2,4-D

“No wonder my skin turns red and gets itchy when I sit on the Green,” my friend Krystal said—as if a light bulb had flashed ‘on’ in her head—the other night after I told her about the irony of my beautiful and toxic spring afternoon. After throwing a Frisbee around yesterday for hours on the Green, my roommate complained that her legs were itching like crazy.

It all began around 10:30 a.m. when I decided to take a break from morning reading of Living Downstream indoors and head outside to enjoy the warm and sunny day that was unfolding. I spread a beach towel out on the still-wet perfectly green and manicured grass outside of Newcastle Hall, and plopped down to relax for a few minutes before class. I noted that the grass had a distinct, unnatural smell, and I found it a little unnerving. Did I smell the popular herbicide Roundup? Maybe. Or, perhaps my mind was playing tricks on me?

Later, Mr. UD Grounds-I’m-protected-by-a-white-suit-man came by our Honors group spraying 2,4-D all over the grass not 20 yards from where we were sitting. This is outrageous, I thought. Here is this guy, who probably has absolutely no idea what 2,4-D actually is, or its potential harm, spraying it all over the grass in the middle of the day. Hundreds of students were outside on the grass. “Oh, but I spray where all the students sit at 5 a.m., so don’t worry about it,” he said to Mariah, as if trying to reassure her that we shouldn’t fret about being exposed (even though he’s the one wearing an ominous-looking white protective suit.) And that’s supposed to make me feel better? As if I sitting on toxic herbicide 5 hours after it was sprayed is that much better than sitting on it after one? Dubious.

Later, I was telling my teammates about the irony of the experience, and a woman walked by, overhearing my disgust and outrage and said, “Nothing to be worried about? They’re wearing protective suits! Not us!” It seems that us 10 students aren’t the only people worried or skeptical about the spraying, or should I say saturating, the grass with 2,4-D and Roundup. But, how can we effect change? It seems that education and raising awareness might be the first step.

After our group dispersed, I continued to sit in the fountain area chatting with a friend. (The sound of the water is relaxing and I’m enjoying it, but I can’t help but think how much more soothing sitting by a real stream is.) By 2 p.m., I realize I have a pounding headache. I’ve been inhaling this stuff all day, I think. Are my headache and 2,4-D related? Or, maybe it’s just too much sun. I hope it’s the latter. As I write this journal, I’m drafting an e-mail to the assistant director of the Facilities and Grounds department about the university’s use of 2,4-D. I’m interested to hear his response.

In an attempt to escape the monoculture monotony of “the Green” I head down to White Clay to truly enjoy the beautiful weather—away from toxic chemical spraying and “green space” that looks more like the backyard of some new suburban home in some new development that was constructed amid sprawl. But, I’m not really away from the chemicals. After all, during the next heavy rain I’d imagine all of the 2,4-D runs off into sewers (that warn “No Dumping: Sewer Leads To Creek”) and into the creek. I can see a variety of birds and hear a diversity of sounds and pitches and calls and songs, which is very different from the eerily quiet Green, absent of a variety of bird species. I notice a ton of white flowers lined along the path, and the field guide tells me the flower is garlic mustard, which is an invasive species (which makes sense because it is everywhere out here). As I walk by the small pond on my right, I notice tall brown reeds—phragmites-—another invasive species to the creek area. It releases a natural toxic chemical from its roots, which kills the surrounding plants and allows it to spread. Thankfully, I realize I no longer have a headache from breathing in the smell of chemically treated grass—I take a deep long breath of air, and the scent reminds me of, well, spring.