Bentley Hatchett Shares His Reentry Journey After Serving Time For Cannabis

Mikelina Belaineh • May 23, 2023

Bentley joined LPP's Director of Impact, Mikelina Belaineh, via Zoom for an hour-long interview. Bentley shared about how he became incarcerated for cannabis and the impact it has had on his life. The content of this article is informed by Bentley’s words, but they are not verbatim. Parts of this interview have been edited for length and clarity, and have been reviewed and approved by Bentley.


Tell me your story of cannabis criminalization, how did you get to be here with me today doing this interview? 


I grew up in Austin, Texas. When I was about to go into kindergarten my mother started talking about wanting to go back to college to finish up her degree. My dad had an old-school mindset that the wife should stay at home, and he said he wouldn’t allow it. My mother wouldn’t stand for that, so my parents ended up getting divorced in 1978. My dad made it very difficult for my mom financially, and she ended up only with the bare minimum of what she needed to take care of us. She provided for us, but there was never enough to fully address our family’s needs. My father’s absence took a real toll on me, he became just a voice on the other side of the phone. It was harsh, all I really wanted was my dad there, and then I’m watching my mother struggle trying to take care of us on her own. Pretty early on, I started finding ways to help. I couldn’t stand to be a burden to my mother. 


 Eventually, my older brother started running with people that were selling cannabis and other drugs. I got looped in and started helping my brother with the business. By 15, I was making insane money, especially for a teenager. This is back in the late eighties. It felt great to be able to contribute to the family. I've never done what I've done to be the man, I only sold cannabis to help my family. Come 1989, my brother encountered some trouble, and he ended up getting busted and sentenced to 14 years. That was my first taste of what incarceration does to a family. My mother and I were devastated, it's still painful for me to remember. For the first 2 weeks after he got sentenced, I don't think my mother, or I left our beds. Both of my male role models had been ripped from my life. I fell into a darkness, struggling mentally and emotionally. I started doing cocaine and other hard drugs, I was in bad shape. It got to the point where my friends had to intervene to get me cut off. I was still going to school, functioning, but just barely.


Fast forward, I go to my first Grateful Dead show and get introduced to psychedelics. Psychedelics and cannabis combined ended up having a very profound effect on my life. Once introduced, I was able to use LSD, mushrooms, and cannabis to facilitate deep introspection and healing. I came to understand how I had been using hard drugs to avoid and escape my emotional pain. Psychedelics reframed my afflictions and gave me space to open up and dive into my experience. As a junior in college, I decided to leave school, move out to California, and join the emerging Psychedelics movement. My goal was always to be a part of serving the greater good. 


In the late nineties, it was still in the early stages of cannabis in California. The weed wasn’t great, so a lot of people were getting their product from Canada. Me and my friends figured we could probably grow some great weed outdoors in California. The first time I got arrested, I got in trouble because of my ties to the psychedelic community. I was charged because my name had been thrown around. I had introduced one person to another person, I didn’t sell anything, and I didn’t get paid for anything. 


 The DEA lied to the prosecutor about my involvement in the case, and the government withheld evidence that would expose the truth. The judge gave the prosecution one week to get all of the missing discovery to my lawyer. Of course by the evening before the 7th day, when we were supposed to return to court, they still had not complied with the Judge's orders. The prosecutor calls my lawyer that night and says that if took a plea deal she would drop my conspiracy charge (which held a sentence of 6-9 years) to a misprision of a felony charge which would end up having me 1 year incarcerated and 1-year paper. So of course I took the deal, even though the underlying charge was based on lies and government misconduct. 


So, I served my time, and when I got out. I was like, okay. I'm never going to do anything that's going to lead me back to prison. Once I got off paper, I moved back out to California and started doing the medical thing there. There weren’t many people in the medical game at the time, and I had a lot of experience under my belt—things were going well for me. A childhood friend of mine was living in New York and asked me and my partners to source cannabis for them. I was naïve and agreed to work with them in a limited capacity, thinking I could avoid being implicated if things went wrong. Eventually, my friend ended up getting in trouble for grow houses he had in Texas. One thing leads to another, and people start getting arrested and giving names. Next thing I know there’s a warrant for my arrest. I was looking at a 10-year sentence, and I wasn’t willing to tell on someone else to get out of punishment—so I went on the run. I sent my family away, got them set up, and then disappeared into the woodwork. I was on the run for 8 years total. 


I was hopping from Airbnb to Airbnb, staying with friends, when unbeknownst to me, someone had called the U.S. Marshalls and alerted them to my moves. I had no idea that I was being tracked. One evening, I was in the lobby of my hotel and this guy comes up to me and say, “Is your name Bentley Hatchett?” I say no it’s not; I had no idea who this guy was, he didn’t identify himself as an officer. He throws me up against the wall and grabs my passport out of my back pocket. He ends up arresting me for narcotics trafficking out of New York City. I told him I had never sold narcotics, but it didn’t matter.


I was incarcerated pre-trial, without bond because they deemed me a flight risk. They bounced me around to a few different facilities until I got sent to MCC Manhattan, where I stayed. It was terrible, basically a glorified county jail. Soon after my arrival, in April of 2020, we went into Covid lockdown. Everything was shut down and the entire system was frozen. Conditions went from bad, to unimaginable. Rats were running amuck, toilets on multiple levels were overflowing, and staff and guards weren’t showing up to work. For 18 months I didn’t see the sun or feel fresh air on my face and was left to languish in a facility not fit to sustain human life. 


 I was lucky to have a good lawyer. He believed in the merits of my case and hustled to work the system on my behalf. The prosecutor told him that the DA’s office doesn’t really care about weed anymore, they’ve got f*nt*nyl, human trafficking, and issues of violence on their plate-- weed was not on his mind at this point. Plus, the original prosecutor and judge for my case were gone by this point (it had been 8 years). The Prosecutor said if I did a self-proffer, then he would go easy on me. Everyone in the original conspiracy had already done their time and were off supervised release. So, I sat down with him and explained my involvement. All I did was vet and round up Californian herbs for the program, I was never part of the shipping or movement of product in the NYC market. I was able to get the prosecutor to understand that I was only involved in 470 kg, versus the 1850 kg the government was trying to hold me accountable for. 


The judge presiding over my case was overseeing cases of other people in my unit and became aware of how bad the conditions in the MCC facility were. God bless her, she went through the sentencing guidelines and found a way to reduce each of our sentences based on the amount of time we had been locked down. I got 16 months taken off my sentence. They ended up shutting down MCC Manhattan and moved most of us to MDC Brooklyn. 


What has life after incarceration been like for you and your family? 


Reentry's been hard. You can't get just walk into any place and get a job as a convicted felon, even if it's non-violent. But I've been very lucky to have people helping to prop me back up, friends giving me opportunities to work. I do have opportunities in the legal cannabis space, but I can't accept them. The judge said I can’t be a part of the cannabis industry whether it's legal or not, because I was convicted in a Federal court. I’m on paper for 3 years, if I violate the conditions of my supervised release, I go back to prison. So, I do what I must to get by. All I can do is keep moving forward, how things unfold is dependent on my mindset. The whole experience was so destructive to my family. I missed out on so much with my kids. I wasn't there for the soccer games, and taking them to school, just doing the day-to-day stuff that children need. It's a damn shame that my kids couldn’t grow up with their father. I do my best to be a great father to my 5 kids now, to take steps to make amends and heal, but it’ll take time. It’s really frustrating to not be allowed to participate in the industry, but I feel so blessed to be free, no longer looking over my shoulder out of fear. 


There are so many people that are incarcerated right now for nonviolent drug offenses and don't need to be. Under different circumstances, they could have been CEOs, people of stature, and status in our community. I was sitting in the cell watching New York legalize and thought “The only difference between me and these ‘businessmen’ is that I was a little bit ahead of the curve.” I know I could’ve made different choices to avoid some of the things that happened to me, but I believe in what I did. I provided cannabis to folks who need it, I did it to heal people. 


What would you like to see happen in cannabis reform? 


Everybody has somebody in the family that smokes, and most people have probably tried it. A lot of folks believe it's not that big of a fucking deal and yet we still have people getting incarcerated, we still have people that have been incarcerated for it for decades. I share my story because I want to help advocate for these folks. Cannabis needs to stop being a money thing. The industry is working off the same good old boy network that’s been running everything. Politicians need to listen to the people on the ground and front lines, not these big-money MSOs.

By Stephanie Shepard May 14, 2025
When Alexander Kirk walked out of prison on December 10th, he stepped into a world that had shifted beneath his feet. But the shift wasn’t universal. In Iowa, where he lives, cannabis is still fully illegal. Drive two minutes across the bridge into Illinois, and that same plant, once the root of his decade-long incarceration, is not only legal but a booming, billion-dollar industry. That contradiction sits at the center of Alex’s story. He’s a father, a mechanic, a reader, and a deep thinker. He’s also someone who spent more than ten years of his life behind bars for the same substance that dispensaries now sell with flashy packaging and tax revenue incentives. “It’s crazy,” he says. “One side of the bridge is legal, the other side isn’t. It’s hard to believe.” A Life Interrupted Alex’s most recent sentence—ten years in federal prison—started with a bust that was as much about timing and proximity as anything else. He was on federal probation for a previous cannabis offense. A raid at a residence he didn’t live in, but where his truck was parked, ended with a federal indictment. A tip from his child’s mother, who was angry about a disagreement over vacation plans, helped open the door for the investigation. “She made a call, gave them a tip,” Alex recalls, without bitterness, just clarity. “And that’s all it took.” The charges? Conspiracy to distribute less than 50 kilograms of marijuana—a charge that, while less than the quantities tied to large-scale trafficking operations, still carried weight under federal law. He received 80 months for the new charge and another 40 months for violating parole. The math added up to a lost decade. “I had already done ten and a half years the first time,” Alex says. “I was institutionalized. Prison became familiar. It’s where I knew how to move.” But even when you know the rules, prison isn’t easy. The hardest part for Alex wasn’t the food, the routines, or the guards—it was missing his children growing up. “I got five kids. Three of the older ones talked to me after and explained how I chose the streets over them. That was hard. But it was true.” He reflects on it now with a kind of painful honesty: “I didn’t want to pay for weed, so I started selling it. I smoked, and I hustled. Eventually, it got out of hand.” Knowledge Behind Bars Alex didn’t spend his time in prison passively. He worked in the prison garage, learning to fix cars—something he’d loved as a kid. He dove into books and self-help titles. One that stuck with him was The Voice of Knowledge by Don Miguel Ruiz. “That one changed things,” he says. “It helped me realize everyone’s got their own story they’re telling themselves. That helped me stop taking things so personally.” He also began thinking about the world beyond prison. He drafted a business plan for a youth program designed to keep teens from ending up like him. “I wanted to show them they had options,” he says. “You don’t always get that when you grow up in survival mode.” The Politics of Legalization What’s jarring about Alex’s story is not just the sentence—it’s the fact that it happened while the national conversation around cannabis was changing rapidly. By the time Alex was halfway through his sentence, multiple states had legalized recreational marijuana. Billion-dollar brands were being built. Politicians were posing for ribbon-cuttings at dispensaries. Celebrities were launching product lines. And people like Alex were still behind bars. “It’s unjust,” he says bluntly. “There’s no reason someone should be locked up for weed while companies are out here getting rich off it. The little guy got crushed. They legalized it after locking us up, but didn’t let us out.” The irony was never lost on him: that he was doing hard time for something that was now a tax revenue stream in neighboring Illinois. A Second Chance and Real Support Alex’s sentence was reduced under the First Step Act—a federal law aimed at correcting some of the harshest penalties in the justice system. Thanks to that and a longer placement in a halfway house, he was released earlier than expected. Through a friend, he reconnected with a woman from his past who introduced him to the Last Prisoner Project (LPP) . At first, he was skeptical. “We never heard about people helping folks like us. I didn’t think it was real.” But he gave it a chance—and found not just advocacy, but consistency. “Even getting emails, updates, hearing from people… that helped. It made me feel like someone gave a damn.” Through LPP, he learned that he qualifies as a social equity candidate in states with legalization programs. That means access to business licenses and support that could help him transition into the legal cannabis industry. He also learned he might qualify for early termination of his probation—a process he’s now pursuing. “I want to get into the legal side,” he says. “I know the game. I lived it. Now I want to do it right.” Life After Prison Alex is currently working in the halfway house kitchen. He’s trying to stay grounded, focused, and patient. Reentry is never easy. “You come out and everything is fast. You feel like you’re behind. But I remind myself: it’s not a race.” He’s rebuilding relationships with his kids. He’s focused on starting a business—maybe something in cannabis or something with cars. He hasn’t fully decided, but he knows he wants to help others, too.  “There’s still a lot of people inside,” he says. “And they shouldn’t be. Not for weed. If we’re really gonna legalize it, let’s legalize it for everybody. That means letting people go.” “Get to Know Their Story” Alex doesn’t want pity. He’s not asking for a handout. What he wants is what most people want: a chance to live free, to work, to be with his family. To matter. “Just because someone’s been to prison doesn’t make them violent. Doesn’t make them a bad person. Get to know their story.” Alex’s story is one of transformation, not because the system rehabilitated him, but because he did the work on his own. Now he wants to use his experience to change the system itself. He’s already started.
By Lulanne Alexander May 6, 2025
Bill advances long-overdue justice and support for communities most impacted by the War on Drugs Philadelphia, PA — The Last Prisoner Project praised the Pennsylvania House for passing House Bill 1200 , a comprehensive cannabis legalization and regulation bill that centers justice, retroactive relief, and public health. Sponsored by Chair Dan Frankel, Representatives Rick Krajewski and, HB1200 charts a bold path forward for Pennsylvania to not only end cannabis prohibition but also repair the damage it has caused — especially to Black and Brown communities. "Pennsylvania is long overdue for cannabis reform, and while HB1200 is not perfect, it seeks to undo the deep harms of prohibition,” said Adrian Rocha, Director of Policy at the Last Prisoner Project . “This bill recognizes that legalization without justice is not enough. Through automatic expungement and retroactive relief, HB1200 sets a new standard for what responsible, people-first cannabis policy should look like. As the General Assembly continues to debate other important aspects of this bill, the Last Prisoner Project urges Pennsylvania lawmakers not lose lose sight of the broad consensus that legalization without retroactive relief is not best interest of justice or the Commonwealth. ” Despite shifting public opinion and growing national momentum, Pennsylvania continues to criminalize people for marijuana use. This criminalization has devastated families and communities, created an unregulated market, and deprived the state of much-needed tax revenue. HB1200 directly addresses these issues by including provisions for automatic expungement of past nonviolent cannabis offenses, sentence modification for those serving time for cannabis, investments in communities most impacted by the War on Drugs, and strong public health protections. HB 1200 will now move to through the Senate voting process.
By Stephen Post April 29, 2025
The Cannabis Unity Coalition Hosts Multi-Day Activism Event that Includes a Press Conference, Lobby Day, and White House Rally to Free Those Still Incarcerated Download Photos + Videos from the Week’s Events Tuesday, April 29th (Washington D.C.) - As Americans across the country celebrated the 4/20 cannabis holiday last week, tens of thousands of people sat in prisons incarcerated for cannabis-related offenses, licensed cannabis businesses struggled, and the federal government's cannabis reclassification process remained stalled. But this week, lawmakers and advocates are gathering on Capitol Hill to harness their movements’ momentum and enact change. Mobilizing the 70% of the public that supports legalization into political pressure, the Cannabis Unity Coalition — the largest bipartisan alliance of advocacy, industry, and grassroots organizations — is leading Cannabis Unity Week of Action this week, taking place April 29–May 1, 2025, in Washington, D.C. The multi-day event brings together advocates, impacted individuals, and industry leaders to pressure Congress and the Trump administration to fully legalize cannabis and deliver retroactive relief to those harmed by outdated prohibition-era policies. Advocates started the week today with a congressional press conference at the House Press Triangle, where they were joined by Congressional Cannabis Caucus members Congresswoman Ilhan Omar (D-Minnesota) and Congresswoman Dina Titus (D-Nevada), alongside other representatives who spoke about current legislative efforts. The press conference was followed by a welcome ceremony in the U.S. Capitol Visitor Center. “It’s a pleasure to join the Cannabis Unity Coalition on Capitol Hill to call for federal cannabis reform,” said Congresswoman Dina Titus (NV-01) . “As Co-Chair of the Cannabis Caucus, I am dedicated to working with advocates to modernize the government’s outdated approach to cannabis and ensure that common-sense legislation is advanced in Congress.” “It’s beyond time to legalize cannabis nationwide and expunge records for those incarcerated for cannabis-related offenses,” said Congresswoman Ilhan Omar (MN-05) , newly elected co-chair of the Congressional Cannabis Caucus. "I’m incredibly grateful for the partnership of the members of the Cannabis Unity Coalition and look forward to working together to get this done." As part of their 4/20 clemency campaign with LPP , members of Ben & Jerry’s advocacy team joined to help build awareness and mobilize grassroots efforts to demand clemency from governors across the country. Wednesday will be dedicated to our Lobby Day where attendees will meet with their elected officials on Capitol Hill to advocate for cannabis reform, particularly the newly reintroduced STATES 2.0 Act and PREPARE Act . Coalition partners have planned meetings with elected officials from both parties in the House and Senate including Sen. Cory Booker (D-New Jersey) , Sen. Adam Schiff (D-California) , Sen. Josh Hawley (R-Missouri), Sen. John Fetterman (D-Pennsylvania), Sen. Andy Kim (D-New Jersey), Sen. Elizabeth Warren (D-Massachusetts), Rep. Nancy Mace (R-South Carolina), Rep. Tom McClintock (R-California), Rep. Jamie Raskin (D-Maryland) , and other offices to call for the full legalization of cannabis, the removal of criminal penalties, and retroactive relief. Events will conclude Thursday evening with a Cannabis Freedom Rally outside the White House from 4-9 p.m. to honor those still incarcerated for cannabis and demand their freedom via presidential clemency. The rally will feature previously incarcerated activists like Donte West , Kyle Page , and Deshaun Durham , who was granted cannabis clemency by Kansas Governor Laura Kelly at the end of last year. These activists will lend their voices to the actions and share their powerful stories. The Cannabis Unity Coalition is made up of a broad array of advocate groups span across political boundaries and includes Last Prisoner Project (LPP), members of the Marijuana Justice Coalition (MJC) like Drug Policy Alliance (DPA), National Organization for the Reform of Marijuana Laws (NORML), Veterans Cannabis Coalition, and Parabola Center; members of the Cannabis Freedom Alliance (CFA) like the Reason Foundation and Law Enforcement Action Partnership (LEAP); Students for Sensible Drug Policy (SSDP), which is a member of both coalitions; and industry groups like, National Craft Cannabis Coalition, National Cannabis Industry Association (NCIA), Minority Cannabis Business Association (MCBA), Indigenous Cannabis Industry Association (ICIA), Asian Cannabis Roundtable, and National Association of Black Cannabis Lawyers (NABCL); other organizaitons include Freedom Grow, Marijuana Justice, Doctors for Drug Policy Reform, United Food and Commercial Workers Union (UFCW), Supernova Women, Minorities for Medical Marijuana, DCMJ, Just Leadership USA (JLUSA), National Association of Criminal Defense Lawyers, National Coalition for Drug Legalization and the Marijuana Policy Project (MPP), Mission Green, Latinas in Cannabis, the Equity Trade Network, Cannademix, and Free My Weed Man. Those who can’t join us in D.C. can still participate virtually by contacting your federal representatives and asking them to #DecriminalizeNow, urging your governor to grant clemency to those in your state still incarcerated for cannabis, and following along through our livestream. Learn more and take action at LPP.la/CannabisUnityWeek . ABOUT LAST PRISONER PROJECT Last Prisoner Project is dedicated to freeing those incarcerated due to the War on Drugs, reuniting their families, and helping them rebuild their lives. As laws change, there remains a fundamental injustice for individuals whose conviction is no longer a crime. We work to repair these harms through legal intervention, constituent support, direct advocacy, and policy change. Visit www.lastprisonerproject.org or text FREEDOM to 24365 to learn more. Follow Last Prisoner Project: Instagram | LinkedIn | X/Twitter | Facebook Press contact: Stephen Post LPP Communications Manager stephen@lastprisonerproejct.org