Catalphia Antelope of Inverness is not an exhibitionist.
She grew up in conservative small-town Michigan and has never dressed
provocatively. But when she heard that Donna Sheehan was planning a
protest that involved spelling out "No 2,4-D," an herbicide,
by arranging naked women in a field, she reached for the razor.
"I shaved a little bit down here — just
for vanity," said Antelope, 64, tracing her pelvic bones beneath
her sapphire cotton blouse. To assuage the hesitation over public nudity,
Antelope consulted the I Ching and found the outcome "more auspicious,"
if she participated. And the cause — thwarting the aerial spraying
of 2,4-D, which farmers hope will eradicate thistle in Valley Ford,
Chileno Valley and Nicasio — finally trumped her modest nature.
Antelope took a hot shower, ate a hamburger (naturally
raised beef) and packed her car with three towels in preparation for
the disrobing.
"If I was going to lie down on the wet, cold
earth, I wanted to be warm inside," she said, standing with her
arms crossed on the side of road next to Love Field Wednesday afternoon.
Turkey vultures circled overhead as a chilly breeze sifted through willow
trees and blackberry bushes. The muddied baseball field, not yet recovered
from the flood, did not look particularly inviting. But Antelope got
to keep her clothes on after all.
Late notice
Only seven women showed up at the field, falling short
of the 15 that organizer and life-long activist Donna Sheehan, 75, needed
to decently spell out "No 2,4-D."
"I expected 278," Sheehan joked before calling
off the protest, "but because it’s a cold day and it’s
such late notice…"
Ironically, late notice was a big reason Sheehan called
the protest on Tuesday morning. California does not require that the
public be notified of 2,4-D sprayings and neither does Marin County,
so Sheehan worried that people who hike and bicycle next to the farms
might be unknowingly poisoned.
But Marin County Agricultural Commissioner Stacy Carlsen
says there’s no need to inform the pubic of a rural 2,4-D spraying.
"It’s not considered a hazard," he said. "People
get a visual image of a helicopter applying vast materials over a large
area, and that image is very perplexing to me…they’re only
spraying 10 or 20 acres that are usually inaccessible to the farmer,
so there’s no nexus between a public person and the site."
Sheehan’s naked protesters
It would have been the fifth time Sheehan rallied
naked protesters, which she’s done in the past to criticize the
Gap clothing store chain and the war in Iraq. In January of 2003, Sheehan’s
"PEACE" formation, created by 45 naked ladies on the Point
Reyes National Seashore, attracted international media attention. That
wasn’t surprising to Sheehan, who perceives the media as male-dominated
and therefore acquiescent to messages delivered via nude women.
"I believe it’s our biological power and
it’s contributing to our femininity and self-esteem," she
said. "We don’t use it often enough, politically."
Kate St. Clair, freckled and wearing a fake wolf’s
head on top of her own head, agreed that the tactic could be used more
often. "We grew up in the 60’s," she said. "We’ll
take our clothes off at the drop of a hat."
Postscript
But they didn’t. In lieu of getting naked, the
seven women and one man passionately discussed their views on everything
from deodorant causing breast cancer to a sad vibe given off by certain
cows. Jan Stewart, a Point Reyes Station photographer, passed out German
chocolates that were not organic, but Paul Reffell of Marshall assured
everyone that they were most likely "earth chocolates."
The crowd gradually dwindled, and the women said their
goodbyes and promised to be back next time. Antelope lingered until
the end, when the conversation turned to Latigresa, a Redwood woman
known to write poetry and recite it, topless, to loggers.
"I wish I could be like that," Antelope
said. "I’m glad I came today and I’m interested to see
what happens next."