When a federal judge rejected a motion last month by residents of the Point Reyes National Seashore’s ranches, they were denied a seat in negotiations over the park’s future, and they felt silenced.
For nearly three years, the settlement talks over the future of agriculture in the park were kept confidential from the ranch workers, ranch tenants and their families, who are mostly Latino. After they made a plea for representation in the final hour, U.S. District Court Judge Maxine Chesney dismissed it.
The residents, including 20-year-old graphic designer Marco Alcantar, who was born on a dairy in the park, were appalled. Mr. Alcantar responded by creating a graphic—an illustration of a man in a tejana-style hat with tape covering his mouth. He said it expresses the collective frustration he shares with his neighbors, and he views it as a way to enter the conversation and be heard.
“It is his voice, and we should listen,” said Socorro Romo, executive director of West Marin Community Services. “The same thing this photo says, the residents have said to me.”
Making a statement against the establishment comes with risks. When housing is contingent upon employment, as it is for some residents in the park, speaking up against the interests of an employer can negatively impact chances of finding work in the future. That can lead to self-censorship rooted in the fear of retaliation, Mr. Alcantar said.
The need to provide for one’s family and keep food on the table can preclude civic engagement, he explained.
But in weighing the consequences of speaking out, Mr. Alcantar asks, “If I don’t do it, then who will? Who is going to save us? I am tired of seeing minorities get walked over.”
The settlement agreement announced last month was made between the National Park Service, the environmental groups who sued it and the ranch owners who intervened, and all the parties were bound by gag orders. That left the residents who tend to the cattle and live on site with little to no information about the negotiations and, now, about what’s in store for their future.
“We have no clue what’s truly going on,” Mr. Alcantar said. “Even though the agreement has already been signed, there’s no true communication to what is going on.”
Residents know that the ranches and dairies will be shut down over the next 14 months. That means that as many as 90 residents will lose their homes, and some of them will also lose their jobs.
“In reality, we are on land that is not ours, and maybe they are right,” said Rosa Rodriguez, who lives on a dairy in the park. “But really what we should do is think: Am I doing the right thing? Should I remove this bandage from my mouth and yell to the world that I am here? Or should I continue in silence?”
Last fall, Ms. Rodriguez was on a panel of speakers during the unveiling of a groundbreaking farmworker housing study. She is a member of the Committee for Housing Agricultural Workers and Their Families, which published a study of West Marin’s housing conditions and needs and has brought together county officials, farmworkers, ranchers, tenants, foundation donors and affordable housing advocates in meetings since 2018.
Attorney Andrew Giacomini, the lawyer representing the ranch residents, filed an appeal the same day that the motion to intervene was denied, challenging Judge Chesney’s decision in the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals. He is also representing the ranch workers in a separate pending lawsuit against the park service, as he pursues every legal avenue to secure his clients’ right to remain in their homes.
At the same time, Marin County officials are considering emergency measures that could expedite approvals for temporary shelters to accommodate residents who will be forced out of their homes as part of the ranch closures.
During times of crisis, people can sometimes find themselves in a state of panic in which their first impulse is to search for someone to blame. But in this case, there may be no single entity to blame.
Ms. Romo said residents have lived with the threat of ranch closures for decades, so the experience of uncertainty became white noise. In addition, organizing residents in the park is no easy task. People worry about retaliation, displacement and the heightened visibility that accompanies any participation in public discourse.
Still, residents say that they have been attempting to discuss the scenario they now face for quite some time, but that their pleas have fallen on deaf ears.
Unless they find success in their legal effort to remain in their homes, residents must brace themselves for the radical change on the horizon. Affordable rentals are scarce in West Marin, and transitions away from the coast and over the hill will be felt acutely by local businesses and schools.
Last month, as Mr. Alcantar recounted climbing over fences and chasing cattle as a young child in the park, he watched the Jersey cows cross the road under the midday sun. Born on the Historic C Ranch, his entire life has been centered on ranching and agriculture.
Now, as a student at Sacramento State University, Mr. Alcantar is studying graphic design. He was one of 14 students across the nation selected by the United States Department of Agriculture to work on public-facing visual materials in Washington, D.C. last summer. The internship is only offered to students with agricultural backgrounds, and Mr. Alcantar was the first in the program to receive an offer to stay on once the internship ended. Cabinet members and visitors entering the Department of Agriculture headquarters are now greeted by graphic displays created by Mr. Alcantar.
For tourists, the ranches in the seashore may be a highlight of their visit or a backdrop for a self-portrait, Mr. Alcantar said.
But for residents, the roots of their family tree are intertwined with ranching in the park, making it difficult to separate their stories from every bend and curve in the landscape. This park is their world, and for some, it is all they know and love.