PARENTING THROUGH THE HAZE

There May Be a Healthy Dose of Adult Weed Smokers, but How Many of
Them Talk Straight About It With Their Kids?

Marsha Rosenbaum holds a doctorate in medical sociology from UC San
Francisco and has researched drug issues for 20 years. Wherever the
director of the San Francisco office of the Drug Policy Alliance
holds workshops about teens and drugs -- Salt Lake City, Arizona,
even at a national PTA convention in Columbus, Ohio -- at least one
parent sheepishly asks Rosenbaum a version of the same question:

"I smoke pot once in a while. I have a good job, my marriage is
strong and I'm in decent shape. It's never been a problem for me. So
what do I tell my kid if I think they're smoking?"

Or worse, what do I say if they find my stash?

These parents aren't stoners, said Rosenbaum. They're not medicinal
marijuana users or legalization advocates, either. They're lawyers.
Land developers. Teachers. Homeroom mothers. They smoke marijuana
occasionally -- socially, "like a glass of wine" is a common comparison.

Yet privately, these parents are asking for help with a dilemma that
isn't addressed publicly in many places: How do I talk to my kids
about their pot smoking when I still do it -- and don't have any
intention of stopping? They're finding there aren't a lot of places
to go for information, especially for those who don't want to feed
their children a reheated version of the federal government's "Just
Say No" anti-drug campaigns of the 1980s.

Besides, many kids are tuning out the government's zero-tolerance
message. Last year, the Government Accountability Office, the
investigative arm of Congress, found that the federal government's
$1.4 billion anti-drug campaign wasn't working and said the drop in
teenage drug use in recent years could be a result of other factors.

Pot-smoking parents are everywhere in the Bay Area, say Rosenbaum and
marijuana policy advocates. They take their regular turn in the
carpool, and maintain their lawns and serve as lectors at their
church. They're not tough to find. Getting them to talk about it is
another matter.

"But I'd be surprised if any of them would give you their full name,
at least the folks you're looking for," Rosenbaum said. "It is the
third rail of the third rail. You just don't talk about smoking
marijuana, especially if you are high-functioning person."

Indeed, few will publicly give voice to an otherwise silent minority
of pot smokers: high-functioning, high-achieving adults -- many of
them parents -- who still enjoy an occasional puff of the herb.
Actually, nobody knows if they're a minority or a majority -- just
that they're out there, they're silent and they have little desire to
tell the world that, as the pot-legalization rally chant goes, "We
smoke pot and we like it a lot."

Described by anti-drug advocates as "the most drug-experienced
(generation of parents) on record," today's pot-smoking parents grew
up in the stoner haze of the 1970s, blew smoke at Nancy Reagan's
"Just Say No" campaigns and roll their eyes at mentions of the DARE
(Drug Abuse Resistance Education) program. Eleven percent of parents
of children younger than 18 have smoked pot in the last year,
according to a 2006 RoperASW survey for Partnership for a Drug Free
America. Only 51 percent of parents said they'd be upset if their
kids experimented with weed.

But do you tell your kids that?

The debate over how to have what the latest federal anti-drug
campaign calls "these crucial conversations" about pot sounds similar
to the disagreement over how to teach sex education.

On one hand are the absolutists who say abstinence is the only
option. Do not have sex. Period. The other approach preaches
abstinence first, but also teaches children about safe sex.

With pot, the zero-tolerance crowd says that when you talk to your
kids about drugs, abstinence is the only option. Do not smoke pot.
End of story. On the other side, led by activists and educators in
California, is an approach called "Safety First: A Reality-Based
Approach to Teens and Drugs."

They agree abstinence is the first and best option. But after parents
lay out the dangers of drug and alcohol use, they encourage them to
talk to their children about "responsible use." Moderation. Parents
should tell their children that if they're curious, they will help
them find out about the effects of certain drugs and explain how to
recognize irresponsible behavior "when it comes to place, time, dose
levels and frequency of use." The California state PTA has
distributed more than 200,000 copies of the 26-page "Safety First"
booklet since 2002.

"Sometimes saying, 'You cannot do this,' doesn't work with children.
This is a fallback position," said Pat Klotz, vice president for
health for the California PTA. The Anaheim grandmother and registered
nurse acknowledges that some of her more conservative Orange County
neighbors aren't pleased with the approach, "but we think 'Safety
First' is a more realistic approach about drugs."

The federal government doesn't.

"It (Safety First) is quite defeatist," said Bertha Madras, deputy
director for demand reduction at the White House Office of National
Drug Control Policy, the department charged with weaning America off
the pipe. "It says that we can't really get a handle on this issue,
so let's just accept casual use."

Granted, the feds and pot activists have long disagreed on the
scientific evidence on the dangers of marijuana use. And that
disagreement leads to a fundamental one over how to talk to kids about drugs.

Any discussion of "recreational" pot-smoking parents is a nonstarter
for Madras. Her definition of "recreation" doesn't include
mind-altering illegal substances. So don't bother equating the dope
smoker's belief that a hit of pot to relax after work is no different
than a glass of wine.

"A glass of wine does not intoxicate most people. A glass of wine is
a relaxant," said Madras, who is on leave as a professor of
psychiatry at Harvard University. "People, when they smoke marijuana,
they're not just relaxing. They're laughing louder, their appetite is
increased, they are hearing things differently than normal. There's a
whole range of distorted perceptions and distorted behaviors that
come with that."

Parents: the Antidrug, a Web site launched by the White House Office
of National Drug Control Policy, offers this example of how parents
can explain past marijuana use. In this scenario, Chris, the son,
tells his dad that he tried smoking pot:

Dad: "Thanks for being honest with me. But I have to say I'm really
disappointed to hear that. There can be serious consequences when you
use drugs, even marijuana. You're putting yourself in danger and you
could jeopardize your future."

Chris: "Whatever, Dad. That's just way over the top. Besides, you
told me before that you smoked pot in college and you turned out just
fine. So what's the big deal?"

Dad: "I did use it, and now I regret it. Looking back, I can see that
I was lucky that nothing bad happened to me. I've seen plenty of bad
things happen to other people and I don't want that to happen to you.
It's just because I love you. You're much younger than I was when I
tried it. The younger you use, the more damage you could do to your
brain or your body."

But that's past pot use. What's a current pot-smoking parent to do?
Saying "Do as I say, not as I do" is hypocritical, Madras said.

"Children really do see things in black-and-white," Madras said. "A
parent cannot say that 'I am unique, I'm special, I can get away with
it, but you shouldn't.' That doesn't resonate with kids."

Hiding that bag of weed in the closet isn't a good idea, either.
Madras said parents have to get over "their own guilt about their
past or their current use. There is a barrier that they have to break
through." She urged parents to look at their behavior and see what
impact it has on their children.

In many cases, parents aren't saying anything. Fewer than one in
three teens say they learned about drug risks at home, according to
the Roper study.

The "Safety First" approach tries to get teens to tune back into the
conversation by being less absolutist. First, parents should lay out
the dangers of drug and alcohol use. Tell them that they'll be there
to answer any questions and even research the effects of various
drugs. And then, parents should accept that no matter what they warn
their children about, risk-taking is natural to teenagers.

"Teens who do use alcohol, marijuana and/or other drugs must
understand there is a huge difference between use and abuse, and
between occasional and daily use," according to "Safety First."

"If young people continue, despite our admonitions to use alcohol
and/or other drugs, they must control their use by practicing
moderation and limiting use. It is impossible to do well academically
or meet one's responsibilities at work while intoxicated."

There's a thirst for an approach that doesn't end at "Just Say No,"
said "Safety First" author Rosenbaum. And more information may soon
be on the way.

Mitch Earleywine is an associate professor of psychology at the State
University of New York in Albany and a favorite of the pro-marijuana
crowd for his books like, "Understanding Marijuana: A New Look at the
Scientific Evidence." The working title for his next book is, "A
Parents' Guide to Marijuana," and his inspiration came from a very
personal place.

Earleywine is 43 and has been smoking pot since he was 15. Now that
the professor has two young children, there have been some
uncomfortable situations at home. Like when his kids see him sparking
up a vaporizer, a tabletop device that creates a smokeless drag of marijuana.

"When my daughter comes in and sees me vaporizing, well, I can only
tell her it's a night light for so long," Earleywine said.

Yet Earleywine often has trouble finding government funding for his
studies, let alone subjects to participate in them, even just to
answer questions. One of his most recent published reports relied on
respondents answering questions over the Internet.

Many high-achieving, occasional pot smokers are -- no stoner joke
intended -- paranoid about the consequences of coming out. While
studies say that 100 million Americans have tried marijuana and 11
states have some kind of medical cannabis legislation, that has done
little to remove the stigma of pot smoking. Or the fear of having law
enforcement knock on your door if you discuss it publicly.

The Chronicle contacted a couple of pro-marijuana advocacy
organizations to try to find people who fit this profile and were
willing to go on the record. One advocate e-mailed the request to
like-minded souls, but included a disclaimer: "I should say, I don't
know what the legal implications might be for going on record."

"It's almost easier to talk about it if you are a medicinal marijuana
user, because then you have a reason that is seen as more socially
acceptable," said Helen Nunberg, a Santa Cruz physician who sees
hundreds of medical marijuana patients. "I would think people don't
think it's secret, it's just private."

Woe to the person who tries to grab that third rail of the third rail
of even talking about marijuana in a sympathetic way, especially when
it comes to children. Ask Ricardo Cortes.

Two years ago, the New York resident wrote and illustrated a
children's book called "It's Only a Plant: A Children's Story About
Marijuana." Although not a parent himself, Cortes was inspired to
write it by several high-functioning, pot-smoking friends who were
wrestling with this dilemma about how to reconcile their illegal dope
smoking with their parental duties. Publishers wouldn't touch it and
neither would most major chain retailers, so Cortes self-published it.

In it, a young girl named Jackie woke up past her bedtime one night,
opened her parents' bedroom door, and saw them smoking a joint. Her
dad explains that it is a plant.

The next day, the girl's mother takes her to see a farmer -- and pot
grower -- named Farmer Bob. He doesn't smoke marijuana (it makes him
sleepy), but explains that "doctors, teachers, artists, actors, even
mayors and presidents" smoke this "flower."

Then they visit a doctor, who explains that "marijuana is for adults
who can use it responsibly." It "is definitely not for children."
Jackie's mom agrees and said, "Marijuana is for grown-ups. Like
driving a car or drinking a glass of wine. You can make a choice to
try it or not when you are an adult."

Conservative politicians and media types couldn't have asked for a
fluffier pinata to beat on for a few news cycles. It was denounced by
Republican Rep. Mark Souder, R-Ind. who called it a "pro-marijuana
children's book" and read excerpts into the Congressional Record.

Cortes, 33, did the rounds of the chat shows, including Fox's "The
O'Reilly Factor" and took his lumps for its sympathetic portrayal of
the drug (radio hosts would play trippy sitar music as he talked).
But he was trying to make a point that pot smoking parents make only privately.

Sold largely online through Cortes' self-publishing company and as a
kitschy offering at the Urban Outfitters chain, "It's Only a Plant"
has sold 6,000 copies. He's working on translating it into five languages.

"I kind of enjoy all of those conversations," Cortes said. "That's
what it takes to get something changed in this culture. More talk,
talk, talk, talk."