At a recent fundraiser for his ballot initiative, Kevin Matthews stood before a crowd of fifty-plus supporters, many of whom looked like Burning Man regulars. They were there to support Matthews’s cause — decriminalizing psilocybin mushrooms — but also to dig into the mushroom-themed meal that had been prepared for the event.

Not wanting to delay dinner too long, Matthews didn’t mince words.

“May 7, 2019, is the first time in American history that people can vote on psilocybin,” he announced.

Although the mayoral race and the Right to Survive ballot question have received the most media attention ahead of May’s municipal elections, it’s Initiative 301 that has the potential to be the most historic. If it passes, Denver would become the first city in America to decriminalize possession, consumption and cultivation of “magic” mushrooms.

Just as groundbreaking as the initiative itself are the legal and ethical questions that implementing it would pose. Psilocybin — a psychedelic compound found in certain fungi — is still illegal, which means that Denver would traverse uncharted territory should I-301 pass, much as it did in 2005 and 2007, when residents voted to decriminalize limited cannabis possession.

Fueling the battle for Matthews are the life-changing experiences the former West Point cadet has had with psilocybin, which he says pulled him out of severe depression. In particular, he champions the fact that psilocybin is a naturally occurring compound with potential health benefits.

If I-301 passes, Matthews says, “in many ways, we’ll have reclaimed a natural right for people.”

EXPAND Kevin Matthews cultivated I-301. Anthony Camera

Kevin Matthews didn’t always want to be involved in politics. But from a young age, the now-33-year-old Denver native knew he wanted to serve his country.

“When I was nine, I knew I wanted to be in the Army,” he says. “And my dad said, ‘Well, if you want to be in the Army, you’re smart enough to be an officer. And if you want to be an officer, you should go to West Point.’”

For the next ten years, Matthews worked toward that goal.

After graduating from East High School in 2004 and spending a year at a military prep school in New Mexico, he became a West Point cadet — and a member of the U.S. Army — in summer 2005.

“I loved it. I thrived. For me, it was really cool. I achieved the goal that I set out to achieve,” he says.

Matthews did well his first year, both academically and by showing a toughness and resolve that made him stand out. During one training exercise, cadets were exposed to tear gas and made to speak through all the bodily fluids oozing from their pained faces. After the drill was over, Matthews and a friend volunteered to go through it again, adding push-ups — unprompted — to their tasks. “That was the type of cadet I was,” he says.

But things changed his second year. His grades began to drop, and he started to feel depressed, drinking heavily to cope. By the time he entered his junior year, he knew something was terribly off. He saw a psychiatrist, who prescribed an anti-depressant and sleep aid.

“It just didn’t work. It wasn’t working. It’s tough to be on anti-depressants in such a fast-paced and stressful environment,” Matthews says.

Two weeks before fall semester finals, he emailed his tactical officer and his instructors, telling them that he was suicidal and was quitting the Army.

“That’s a pretty big deal. They put me on suicide watch and removed me from classes,” he recalls.

He left West Point before finishing the first half of his junior year, brokering a deal with the school that granted him medical leave for the remainder of that year. He was also allowed to restart the grade at the end of his medical leave.

But he returned to Denver, and the drinking and depression continued. He was arrested for a DUI in March 2008. “That’s really when I was like,‘I’m done. Something’s gotta change,’” he says.

“It opened my eyes. The doom and gloom disappeared, the fog cleared.” Facebook

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Matthews was medically discharged from the Army and is officially retired. “It was more important to me to solve my mental health issues than to be an officer in the U.S. Army,” he says. “I couldn’t fathom putting the lives of my soldiers at risk because I’m mentally unstable.”

Following his discharge, Matthews felt like his life lacked purpose. “I floated for a couple years. The trajectory of my life that I had planned for crumbled beneath my feet; it was gone,” he explains. “I needed to discover who the hell I was.”

He became a voracious reader of self-help books, started practicing meditation, and worked at the front desk of a local health club. Around 2011, he started hanging out with a new group of friends and began experimenting with psilocybin.

“It was like, wow,” Matthews says of his mushroom experiences. “It opened my eyes. The doom and gloom disappeared, the fog cleared. It lasted for weeks and weeks afterward.”

Though used by ancient civilizations for ritualistic purposes for thousands of years, psychedelic mushrooms didn’t gain traction in Western society until the twentieth century. In 1957, Life magazine published an article with an accompanying photo essay titled “Seeking the Magic Mushroom,” in which R. Gordon Wasson, a New York investment banker, narrated his experiences participating in psychedelic mushroom ceremonies in Mexico.