In the plant cultivation lab at Johnson & Wales University, student Jaelynn Accola tends to her plants like a professional botanist. Clippers in hand, she leans through the zippered door of the tent where her tomato, Swiss chard and catnip plants propagate happily under fluorescent lights. She trims a small wiry tomato limb and carries it to her lab table to examine and dissect it.
This tiny tomato plant will impact Accola’s future, but for now she must pretend it’s cannabis. A double major in cannabis entrepreneurship and culinary nutrition, she’s learning the health benefits of the tomato plant’s relative, cannabis, by studying the leafy greens’ components and discovering how to create healthy food products using the plant’s controversial cousin. Since cannabis is illegal at the federal level, the plants are banned from college campuses, so students in cannabis programs must learn about the mother botanical by experimenting on plants with similar properties, hence the catnip and tomato stand-ins.
Studying the plant’s terpenes, or aromatic compounds, Accola plans to involve her research in creating a new edible cannabis protein ball she’s brainstorming. Meanwhile, she’s building a business around the idea in her capstone class. She plans to pitch her product to investors and launch it after graduating in May.
Pursuing both the botanical and economic approaches is a unique pathway into this budding industry. As of January, the state had garnered $115 million in recreational and medical retail sales since recreational cannabis sales began in December 2022, and the industry is poised for 15 percent annual growth. Cannabis remains federally illegal, however, so its use is heavily restricted, and it’s also acutely stigmatized, so public opposition still lurks in plain sight despite strong approval ratings nationwide.
But as the burgeoning industry gathers steam, opportunity entices like a yellow brick road for Accola and other entrepreneurs, except it’s paved in green.
“Cannabis is just so fun and exciting,” Accola says. “I want to be a cannabis entrepreneur, combining the skills and knowledge of food, nutrition, business and cannabis science from my degrees.”
A Budding Industry
Majoring in cannabis entrepreneurship might be considered a Hail Mary (Jane) as Accola and her twenty-eight classmates are pioneering this new career path.
When the program launched in 2021, “This was the only four-year cannabis program focused on the business of cannabis in the world. There were certificate programs in the cannabis business that existed in Amsterdam. There were a couple of programs
focusing on hemp cultivation, because hemp became legal in 2018,” explains JWU professor and cannabis program co-founder Magnus Thorsson. “Programs like this just didn’t exist.”
It’s catching on, as other programs have since sprouted at universities, including several in New England, he says. But when he first pitched the cannabis program in 2018, he says, “I heard all the jokes like, ‘Yeah, what are you gonna teach them? To a roll a joint?’ I said, ‘No, we’re setting the threshold at above 3.0 GPA.’ And the students that came here were really motivated and interested in talking about cannabis. It wasn’t flippant.”
Accola was one of them. And now, according to Thorsson, she’s slated to become the first graduate with a bachelor’s degree in cannabis entrepreneurship in the world.
“Post-graduation, my peers and I will have the opportunity to bring credibility and knowledge to a plant that is surrounded by stigma. Bringing my formal education to an industry that is so new will make a great impact on the future of the industry,” she says. “Being a part of making it more professional and more credible is exciting.”
Initiating such a groundbreaking academic program at the industry’s birth in Rhode Island was a huge win for Thorsson and program co-founder Michael Budziszek II, the biology program lead and cultivation lab director affectionately known as “Dr. Bud.” He and Thorsson are the de facto cannabis experts on campus. They advocated for the nascent program’s value at the university, which they say will soar alongside industry growth in the United States. They also wrote its unique curriculum, blending their expertise in entrepreneurship and the biological sciences to offer classes in cannabis law, ethics, accounting and finance, hydroponics, chemistry, and soil and disease management, among other topics.
“I used to teach hospitality, where we talk about food, we talk about beverage, and business. Here we have the bio program, so we talk about biology and plant physiology, which is very relevant to cannabis … and we have the culinary program, (which is) the biggest value-added growth area in cannabis. They all dovetail perfectly,” Thorsson says. “Cannabis is a new innovation in its current form. And you get the innovators here, the innovators are saying, ‘Here’s an outlet where I can practice this innovation that I’m passionate about.’”
With their laptops ablaze, students sit in small teams in Thorsson’s capstone class, discussing their business plans and crafting pitching strategies. They have researched businesses similar to their own proposals and how they may fit into and shift the global economy. Throughout the semester, they evaluate marketing and social media tactics, and design their plans to appeal to their target audiences.
Accola and her three partners, senior food and beverage entrepreneurship majors Charlotte Dyne, Jesse Isenhart and Karina Rodriguez, are here, too. They’re refining the language and layout of the proposal they’ll use in their pitch to stakeholders at the university’s annual SharkFest competition this spring.
“As a nutrition major, I wanted to develop something that was not only nutritious but medicinally beneficial with the addition of cannabinoids,” she says of her cannabis protein ball business. “There is a huge knowledge gap with cannabis and nutrition, so much of the business is about educating consumers, and there is nothing on the market like this.”
That motivation is evident in the lab, where Budziszek has a sense of fatherly pride as he points to dozens of healthy catnip plants across the tables that students have grown with clean, organic cultivation techniques. He unzips the fabric door of a grow tent, which is about six feet tall and full of healthy plants.
“They’re using tools of the industry like grow lights, they’re connected to a network and sensors, and they’re getting data from that and making their own inferences. So it’s not just about growing. We do a lot of background data analytics and collecting so they’re quantitating their grow … they use scientific terminology and they’re learning about all the sciences involved in this process,” Budziszek says. “But it’s also the quantum mechanics behind it, the biology, how life evolved. And then in their own tests, they monitor the environment, carbon dioxide gas, temperature, pH in the soil or pH in the hydro system, humidity, all these things that turn genes on and off. So as the students are growing, they’re mindful of epigenetics, and outside environmental factors.”
Despite the focus of the academic program, cannabis is still absent from campus classrooms.
It’s also nonexistent at the University of Rhode Island, which introduced an online undergraduate cannabis studies certificate in fall 2020, followed by an in-person undergraduate minor in cannabis studies in 2022. Students can harvest plants from the College of Pharmacy’s medicinal plant garden and apply those lessons to the pharmacognosy of cannabis courses — which study crude drugs obtained through natural resources, like plant botanicals and medicines — included with their existing academics. But they don’t grow, dissect or experiment on the actual herb.
At the moment, at least, it doesn’t seem to matter. Academics are buffering federal restrictions with instruction revolving around the institution’s inherent strengths. But across these institutions they agree that if cannabis becomes legal at the federal level, they will attempt to bring it to campus for hands-on student cultivation, experimentation and learning.
“One of our separators for URI’s cannabis program is that we’re very strong in therapeutics, medicinal chemistry and pharmacognosy,” explains Navindra P. Seeram, professor and chair of URI’s department of biomedical and pharmaceutical sciences, and co-founder of the cannabis program. “One of the core strengths in the department and in the college has been natural products. We have a world-class medicinal plant garden. So we are building a cannabis program that teaches students focusing on our core strengths that differentiate us from other programs.”
The flexibility of the URI cannabis program appeals to students across academic disciplines, including pharmacy science, psychology, criminal justice, plant science and business, explains Stephanie Forschner-Dancause, associate teaching professor and cannabis program director. There are only four courses, so it’s a manageable workload, but it dives deep into the background of cannabis pharmacology; the endocannabinoid system in the body; pharmacognosy; and the development and chemical analysis of cannabis products. She says another key focal point is ethics and social justice in the field, which is of critical importance for future thought leaders in the state’s fledgling industry.
“We get into the biosynthesis of how the plant makes the different compounds, and what affects that from genetics to growth,” Forschner-Dancause says. “In our therapeutics class, we discuss clinical evidence of cannabis use in different disease states, whether it’s dealing with chemotherapy-induced nausea and vomiting, or chronic pain.”
Nicole Villinski, who is graduating in May with a bachelor’s degree in pharmaceutical science and a minor in cannabis studies, hopes to help break the “grass” ceiling. She’ll pivot her education and internship into a career in pharmaceutical manufacturing, and may even add an online MBA, because she notes the industry is just as much about science as it is business.
“After I took the cannabis therapeutics class, I became more interested in cannabis and realized I wanted to pursue the minor,” Villinski says. “It was the most applicable to what I was learning already in pharmacology, about different drugs and their mechanism of action. So it went hand in hand. And I honestly had no clue that cannabis had that many therapeutic uses.”
Marijuana Misconceptions
Villinski isn’t the only one who corrected her own misunderstandings about cannabis after learning more about it. The plant, and its many applications, has been rife with stigma and eras of conflicting legislation during the past century. Since Congress passed the Marijuana Tax Act in 1937 and Ronald Reagan’s War on Drugs heightened awareness in the 1980s (see more in sidebar on opposite page), this controversy has been a key factor in the black-market industry that churned underground.
“We have to recognize that we’re in contemporary times, and cannabis is not this dangerous drug that was once fear-mongered back in the seventies and eighties,” says Rep. David Morales (District 7, Providence) who co-sponsored the legislation to legalize recreational cannabis in Rhode Island. “There’s more to cannabis than … this idea that we see on television or movies depicting buddies, passing a joint around, getting high and laughing.”
He adds that since the cannabis market is a growing economy and source of revenue statewide and regionally, and with its medicinal benefits, “it is important that we have young adults in our state who want to pursue a career in that industry, that we equip them with the knowledge to be successful. … It makes a difference that this education is being provided because it’s niche, it’s direct and specific.”
Far from the burnout stereotype, academics advocate that cannabis provides a scientific-based education for students that is earning credibility while combating generations of stigmas surrounding its use. JWU’s Thorsson agrees that it’s crucial to have serious discussions about the history of drugs, their stigmas and their potentially negative repercussions.
“We go through the data on Schedule 1 drugs in the first couple of weeks in class, and talk about the deleterious impacts of cannabis consumption,” Thorsson says. “We also talk about equity and indiscriminate decriminalization.”
JWU’s Budziszek agrees this targets many students, even faculty and staff, though it’s a difficult balance of what they can and cannot say.
“It’s tough for me to speak legalese when I can’t promote the M word, marijuana, but I can talk about cannabis and hemp. But marijuana is cannabis, right? So I have to juggle all those as I’m talking. I always say, ‘marijuana is illegal, but it’s all cannabis.’ So I help my students speak that language,” Budziszek says. “It’s good social justice, social equity. It’s good therapy for me and a lot of people. That’s the biggest thing right now in our economy. It’s a multibillion-dollar industry and growing in academia as well. As a professor, we can help. We can make it healthy, credible, and it’s something that we’ll get to normalize.”
Students are interested and passionate, and want to dispel stigma to educate the public, says URI’s Forschner-Dancause. When people say, “You can smoke cannabis and drive,” or “You can’t get addicted,” she and students are quick to correct them.
“We say, ‘No, you can’t smoke cannabis and drive. And this is why, because it binds to the area of your brain that affects your coordination, your vision.’ We say, ‘Yes you can get addicted. And here’s why. Here’s how it happens,’” she says.
Villinski says that learning the history of cannabis, its misconceptions, and decades of restrictions was what really opened her eyes to the vast potential of this plant. She even explained a drug she recently learned about, called Epidiolex, which is used for treatment of seizure disorder. It comes from purified CBD and is the only FDA-approved drug that’s purified from the cannabis plant.
“But cannabis is still a Schedule 1 drug, which means it has no therapeutic uses. But there are actually a lot of therapeutic uses. And I feel like if restrictions on research were loosened a little bit it could help find further therapeutic uses and also solidify existing findings to do more with them,” Villinski says. “That was something that I thought was cool. But all the limitations around trying to do research today make it difficult.”
Statewide Synergy
The aftermath of a cannabis education reaches local businesses, too, as farms, dispensaries and other entrepreneurs chart their position in the marketplace and rely on new graduates to do so.
Joe Pakuris, owner of Mother Earth Wellness, opened the Pawtucket dispensary in November 2022. Though he doesn’t work directly with JWU or URI, because internships for class credit are federally prohibited, he collaborated with Thorsson in framing some of the university’s cannabis courses, and hired Accola as assistant kitchen director.
“I never went to college. That’s why I’m always asking her questions about how things work,” he says. “If [this program] was available when I was younger, yes, absolutely, I would have done it. I think it’s a great thing. It’s a huge industry that we’re just at the tip of. People are going to be more accustomed and accepting of it and I think these programs are instrumental. This is a whole new industry that we need educated and skilled people to work in.”
Mike Simpson, co-owner of Lovewell Farms in Hope Valley and adjunct professor of history at JWU, has been involved in cannabis policy for two decades, beginning in 2004 with the Marijuana Policy Project to update Maine’s medical marijuana law. More recently, he served as deputy director of Regulate Rhode Island, which lobbied for adult-use cannabis regulation at the state level. Beginning in 2016, he was also a caregiver as part of the Rhode Island medical marijuana program and witnessed firsthand the positive relief that cannabis products had on a patient with Crohn’s disease. So, he and three friends co-founded Lovewell Farms to grow cannabis plants and create healing products from them.
He stresses that an education in this topic is critical for future business development and an informed population. Even at farmers markets, people come to him repeatedly with questions about cannabis and CBD, and how it will affect them.
But he also thinks it’s misleading to teach university-level cannabis courses without students cultivating the actual plant, so he has offered to bring students to his farm to teach them how.
“It’s cool to get a plant nerd here rather than a chemist nerd, because then they come here and get in the field and they see stuff here that they’re learning in class. … and that helps create knowledge, to destigmatize,” Simpson says. “I do think the scientific
approach is important, but I think that’s a different degree. You’re not going to be a successful entrepreneur in cannabis if you don’t know how to operate with the plant, if you don’t know what kind of diseases affect that plant, and how to address that.”
Though the efficacy of educational programs doesn’t fall under the state’s newly formed Cannabis Control Commission, chair Kim Ahern says the underlying issues of safety, transparency and equity do. These are goals she would like to accomplish as the state entity responsible for the regulation, licensing and enforcement of adult recreational and medical cannabis use. And while defining that can mean many things, she says knowledge can actually solve three pillars of her approach.
“It’s still an illegal substance federally, and that comes on decades of laws that have been ingrained in our thinking. And so I think, as we transition into adult use being fully legal, we’re getting into a sea change of laws. These academic programs in particular help bridge that gap of knowledge,” she says. “Programs like at URI and Johnson & Wales are going to be really helpful for that, really helping bridge that divide, help highlight different aspects of the business, whether we’re talking about growing or testing or how to do that from a social entrepreneurship and social equity place.”
Despite being in the weeds while the state’s industry sorts itself out, the positive domino effect of education is clear. Accola and Villinski remain committed to their future and are learning all they can while the opportunity is in front of them.
“When I sit with my peers and talk about what we want to do after graduation, a lot of them want to build on-site consumption centers, own dispensaries or become cultivators,” Accola says. “It’s a plant found in nature that protects itself through psychoactive features. But there’s so much fear around it. So my goal is to educate as best I can, and reduce the stigma in a fun and tasty way through food.”
Cannabis Conundrum
Cannabis is one of the most widely grown plants, and the most consumed illicit drug, in the world. It was discovered in Central Asia as far back as 12,000 years ago, and was used for making rope, clothing and paper, as well as military gear during World War II in the form of hemp. It later became known for its psychoactive chemicals THC (tetrahydrocannabinol), which induces mind-altering feelings of euphoria, and CBD (cannabidiol). It was THC’s properties that fostered the plant’s widespread cultivation for human consumption.
It’s commonly known as marijuana, pot, hemp, weed, ganja and countless other nicknames, but according to the National Institutes of Health, they’re not exactly the same thing. Cannabis refers to all products from the Cannabis sativa, Cannabis indica and Cannabis ruderalis plants, while only marijuana has substantial amounts of THC. Industrial hemp products, meanwhile, are those that include low amounts of THC.
It was legal in the United States until 1937, when Congress passed the Marijuana Tax Act and criminalized the use of marijuana. Federal laws in the 1950s set mandatory penalties for drug-related offenses, and eleven states decriminalized marijuana in the 1970s. President Ronald Reagan’s War on Drugs campaign in the eighties reinstated penalties, including a “three strikes and you’re out” policy. But 1996 brought the authorized sale of medical marijuana in California for use in patients with AIDS, cancer and other serious diseases, which prompted tensions between state and federal regulations that persist in the twenty-first century.