I have held the hands of patients struggling to breathe. I have watched mothers cry in hospital rooms as their teenagers withdraw from nicotine addiction. I have cared for adults with preventable cancers who started smoking before they were old enough to understand the consequences.
As a nurse, I am trained to treat illness. But I am also called to prevent it. That is why I strongly support adopting and strengthening Tobacco Retailer Licensing (TRL) ordinances in our community.
A Tobacco Retailer Licensing ordinance is not radical. It is responsible governance. It simply requires businesses that sell tobacco and nicotine products to obtain and renew a license — much like liquor stores or pharmacies must do. Retailers pay an annual fee, comply with strict age-verification laws, and face real consequences if they sell to minors.
But this is not just about youth vaping. It is also about equity.
For decades, tobacco companies have strategically targeted lower-income neighborhoods and communities of color. Walk through many working-class areas and you will see a higher density of smoke shops and tobacco retailers clustered together. In predominantly Black and Latino neighborhoods, menthol advertising has been disproportionately concentrated. This is not accidental — it is a business model.
As a nurse, I see the consequences of that targeting. Communities of color experience higher rates of tobacco-related illness and death, including lung cancer, heart disease, and stroke. Menthol products in particular have been heavily marketed to Black communities, contributing to higher rates of addiction and smoking-related cancers.
We cannot talk about public health without talking about structural inequities. When tobacco outlets are densely packed into already under-resourced neighborhoods, addiction becomes normalized. Access becomes easier. Quitting becomes harder.
TRL ordinances address this directly.
They limit how many tobacco retailers can operate in a specific neighborhood, preventing clustering in vulnerable communities. They restrict proximity to schools and youth-centered spaces. They enforce compliance with age laws. And importantly, licensing fees fund enforcement — so the system is sustainable and accountable.
In Colorado, we are seeing leadership emerge. Denver has implemented a flavored tobacco ban with full enforcement beginning in 2026. Pueblo County adopted a comprehensive retailer code to align enforcement with public health goals. Here in Aurora, conversations about local licensing and stronger penalties are ongoing.
Strong TRL policies can also include:
• Flavor bans to reduce youth appeal and menthol-driven addiction.
• Minimum price floors to prevent cheap tobacco sales in economically vulnerable communities.
• Prohibiting pharmacies from selling tobacco so healthcare settings reflect healing, not harm.
This is not about targeting businesses — it is about correcting a history of predatory marketing and disproportionate harm.
Every day, nurses treat the long-term effects of tobacco use. We manage oxygen tanks, chemotherapy side effects, cardiac complications. We witness families losing loved ones far too early. And too often, those losses fall hardest on communities that were aggressively targeted in the first place.
Public health policy cannot undo every inequity. But it can refuse to ignore them.
Tobacco Retailer Licensing is a practical, evidence-based tool that reduces youth access, prevents retailer saturation in vulnerable neighborhoods, and aligns business practices with community health values. It gives local governments the authority to say that profit should not come at the expense of our children — or at the expense of communities already burdened by health disparities.
As a nurse, I believe prevention is an act of justice. Passing and enforcing strong TRL ordinances is not just good policy. It is a step toward health equity — and toward a future where fewer families sit at the bedside of a preventable tragedy.
Maisha Fields,BSN,MSN,FNP , is an award-winning nurse practitioner, political organizer and community activist. She opened and operates the Dayton Opportunity Center in northwest Aurora.