In America, there is an invisible injustice.

Cannabis (marijuana), once illegal, is now a $40 billion industry.

So what happens when something that was once a crime is no longer?

The answer is nothing. People ignore it. People now legally buy it in fancy stores. They enjoy smoking in parks. Or eat gummies of it at dinner talking about the nuances of their highs. But while millions profit and partake legally, more than 40,000 people remain behind bars for cannabis-related offenses. Over 25 million more live with criminal records that prevent them from securing jobs, housing, or a second chance.

The system has moved on—but it hasn’t made things right.

Communities of color bear the brunt of this injustice. Black Americans are five times more likely to be arrested for cannabis than white Americans, fueling an 8-to-1 racial wealth gap and perpetuating cycles of poverty and incarceration.

The Last Prisoner Project (LPP) exists to correct this. Its mission: free those still imprisoned for non-violent cannabis offenses and support those burdened by outdated convictions.

Our goal was simple, but bold: to get one of the only 51 people in America with the power to grant cannabis pardons—the President or a state governor—to sign just one. Even if it affected just one person.

The creative challenge? Pardons are politically unpopular. Even in states where cannabis is legal, “forgiving criminals” is seen as risky. Politicians often avoid the issue entirely, framing it as complex or bureaucratic.

Our strategy was clear: make pardoning cannabis criminals an act of heroism instead of an act of political weakness.

So we made a pen. We named it The Pen to Right History, and printed an unignorable PR narrative right on it—the politician who uses this will be on the right side of history.

Our research showed people have more empathy for the innocent. So we made the pen into a symbol of representing innocent people who are affected by this injustice. We passed the pen to mothers, sons, daughters who wrote personal letters pleading for clemency for their loved ones.

Rather than public shaming, we applied private pressure, bombarding lawmakers with over 20,000 letters to make it impossible to ignore.

Emotional films, social pressure, and national press amplified the story.

It worked.

On June 17, 2024, Maryland Governor Wes Moore claimed the pen and signed the largest cannabis pardon in U.S. state history—175,000 convictions forgiven.

What began as a symbolic object became a national movement. A five-year-old nonprofit inspired real, measurable justice, proving that with the right idea, even the smallest gesture can spark generational change.