By Joshua McHoes

I never thought I’d help end the same drug war that tore my family apart. But life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.

After my father served in the Army and Air Force, he became an electrician and did the wiring for a cabin that was later used to grow cannabis. 

No joke: That’s it. 

Bravely, in my opinion, he refused to turn in the people involved. And for that, he was sentenced to seven years in Fort Leavenworth military prison under a bad conduct discharge. That decision changed everything, not just for him but for my entire family.

After he got out, he met my mother while on probation, but before I was born in 1991, he failed a drug test and was sent back to jail. So when I came into this world, my father was behind bars for a second time on a non-violent offense. I didn’t meet him until I was almost a year old.

When I was three, we moved to Cordova, Alaska from our small town in Wisconsin, hoping for a fresh start. But there, a local informant exaggerated my mother’s small cannabis purchases into charges of distribution. 

The DA ultimately charged her with a misdemeanor for possession; she pled no contest, did community service, and paid a fine to avoid prison. But even though she did so, and even though cannabis is now legal in Alaska (more on this later), that charge still haunts her; it remains publicly visible to the court system and to any potential employer who would seek to hire her. 

More on that later, too, but you can see why I’m passionate about this: By the time I was a teenager, I’d seen the War on Drugs hurt both of my parents. 

And I freely admit: In my teenage years, cannabis helped me through my struggles. I used it to manage ADHD, depression, and anxiety. It helped me focus on my schoolwork, calm down during stressful times, and stay grounded in a place where I felt alone.

Eventually, though, I started looking for a longer-term solution. I found it in videos of Adam Kokesh on YouTube in 2007, which led me to Ron Paul. From there, I discovered the Austrian economists: Rothbard, Mises, and Hayek. In short, I found that longer-term solution I was seeking in classical liberalism.

For the first time, I had words for the things I had lived. This wasn’t just about drugs. It was about power, control, and the state’s tendency to hurt the very people it claimed to protect.

In 2012, I joined the Alaska Libertarian Party. In 2014, I got involved in Alaska’s cannabis legalization efforts that ultimately passed and went into effect the next year. I had already been working as an electrician and found myself doing the electrical wiring for commercial cannabis-growing operations and dispensaries. 

It was surreal — a full-circle moment. Not long ago, my father had gotten locked up for the same thing.

But electrical work was seasonal and unstable, which strained my marriage. When it ended, I was in emotional turmoil, feeling like everything I had worked for had collapsed. That moment forced me to reevaluate everything. I didn’t just need stability; I needed direction. 

That’s when I decided to enroll at the University of Alaska-Anchorage and pursue something lasting and purposeful. (When I eventually realized I didn’t just want to build physical systems but wanted to fix broken institutional systems, I dropped engineering and physics and switched to political science and economics.)

A big part of that choice, and of my newfound stability, was joining Students For Liberty. I was the only Local Coordinator in Alaska, but I wanted to create a space for real conversation about things like city zoning laws and housing policy, campus censorship, free expression, and, of course, the War on Drugs.

At first, I struggled to organize events and attract applications, but that mission kept me going. And so did SFL’s broader network. They taught me to lean into the values I’ve tried to live by my whole life: humility, ownership, professionalism, and entrepreneurship. 

That’s why it clicked when I discovered those were SFL’s foundational HOPE values. I didn’t have to change who I was. I had found my people: SFL’s staff and students gave me the support I needed to persevere. They helped me realize I didn’t have to take on the world, just my world. I didn’t need to be perfect; I just needed to be honest and principled.

Today, I lead a team of liberty-minded activists in Alaska.

We started a campus free-speech initiative to ensure the university adheres to the First Amendment. I’ve worked with fellow students, faculty, and outside organizations to document cases of administrative overreach.

I’ve also worked with Anchorage Assembly members to pass a ban on municipal use of facial recognition and drone surveillance technologies. We carved out narrow exceptions, like for search and rescue and research, but ensured those tools can’t be used to collect identifying information. It was a quiet win, proving that ideas could still move local policy … when paired with action.

In 2024, I earned an internship in the Alaska State Legislature for the 2025 session. I documented hearings, wrote memos, and interviewed legislators. I even got to craft research papers on long-term issues facing Alaskans. These weren’t just ideas on paper, though; they influenced and will continue to influence decisions.

Now, I serve as a State Policy Intern with the Marijuana Policy Project and am helping build a coalition to advance cannabis legalization in Pennsylvania. This time, the fight isn’t just personal; it’s principled. We want to return cannabis policy to the states and create a framework that respects personal freedom.

I’m also working to support a bill that was in our legislature recently. It would, finally, expunge cannabis charges in Alaska — charges like the one that still hangs around my mom’s neck.

This work matters to me more than I can put into words. I believe in personal growth because I was born into, but ultimately overcame, the War on Drugs. I believe in liberty because I’ve seen my parents live without it. And I believe in the power of ideas because the right ones saved me.

Now, along with SFL, I’m fighting to ensure that the next generation doesn’t have to go through what I did.

And I’m just getting started.