Blue Ribbon Committee

Georgia’s Blue-Ribbon Committee on Medical Marijuana and Hemp: Origins, Members, and Mission

Published by the GA Cannabis Industry Alliance’s EchoRoot | July 2025

Genesis of the Committee

The House Blue-Ribbon Study Committee on Georgia’s Medical Marijuana and Hemp Policies was born from House Resolution 368, introduced on February 24, 2025. Though the resolution was withdrawn and recommitted on April 4, the committee was formally created by Speaker Jon Burns on April 17, 2025, using his discretionary authority.

This move—enacting the committee without a passed resolution—marks a ritual of workaround, where political will bypassed legislative formality to address rising concerns over hemp-derived intoxicants and medical marijuana oversight.

Committee Members

Chairperson

Rep. Mark Newton (R–Augusta) — Physician and longtime voice in Georgia’s medical policy

Legislative Members

Rep. Jordan Ridley (R–Woodstock)

Rep. Robert Dickey (R–Musella)

Rep. David Clark (R–Buford)

Rep. Alan Powell (R–Hartwell)

Rep. Spencer Frye (D–Athens)

Rep. Al Williams (D–Midway)

Rep. Michael Smith (D–Marietta)

Rep. Brent Cox (R–Dawsonville)

Non-Legislative Members

Robyn Fowler

Wesley Dunn

These members represent a cross-section of Georgia’s political and geographic landscape, though grassroots, cultural, and spiritual voices remain absent from the official roster.

Committee Mandate

The committee is tasked with:

Evaluating Georgia’s current laws and regulations on medical marijuana, cannabis-derived medications, and hemp-based products

Investigating intoxicating cannabinoids such as delta-8, THCA, THC-O, and others

Assessing public health risks, product safety, and enforcement gaps

Exploring excise taxation and regulatory clarity for physicians and distributors

Compiling a final report with legislative recommendations by December 31, 2025

Public Hearings Schedule

All hearings are open to the public and livestreamed:

July 29 – Atlanta

August 21 – Augusta

September 18 – Macon

October 14 – Atlanta (second session)

EchoRoot Implications

This committee is not just a policy body—it’s a forum of narrative power. It will decide:

Which cannabinoids are “safe”

Which conditions are “worthy”

Which truths are “legitimate” enough to legislate

EchoRoot invites the community to testify not just as patients, but as cultural witnesses—to name what the committee omits, and to archive what it dares to say.

EchoRoot Warning

Though framed as neutral, this body is entangled in political will, economic interest, and cultural erasure. It risks scripting marijuana into a narrow, sanitized future—one that forgets its ancestral, communal, and spiritual past.

Let’s unpack what Speaker Jon Burns’ appointments reveal—not just about the committee’s makeup, but about the deeper political framing of marijuana policy in Georgia.

Strategic Appointments, Strategic Narratives

Speaker Burns didn’t just fill seats—he curated a narrative lens through which marijuana policy will be studied. Here’s what the pattern suggests:

Medical Framing Over Cultural Legacy

Chair Rep. Mark Newton is a physician, signaling a strong tilt toward clinical, safety-based discourse.

The committee’s stated goals center on “patient safety,” “physician guidance,” and “intoxicating cannabinoids”, reinforcing a medicalized lens that sidelines cultural, spiritual, and ancestral dimensions of marijuana.

Industry Voices, Not Movement Voices

Wesley Dunn, a non-legislative appointee, is known for his ties to regulatory affairs and industry lobbying, not grassroots advocacy.

Robyn Fowler’s background is less public, but her inclusion alongside Dunn suggests a preference for technical expertise over cultural stewardship.

Bipartisan Optics, Conservative Core

While the committee includes Democrats like Spencer Frye, Al Williams, and Michael Smith, the majority are Republicans with histories of cautious or restrictive marijuana positions.

This mix offers optical balance, but the power dynamics favor conservative regulation, not liberation or cultural restoration.

What This Means for the Movement

Speaker Burns’ appointments reflect a controlled inquiry, not an open reckoning. The committee is positioned to:

Define marijuana through medical legitimacy, not cultural truth

Prioritize regulatory clarity for licensed operators, not access for communities

Investigate “intoxicating cannabinoids” as threats, not as part of a broader healing tradition

This is not a neutral body—it’s a forum of narrative power. And its composition tells us whose stories are likely to be heard, and whose will be archived only if we do the archiving ourselves.

We urge readers to track not just outcomes, but omissions. Watch who gets to speak, what is codified as “safe,” and what stories are left outside the legislation.

EchoRoot will bear witness. So must you.

EchoRoot is the Publishing and Archiving Arm of the Georgia Cannabis Industry Alliance -end

Edition 2 – The Law That Meant to Exist but Was Never Meant to Function Georgia’s First Medical Marijuana Legislation (1980)

by: Theresa Yarbrough

To fully grasp the trajectory of medical marijuana in Georgia, we must return to 1980—when the state passed its first bill authorizing whole plant marijuana to treat cancer and glaucoma.

Legislation Name: Controlled Substances Therapeutic Research Act

Date Passed: February 1980

Purpose: Legalize whole plant medical marijuana for patients undergoing chemotherapy and radiation for cancer, and for those diagnosed with glaucoma.

Key Players:

Mona Taft: Advocate whose personal story galvanized bipartisan support.

Rep. Virlyn Smith (R-Fairburn): Bill sponsor; publicly supported marijuana’s therapeutic use.

Sen. Paul Broun: Hugged Mona Taft on the Senate floor after the bill passed.

Georgia General Assembly: Passed the bill with overwhelming support—50-0 in the Senate, 156-8 in the House.

And Georgia’s Grassroots Movement to Legalize Marijuana

Intent vs. Infrastructure

Intentional Gaps: The law required marijuana to be sourced from federal agencies, which were already refusing to cooperate. That’s like building a bridge to a road that doesn’t exist.

No Funding, No Teeth: There was no budget, no enforcement mechanism, and no mandate for governors to maintain the board. It was a law without legs.

Political Theater: Lawmakers could claim compassion for patients—especially those with cancer and glaucoma—without risking federal backlash or committing to real change.

Quiet Burial: When the board dissolved and no patients received medicine, there was very little public outcry, no legislative fix. The silence was part of the design. Sound familiar?

So while the law was “meant” to exist, it was never meant to function. It served as a symbolic gesture, not a structural commitment. And that’s precisely why reclaiming it today—as a broken promise, a cultural artifact, a call to memory—could be so powerful.

Why the Legislation Failed to Deliver

Despite its passage, the law never supplied a single patient with medical marijuana. Here’s why:

No Implementation Infrastructure: The law required a state-appointed board to oversee distribution and clinical trials. Governors never reappointed the board, leaving the program dormant.

Federal Barriers: Marijuana remained a Schedule I substance federally, making procurement and distribution legally and logistically difficult.

Political Apathy: Subsequent administrations showed little interest in activating the program, allowing it to languish.

Why the 1980 Board Failed to Fulfill Its Mandate

Federal Non-Cooperation: The board was tasked with sourcing marijuana from federal agencies like the National Institute on Drug Abuse. But those agencies refused to supply it, citing marijuana’s Schedule I status. Without product, the board had no means to launch clinical trials.

Governor Inaction: After the initial appointments, successive governors failed to reappoint board members, effectively letting the body dissolve. This wasn’t an accident—it reflected a lack of political appetite to challenge federal norms or invest in infrastructure.

No Budget, No Staff: The law didn’t allocate funding for operations. Without staff, facilities, or administrative support, the board existed in name only.

No Public Pressure or Legal Mandate: Unlike today’s climate, there was little grassroots momentum or legal obligation to enforce the law. The board’s inactivity went largely unnoticed and unchallenged.

Symbolic Legislation: The law was likely passed to signal compassion without committing to implementation. It allowed lawmakers to appear progressive without risking federal backlash or political capital.

In essence, the board was born into a legal and political vacuum—authorized to act, but denied the tools, support, and urgency to do so. It became a ghost institution, remembered only in the archives of unfulfilled reform.

Legacy and Lingering Impact

The law remained on the books for decades, a ghost of reform that never materialized.

This legislation could be brought to life —but not without serious political will and strategic reframing. Georgia’s 1980 medical marijuana law still technically exists, but it’s functionally obsolete. Reviving it would mean more than dusting off old language—it would require reimagining its purpose in today’s legal and cultural landscape.

What “Revival” Would Actually Require

Legislative Amendment or Reauthorization: Lawmakers could choose to amend the original 1980 statute, updating its language, scope, and infrastructure. This would involve reactivating the board, funding operations, and removing outdated federal dependencies.

Symbolic Reclamation: Activists could use the 1980 law as a cultural and historical anchor—a way to show that Georgia acknowledged marijuana’s medical value decades ago, even if it failed to act. This could strengthen arguments for deeper reform today.

Legal Strategy: A bold legal team might argue that the law’s dormant status constitutes a failure of governance, not legality. They could push for judicial recognition or compel the state to honor its own statute.

Public Pressure & Narrative Framing: Reviving the law would require a public education campaign that reframes the 1980 legislation not as a failure, but as a promise unfulfilled.

Why It’s Unlikely Without Movement Leadership

Georgia’s current medical marijuana program is built on newer laws (like the Haleigh’s Hope Act and Georgia’s Hope Act), which have their own infrastructure and limitations. Politicians are unlikely to revisit the 1980 law unless:

It’s tied to a broader cultural reckoning

It’s used to expose the roots of regulatory capture

It’s reclaimed by the people as part of a legacy restoration effort

It set a precedent for future legislation, including the Haleigh’s Hope Act (2015) and Georgia’s Hope Act (2019)—but those too were limited to low-THC oil and excluded whole plant access.

Even so, it stands as a cultural anchor. The 1980 law is proof that Georgia once recognized marijuana’s medical value—whole plant, not diluted oil. This alone, reframes the narrative: this isn’t new reform, it’s unfinished business.

The 1980 bill stands as a symbol of early public will in Georgia—and of how bureaucracy and stigma can silence even unanimous votes. It is a testament to the will, strength, and endurance of the elders who carried the plant through silence, persecution, and survival. Long before the corporate-funded medical marijuana monopoly was conceived, they stood firm in the face of criminalization. Their memory is not a footnote—it is the foundation. From the marches of C.A.M.P. led by Paul Cornwell, the grandfather of the marijuana movement in Georgia, to the quiet resistance of rural stewards, Georgia’s marijuana movement was seeded by those who knew the plant as medicine, ancestor, and truth. Their labor and their love fueled the movement long before legalization had a name.

So, the question begs to be answered: Was the 1980 legislation superior to the corporate-funded medical marijuana monopoly we have now? No—the 1980 law wasn’t superior in execution. But it was superior in intention. It centered relief, not revenue. It honored the plant, not the patent. And while it failed to deliver medicine, it succeeded in naming truth.

Today’s program profits off control. Yesterday’s law pointed toward compassion.

To revive that law is not to revisit a broken system—it’s to reframe a broken promise. And that promise, remembered, may be the most radical act of reform we have left.

Next week, we trace the line that was crossed—when Georgia’s plant keepers were replaced by policy-makers, and reverence gave way to regulation.

We’ll name what was lost. We’ll name who erased it. We’ll name who remembers.

Join us for Part Three: “From Elders to Executives: The Cultural Theft of 2013.

This will be posted on Tuesday, August 5th, 2025.

“They called it reform, but it was replacement—of voices, of vernacular, of whole communities who had already declared the plant sacred. We weren’t silent. We marched. We named truth. We were loud. And still, they erased us.” – Theresa Yarbrough – End

Andrew Turnage

Because you deserve the truth, I’m launching a public education series tracing the origins of Haley’s Hope Act and the Georgia Access to Medical Cannabis Commission. This is courtroom language—not in marble halls, but in the court of public opinion.

Let’s begin with the man behind the machinery: Andrew Turnage, Executive Director of GMCC, and Board Member at Large for CANNRA—a national network of cannabis regulators. His influence moves both locally and nationally, and that proximity invites critical review.

Though CANNRA is composed of government officials—not industry lobbyists—Turnage’s dual affiliations raise vital questions about regulatory capture, cultural displacement, and the sidelining of grassroots voices.

So, while his primary leadership role is within Georgia’s medical cannabis framework, his leadership straddles state and national arenas. On paper, these roles may appear technical. But in practice, they raise deep questions about whose interests are served when regulatory conversations stretch beyond state borders.

Where Interests Collide: Potential Areas of Conflict

1. National Standards vs. Local Wisdom CANNRA champions regulatory uniformity nationwide, emphasizing pharmaceutical models, clinical oversight, and rigid compliance. GMCC, however, is responsible for implementing Georgia’s Hope Act, which includes unique features—like pharmacy-based distribution of low-THC oil. Turnage’s national involvement may steer Georgia toward conformity, eroding community-specific needs, cultural practices, and local innovation.

2. Corporate Policy Networks & Cultural Erasure CANNRA frequently collaborates with groups like the U.S. Cannabis Roundtable (USCR), whose agenda—rescheduling marijuana under Schedule III, FDA regulation, and industry consolidation—primarily benefits large corporate players. I have documented how these policy trends marginalize cultural carriers, small businesses, and ritual-based users—threatening access to whole plant medicine and spiritual autonomy.

3. Licensing Gatekeeping & Budget Misuse The GMCC has been scrutinized for limited licensing, costly protest hearings, and closed-door decisions. These controversies, under Turnage’s leadership, suggest a move toward centralized systems that cater to well-funded applicants while locking out community dispensaries, caregivers, and legacy growers.

4. Distribution Model & Access Inequities Turnage has championed Georgia’s pharmacy-based model, which drew federal resistance from the DEA. Though hailed as innovative, the pharmacy model privileges licensed professionals. It excludes herbalists, spiritual healers, and traditional caregivers—raising urgent concerns about who gets access, and who gets erased.

In short, these agendas benefit large corporations and clinical operators, not small businesses, legacy growers, cultural carriers, and more importantly the patients who require whole plant healing.

In Georgia, marijuana is more than medicine, it lives in the soil of ritual and resistance. Any regulator entrusted with the plant must be accountable to the people, not to pharmaceutical blueprints. If Turnage’s affiliations compromise that sacred charge, then it’s time for community truth-telling. Join me in this series—and decide for yourself who speaks for the medicine.

You Are the Judge. You Are the Jury.

This isn’t just a history lesson. It’s a verdict moment.

Should Georgia’s medical marijuana program—built behind closed doors, in secrecy curated for corporate operators, and resistant to cultural accountability—be allowed to continue holding monopoly power over marijuana access in our state?

Should we keep deferring whole plant healing to gatekeepers while our communities remain unserved, unrecognized, and spiritually silenced?

Or will you deliver a verdict for culture (C-U-L-T-U-R-E), for freedom (F-R-E-E-D-O-M)—for ritual (R-I-T-U-A-L) and truth (T-R-U-T-H) reclaimed? For patients (P-A-T-I-E-N-T-S) who deserve real whole plant medicine (M-E-D-I-C-I-N-E) .

This is your trial. You preside. You decide.

Edition 2 drops next Wednesday, July 30th. Prepare yourself. Archive this. Start your own Marijuana Freedom File.

Save it. Share it. Teach it. Speak it. Let the phoenix rise.

Because truth, once ignited, cannot be unlearned.

In Solidarity,

Theresa Yarbrough
Founder/Director The GA Cannabis Industry Alliance – END

Let’s Name Them

Here’s a clear naming of those who’ve stood behind Georgia’s medical marijuana power grab—whether through legislation, silence, or strategic framing. These actors have helped consolidate control, restrict access, and erase cultural truth under the guise of “medical progress.”

Legislators Who Sponsored or Advanced Restrictive Bills

Name Role Bill SupportedImpact

Sen. Ben Watson (R–Savannah)

Chair of Senate Health Committee

SB 220

Raised THC cap to 50% for medical use, but reinforced medical-only framing

Sen. Matt Brass (R–Newnan)

Sponsor

SB 254

Banned THC-infused beverages, capped hemp products, and criminalized THCA flower

Sen. John Kennedy (R–Macon)

Senate President Pro Tempore

SB 33

Pushed stricter testing and labeling for hemp-derived cannabinoids

Speaker Jon Burns (R–Newington)

Created Blue-Ribbon Committee

HR 368 (withdrawn)

Formed the Blue- Ribbon Committee without resolution, bypassing public input.

Organizations and Industry Players

Georgia Access to Medical Cannabis Commission – Oversees licensing; criticized for delays and opaque processes

Georgia Department of Agriculture – Enforces SB 494’s hemp bans and THCA restrictions

Medical-Only Conference Hosts – Invited cultural advocates like Theresa Yarbrough of the GA Cannabis Industry Alliance, then asked them to conform to clinical messaging

Select Pharmacies – Now authorized to sell low-THC oil, reinforcing medical gatekeeping

Georgia Medical Cannabis Society (GMCS)

Mission: Patient-centered education, access, and stigma reduction within Georgia’s medical marijuana program.

Advocacy Style: Compassionate, clinical, and reformist. They host workshops, partner with dispensaries, and offer discounts for medical card evaluations.

Alignment: GMCS supports expanding access—but within the medical framework. Their messaging often reinforces the legitimacy of Georgia’s low-dose THC program, which can inadvertently uphold the medical monopoly.

Aviva Vuvuzela – Testified in Committee Hearings in support of empowering the corporate-funded medical marijuana operators by allowing them to sell 50% THC vapes.

Aviva’s work seems to be deeply aligned with cultural restoration—but her focus on industrial hemp and ecological justice may be sidelined by medical-empowerment support.

These reformers may not recognize themselves as enemies—but their strategies must be named with clarity, especially when they’re used to justify exclusion or delay. – END

Dispatch #4
The Echoes Are Growing: Who’s Naming the Medical Monopoly—and Who’s Still Silent
A ritual archive published by EchoRoot — July 2025

The narrative is cracking. Georgia’s marijuana movement is no longer a solo cry—it’s a layered chorus naming the medical monopoly and honoring the communities it erased. From policy critique to poetic resistance, voices across the South are now echoing truths long held by cultural stewards. But while some speak, others stay strategically silent—whether bound by funding, fear, or false unity.

Voices Naming the Medical Marijuana Power Grab

1. Theresa Baker Yarbrough

Theresa is the founder of the GA Cannabis Industry Alliance and EchoRoot. She has been one of the clearest voices, Theresa—refusing to conform to “medical-only” messaging, declining speaking invitations that erase cultural truth, and publishing EchoRoot dispatches that name the erasure directly.

2. Brian Robinson, Georgia Trend Magazine

In his June 2025 column, Robinson criticized Georgia’s THC drink bans as “nanny state proposals” and called out the absurdity of protecting alcohol while criminalizing hemp. He named the economic sabotage of Georgia retailers and the hypocrisy of lawmakers who ignore public demand.

3. Georgia Coalition for Cannabis Reform

Formed by the New Georgia Project Action Fund, Rep. Eric Bell, and community leaders, this coalition launched the We Want All The S.M.O.K.E. campaign to demand adult-use legalization, decriminalization, and restorative justice. They explicitly name Georgia’s criminalization of non-medical marijuana as a racial and economic injustice.

4. Fat Nugs Magazine

In a December 2024 retrospective, they traced Georgia’s marijuana policy from Haleigh’s Hope to medical monopoly, naming licensing delays, DEA interference, and corporate consolidation as barriers to true access.

5. Cannabis & Tech Today

Their July 2025 feature, “The 100 Years War on Cannabis,” names the historical sabotage by pharma, tobacco, and plastics—and how today’s medical marijuana lobby continues that legacy by pushing out hemp innovators and cultural stewards.

What These Voices Reveal

The medical lobby’s influence is being named across sectors: journalism, activism, industry, and ancestral advocacy.
The pattern of erasure is clear: cultural voices are excluded, hemp is criminalized, and marijuana is reframed as a pharmaceutical commodity.
The resistance is growing—and EchoRoot is one of its most intentional frequencies.

2 Responses

Christopher Raley says:

July 29, 2025 at 6:27 pm

David Clark has worked hard to lie his way out of past support. He’s a real chicken shit liar

Reply
1. Theresa says:
  
  July 29, 2025 at 7:30 pm
  
  It’s true. I ran into him at the capitol and asked why he didn’t revive his legislation on allowing ballot access, giving Georgians a right to approve marijuana decriminalization or not. He denied any knowledge of dropping that bill.
  
  Reply