Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: THURSDAY, June 21, 1990 TAG: 9006210031
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: E-1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: TRACY WIMMER STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
Animal-rights activists are a varied breed. But for many, seeking ways to protect the Earth and its inhabitants - whether two-legged or four- - is no longer a trendy hobby. It's a way of life. And for some, the endeavor to protect is sacred.
On June 11, 25,000 people concerned about animals marched in Washington, D.C. Roanoke-area animal-rights activists were among them, demonstrating against a society that they say has become callous toward species other than its own.
Though the demonstration pulled thousands together, animal-rights activists vary greatly in their beliefs and how they try to act on them.
But Ryan Shumate, Jenny Kolb, Stephanie Scott and Willow Dees do share at least one thing: the view that no human has the right to make another animal suffer - not in the circus, not in the home and certainly not in a laboratory. Simple.
Ryan Shumate and Jennifer Kolb have some hard-luck stories to tell about their clubs.
The Story Club for Children flopped because they couldn't get the clowns and elephants to show. Then the Nancy Drew Club and the Barbie Club both died in charter stages because of lack of membership support.
But a year ago, while weeding her parents' garden, Ryan Shumate came up with what she thought was a winner: Prevention of Cruelty to Animals Club. Kolb agreed.
POCTA is - as far as the enterprising 13-year-olds know - the only animal-rights club for youngsters in Southwest Virginia. Shumate and Kolb have since allowed a few adults to join, but even that didn't halt their success.
Membership stands at 20 - although there aren't any official meetings. And the quarterly newsletter never looked better.
Using Kolb's father's home computer, the girls fill eight pages with stories about the evils of the fur trade, the circus and the zoo, which they label "a prison for animals." They also feature "cruel-free companies" that do not conduct animal testing or use animal byproducts, so that members will know whom to buy from. Their vegetarian dining column, one of their favorites, is filled with recipes such as Favorite Tofu Loaf, Tamale Loaf and Barbecued Tofu.
While Shumate and Kolb's views may seem a bit odd to most adolescents, to them such views are a way of life. Both girls are schooled at home. Both have been vegetarians since they were toddlers. And both girls' parents have been active for years in Greenpeace and People For the Ethical Treatment of Animals.
Shumate and Kolb have recently joined the Humane Farming Association, the National Anti-vivisection Society and People For the Ethical Treatment of Animals. But while their public demonstrations are limited to passing out pamphlets in front of the Roanoke Natural Foods Co-op on Grandin Road, Shumate and Kolb regularly call the 800 numbers provided by animal-rights organizations for companies who test on animals or use 6 1 CAUSE Cause animal byproducts to voice opposition.
When they are old enough, the girls hope to get more involved in the animal-rights movement - to some extent.
"Some people say, `Oh, we have to go get active and scream and yell and beat people up and break some windows,' " Shumate said. "We're not like that. Why bother with animal rights if we're going to hurt humans to get to them?"
Kolb agreed.
"We're opposed to all animal cruelty," she said. "But we don't want to seem like we're crazy."
Stephanie Scott still remembers the cold, steady November rain of last Election Day.
By 10:30 a.m., she was standing alone in front of the Hershberger Road Exxon waving a large sign at passing motorists.
The sign featured a dead fox and the words, "Buy fur and slip into something dead."
Less than a mile away, the Roanoke Airport Marriott was host of a fur sale. Scott brought her own fur clamped in a steel leg-hold trap, a design that has been banned in countries around the world but not in the United States.
Some people honked as they passed by. Others gave her the thumbs-up sign.
The day before, she called local newspapers and television stations, hoping to get some publicity. She got none.
Around 2:30 p.m., Scott, unable to stand the cold anymore, went to the Marriott to see for herself. The animal coats that had been dyed "fashion green" and "fashion purple" made her see red.
But Scott said nothing and left.
"I'm basically a shy person," Scott said recently. "I don't want to be involved in anything too militant, too radical. I just demonstrate on my own."
Scott, 37, has always loved animals and for years has taken in strays. Once she unsuccessfully tried to nurse a stray Doberman pinscher back to health after a spinal cord injury left him partially paralyzed. Scott was forced to quit her job for months so that she could catheterize the dog at all hours and routinely perform physical therapy.
"It almost killed me when I had to put the dog to sleep," Scott said.
Today she shares her home with four cats and a German shepherd.
Scott first got involved in animal rights in the mid-'70s. She was working in a Richmond greenhouse in 1975 when she heard about seal killings in Canada. Alone, she collected close to 1,000 signatures of protest in the city.
Some 18 months ago, Scott became a vegetarian.
"I would never go back" to eating meat, she said. "I'd eat tree bark first."
Today Scott lives off trust funds, taking part-time jobs in the winter and demonstrating primarily in the summer.
In April 1989, Scott made Roanoke headlines when she and two friends demonstrated against the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus at the Roanoke Civic Center.
"People don't see what goes on behind the civic center at those circuses," Scott said. "Lions and tigers jumping through rings of fire and bears riding bikes are not instinctive or normal. To get this type of magic, animals are whipped, poked, prodded and shocked into acting this way."
Scott and fellow protestors were heckled by circus goers.
"Why aren't you helping kids? What about abortion?" they yelled, often the counter-argument of animal-rights opponents.
Scott ignored the screams, adding she does not discuss abortion while discussing animal rights.
Most recently, Scott went to the June 10 March for the Animals in Washington, D.C. Joined by some 25,000 other animal-rights activists from around the world, Scott attended a rally on the Capitol steps after a one-mile march down Pennsylvania Avenue. She came away with one prevalent thought.
"The animal-rights movement has arrived and we're not going to go away," Scott said.
"Always talk to the most radical, and there you will get the truth," Willow Dees said. "At least in the animal-rights movement."
This from the 17-year-old Roanoker after March for the Animals, her first animal-rights demonstration. It will not be her last.
"It was the most incredible high," Dees said. "Being surrounded by people who believe - at least in part - what you believe. At the lowest point you have people who are concerned for animals. At the highest point, there were people who were abolitionists who wanted to see the animals completely freed."
Dees first got involved in animal rights in 1987 after hearing about a film on the abuse of laboratory chimps to be shown at a local college. Dees missed the screening but managed to meet Roanoker Ann Rogers, the woman showing it. Together, the two co-founded the Roanoker Organization for Animal Rights. The loosely organized ROAR boasts only nine core members but recently added 90 signatures to its mailing list during the Earth Day celebration at Mill Mountain.
The core members, Dees explained, believe in basic veganism (the refusal to eat or use anything made from animals or animal byproducts) and ethical and scientific abolitionism (the belief that vivisection - operating on animals for research) is morally wrong and medically unsound).
Her views are strong. She is quick to quote from Hans Reusch's "Slaughter of the Innocent," to tell you that lanolin comes from the slaughterhouse and that meat is murder on a whim.
"I couldn't fall in love with someone who didn't share my beliefs and ideals about animal rights," Dees said. "That would be like a civil-rights activist falling in love with a bigot."
Dees, another home-study pupil, works part time in her mother's housecleaning business when she is not studying about animal rights. She plans to earn a general education diploma and one day become an activist involved with civil, animal and environmental rights.
Until then, she will work for ROAR and for her mother, who occasionally disagrees with her daughter. For example, on fish. Dees' mother thinks fish can't feel pain, but Dees holds that all vertebrates are capable of suffering.
"We know they, too, can feel disturbed and stressed," Dees said. "We don't know that they can feel pain. Most vegans just want to give them the benefit of the doubt."
by CNB