In an article for GQ, Taffy Brodesser-Akner writes about spending one Shabbos taking her 68-year-old Hasidic mother to Hempcon for a medical marijuana lollipop. A condensed version of her experience is provided below:
"My mother can't sleep. Night after night, no rest, and it's ruining her. It's maybe post-menopause, maybe just old age...She tried sleeping pills, but they didn't work. She takes Xanax, but its effectiveness has waned, and she's worried that if she starts taking more, it'll work even less. (Also, Xanax can't help you relax if taking Xanax is something that's making you nervous.)
She's decided to try pot, but...how will it look to the gossips and matchmakers in her tiny community when it (definitely) comes up that she knocked on their door one day and asked to borrow a cup of marijuana?
...[My mother] doesn't believe there's a way to participate in pot culture without becoming a pothead. “You can't associate with these people without being one,” she tells me. I tell her she is classist, and she says yes, but not economically so. She is classist for good taste and bad taste. My mother, unlike me, does not mince words. What she means is: There is no slippery slope. There is a cliff.
...The truth is, weed's movement for dignity is often hilariously at odds with weed culture and its pot-leaf couture. My mother takes Xanax, but she never wears a shirt or a hat or a pair of above-the-calf sweatpants with pictures of Xanax on it. The acid-reduction pill I take doesn't have a lifestyle. My birth control pill is far more political than any plant, but there is no strain of female contraceptive called Legion of Bloom.
...Weed is coming out of the closet, and my mother, who has surveyed the field, has seen enough and is going back in."