8 March 16-22, 2023 dallasobserver.com DALLAS OBSERVER Classified | MusiC | dish | Culture | unfair Park | Contents Reading the city manager’s report was “enraging” to Armintor. She alleges that in- formation was omitted, such as the fact that Austin’s ordinance hasn’t faced major is- sues, likening it to “gaslighting.” The progressive group Ground Game Texas partnered with advocates in Denton and other cities to help lead the decriminal- ization campaign. Mike Siegel, the group’s co-founder and general counsel, agrees that Prop B is enforceable. City councils in Texas often adopt ordinances that may face legal challenges, he said, but they can press on until a judge tells them otherwise. “You can see how the city manager is dis- respecting the people as policymakers, even though the Texas Constitution and the city charter of Denton guarantees the people the policy-making rule,” he said. “Because the city manager is treating the people’s vote as something less than our regular city council vote, and that’s not how it should be under the law.” The way Siegel sees it, voters should have been advised of legal risks prior to hitting the ballot box, but afterward? “Once they voted, that should be respected like any other ordinance in the city code.” Denton City Council member Jesse Da- vis said the council has known for a long time that much of the measure is incompati- ble with state law. Davis told the Observer that parts of the ordinance, like the budget- ary provisions, can’t be enacted by referen- dum. “Otherwise, you’d have people voting on referendums like: The tax rate is zero, the city budget only goes to fix the streets in my neighborhood,” he said. City council members can’t simply ig- nore that Texas law exists and they can’t tell the police which rules to enforce, Davis said. But members are ready to focus on what they can do moving forward instead of what they can’t. The democratic process isn’t just polls and referenda and headcounts; it includes representative democracy, Davis said. Each city council member was elected by the peo- ple, and each took an oath to uphold the laws of the U.S. and state constitutions. Davis said a number of his constituents have contacted him about Prop B. “I had to have some frank conversations with them about where we fall in the hierar- chy of legislation,” he said. “And I’m very frustrated by some folks out there in the community who know better, or should know better, [who are] misleading people about our role in the scheme of laws and statutes in the state of Texas.” Davis will face a recall on May 6, the same day he’s up for reelection, after detrac- tors circulated a petition that partly claims he’d ignored “the will of over 32,000 Den- tonites” when it comes to the ordinance. He contests that assertion as “factually inaccu- rate” and said he’s confident that voters will cast their ballot based on his record. D ecriminalize Denton’s Stevens re- members the wave of catharsis that swept over him, the flood of warm tears. He describes himself as a rule- follower and devout Catholic, yet he found immense relief by way of a plant that’s still illegal in many states. The day after he started using marijuana, he estimates that he uncontrollably sobbed for around two hours. “It was just like this release of trauma I was holding onto that I didn’t know how to let go of,” he said. A series of experiences dating to Ste- vens’ childhood, such as sexual assault and traumatic surgeries, left him with PTSD. He’d tried many prescription drugs and nothing seemed to help. Antidepressants rendered Stevens unable to even feel his sadness, he said, describing it as a “really torturous feeling.” “So you know, being able to use some- thing that — excuse me,” Stevens said, his throat catching, “doesn’t make me feel that way, but allows me to objectively see the sit- uations I’m in and how to healthily cope with them; have a full night’s rest and not have to wake up with nightmares; learn how to have healthier relationships with friends and loved ones and family; learn how to have a healthier relationship with my wife; unfortunately, for me, pharmaceutical med- ication didn’t do that.” It’s been tough on Stevens to be one of the faces of the Decriminalize Denton movement, particularly given his religious background. He said the stigma attached to marijuana has been hard to overcome. But for him it’s important to forge ahead as peo- ple with less means are imprisoned over small quantities of the plant. It strikes him as unfair that some marijuana users can af- ford to sign up for Texas’ Compassionate Use Program — which, as a patient himself, costs Stevens thousands of dollars per year — while others who are less fortunate must continue to risk their freedom. Carter, the grower, has also witnessed cannabis’ health benefits when it comes to his mother, whose cancer is now in remis- sion. “The fact of the matter is that my 65-year-old mother, who can be driving down the road, simply for having medicine in her car, can be arrested. That’s just an out- rage. It’s literally just herbal matter.” Marijuana advocates like Stevens see the Lone Star State as stuck in the Stone Age. Texas is losing out on tax dollars that could go toward public education or fixing the rickety power grid, he said. For Stevens, the push for the decriminalization — and even- tually, legalization — of marijuana is deeply personal, but it’s also rooted in compassion. He knows how much it’s helped him and just wants the same for others. Whatever its ultimate fate, Prop B was a good first step to- ward that goal. “The medicine for me is life and death; it’s a life-and-death medication,” Stevens said. “The medication is about the dignity that all people deserve: to not suffer.” ▼ POLICE A DIFFERENT EPIDEMIC DALLAS LAWMAKER AIMS TO STOP VIOLENCE AGAINST HEALTHCARE WORKERS, BY SIMONE CARTER L ast October, a gunman killed two healthcare workers after assaulting his girlfriend, who had just given birth to their baby at Dallas Methodist Hospital. Nestor Hernandez, 30, was out of prison on parole but had reportedly removed his ankle monitor at some point prior to the fatal shooting. Now, a Dallas lawmaker is proposing leg- islation aimed at protecting hospital work- ers and others in the broader community. Democratic state Rep. Rafael Anchía has introduced two bills to help prevent such a crime from occurring again. House Bill 3547 would prohibit parolees from cutting off their ankle monitors (which is not currently a criminal offense), and HB 3548 would make it a third-degree felony to assault hos- pital personnel. The bills are named after the two Meth- odist hospital employees killed in October’s attack, Jacqueline Pokuaa and Katie “An- nette” Flowers. “Our hospitals need to be safe havens, and our hospital workers need to be pro- tected,” Anchía said during a press confer- ence last week. Dallas-Fort Worth Hospital Council President and CEO Stephen Love further highlighted the need for such safeguards during the conference. The Oct. 22 shooting was a “tragedy,” he said, but it’s unfortu- nately far from an outlier. Surveys have found that hospitals across the country regularly witness workplace vi- olence, Love said. “We have to realize that some days, emo- tions run high,” he continued. “But we need a safe place for the patients, for the patients’ families, and, of course, the healthcare workers.” Hospitals throughout Texas and the U.S. struggled with workforce shortages during the worst of the coronavirus pandemic. Staffing problems, though, have continued to fester. Serena Bumpus, CEO of the Texas Nurses Association, cited a 2022 study that found in the second quarter of last year, an average of more than two nursing personnel were assaulted every hour. That’s around 57 assaults per day and nearly 1,740 per month, she said. In reality, those numbers are even higher because assaults often go unreported by nurses, she said. Many healthcare organiza- tions don’t have a process for addressing or preventing such violence. “I have been a registered nurse for 20 years,” she said. “Workplace violence has reached epidemic proportions in the last several years, specifically since COVID.” Nurses have told Bumpus stories of peo- ple getting held at knifepoint, being repeat- edly hit and kicked, and receiving threats from some who say they will return and “shoot up” the facility. Verbal abuse, sexual harassment and sexual assault were also in- cluded in these reports, she said. Nursing shortages have prompted nearly two-thirds of the state’s hospitals to experi- ence a reduction in beds and services, ac- cording to a recent survey by the Texas Hospital Association. In addition, 98% of survey respondents said that violence to- ward hospital workers has either remained the same or significantly spiked since the beginning of the pandemic, with 61% re- porting that the severity of the violence has worsened. Just one out of the survey’s 178 partici- pants said that the frequency of violence has decreased since COVID-19. “If our staff isn’t safe and they’re not wanting to come back to work, it’s a major issue for the hospital in general and its liveli- hood,” Cameron Duncan, THA’s vice presi- dent of advocacy and public policy, told the Observer. “So basically, anything we can do to keep them safe, and we’re happy to sup- port those bills ... out there that do that.” Anchía’s bill aimed at tackling hospital- worker assault is a “good part of the strategy to prevent workplace violence,” Duncan said. He also pointed to another proposal, HB 112, that would require hospitals Alicia Claytor Smoke ’em if you got ’em at Smoke N Chill. Unfair Park from p6 >> p10
