Malsanto Corporation does not belong in Wilbur County
by Rachel Angelina Valazques
Many of you know me as the custodian at Old Paiute High School. I have not lived in Germaine for very long –about two years– so I hope you do not think me too forward about commenting on community affairs.
It has come to my attention that a very bad corporate citizen has set up a research facility in Wilbur County. This company, a huge transnational conglomerate, is called Malsanto. Let me tell you about Malsanto.
My grandparents on my mother’s side of the family farmed for many years in the area around Ontario, Oregon. They grew alfalfa and corn and melons, among other things. They are dead now, but my uncle kept the farm going until three years ago, when he took his own life, and those of his wife and three children.
Why did he kill himself and his family? One word: Malsanto. Now you may think that this is hyperbole, but let me tell you what Malsanto did.
You see, my uncle was struggling, as most small farmers do. Six years ago, the company which sells him seed offered to give him some melon seed at half price, if he would try this new variety.
Now, my uncle is not the most well read man, and he is a farmer, not a lawyer. So he didn’t read the fine print, which said that the crops would yield sterile seed. Now that is not such a big deal with melons, as many varieties are seedless.
But my uncle was a poor man. A portion of his crop always goes to seed production. They didn’t tell him that although the seed was sterile, the pollen was not. And that when the new varieties cross-pollinated with his seed crop, then all of his seed would be rendered sterile.
My uncle’s business, and his life, were ruined by this company, Malsanto.
And his cousin in Idaho was driven from business when his organic corn crop was contaminated by Malsanto’s genetically-engineered corn from his neighbor’s field. Not only did it destroy his organic farm, but Malsanto then sued him for “stealing” their G-E seed stock.
This is evil, and it is unconscionable. But let me tell you one more thing about Malsanto which you might not know.
This company is not only in the seed business. For decades they have produced pesticides and chemical defoliants which have been tied to cancers and other human ailments. They have produced horrible weapons for use in war. This is not a company which is out to better humanity. They are not a company which we should welcome here in Wilbur County.
If you care about this, then you should join a group of people who will be discussing Malsanto at the Germaine Public Library on March 3rd at 1 pm.
July 16th, 2007 at 3:09 pm
[...] I had to drag Dad down to the May Day event the other day. I knew if he didn’t go, he would regret his decision of last Thanksgiving when he said he would never “cover another of those crackpot events organized by Willie.†But I had heard through the grapevine that EcoSurvival Village was organizing some farmworkers to join the rally, and I knew this would be a real news story. The size came as a complete surprise to me. I know that forty people isn’t so many, especially if you live in a larger town, but I doubt if there has been a rally of this magnitude here since The Great Depression, or earlier. A visitor from the city would probably see nothing unusual; a few impassioned, but tame, speeches; some interesting and creative signs; some big, colorful puppets of George Bush and the CEO of Malsanto. But I could see the good citizens of our little town had their eyes popping. I came as an impartial observer, good journalist that I am. Yet I can’t help having some sympathy for these brown-skinned folks who bring the food to our table. I had come prepared to walk with the marchers the entire seven miles to the Malsanto Research Station. I had my day pack, bottled water, and some trail mix, along with my reporter’s notebook and some spare pens. I knew Dad would never go on this journey, but I was determined to get a feel for the changes happening in our town. What I saw at the Square nearly made me loose my resolve. Three strange men stood calmly at the edge of the park, next to the Square. All three wore those wrap-around sun glasses. The man on the left had on an army green uniform, like federal marshalls or DHS agents wear. The other two were in fatigues. They looked just like the folks I ran into on my trip to Joseph. They observed the crowd coldly, and frankly it gave me the willies. I pushed my fear down into my gut, and headed out with about 25 others. With each step I expected to be met with some local vigilante group or platoon of Immigration men in government SUVs, but I soon forgot all about those men in the park as I chatted with Raul, one of the marchers. Raul is a lead worker at McCoy Industries. He says that McCoy treats him fairly well, but he and his family are under constant fear that the Border Patrol will deport him back to Mexico. His family lives in McCoy’s farmworker housing, and it seems like old Harlan has some connections to help keep the authorities at bay, because in the last two decades of large-scale farming, he has never been raided. Ever. Raul says he can no longer keep silent. He has worked for McCoy for six years, and he has family all over Oregon. He has watched the anti-immigrant attitudes build, until he now fears for his family’s safety. “My children must wait at the road with their mother each day for the school bus, and sometimes people throw things at them,” Raul recounts. “Once a farm truck drove off the road and nearly struck them. The driver cursed and shouted, go back to Mexico.†My heart goes out to Raul and his family. I talked with several other marchers along the way, but none of the stories touched me as much as his. When we finally arrived at the gate to Malsanto, I once again saw the men in fatigues. The government man was no longer with them. They sent ice through my bones, these men. Who are they? And what are they doing here in our sleepy little Wilbur County? [...]