Crays Hill, Essex, UK, February 1: Richard Sheridan produces photos of himself taken some years ago. They show a man who was clearly overweight, unlike the slimmed-down version of today. Like most of the Dale Farm Travellers, Richard is living on his verves and taking a cocktail of drugs against diabetes, high blood pressure and anxiety. He’s convinced that a lot of this has to do with the possibility of eviction.

Richard is the chairman of the Dale Farm Housing Association and the public face of the campaign. He personifies the struggle by the Travellers to integrate into society while clinging to their own way of life. Richard is a governor at the local Cray’s Hill primary school and a Minister of the Holy Communion at the local Catholic church, both of which carry some weight with the local non-Traveller community. But at the same time, he’s leading the campaign to preserve Dale Farm as a separate and distinct Traveller community.

Richard lives in a caravan with his wife and young children, and confesses that he would find it hard to live any other way. No matter that the caravan is cramped and the door is always flying open, inviting a chill English wind.

His children are sturdy, but seem to be chronically under-dressed for the weather. The outhouse and bathroom – which Richard’s family built – are functional, but basic. In other words, this is not an easy life. Some of the Traveller families have SUVs and most likely own other property (something that drives the locals crazy). But not Richard. There’s not an ounce of fat on the Sheridan household.

Richard has the soft brogue and friendliness of an Irishman, but he was born in the United Kingdom. He’s had two months of formal schooling in his life, and developed his smarts from traveling around the English countryside. That way of life, he says, is now gone for ever – and he does not seem particularly nostalgic for it.

Traveling has been virtually impossible since 1994, when the British government passed a new law (The Criminal Justice and Public Order Act) which toughened the law against trespassing and made it illegal for a group of more than six vehicles to camp by the wayside. Richard remembers trying to camp in the car park of a Tesco supermarket and being moved from one side of the Dartford bridge to the other by police again and again.

Which is why these Travellers want to settle down at Dale Farm. Richard’s family was one of the earliest to arrive and buy up land, even though it was Green Belt and protected from development. He knew it was illegal, but he didn’t see any alternative if he wanted to stay with his own people. What matters, to Richard, is that the Travellers have made the ultimate concession and decided to settle. They’ve thrown in the towel.

The other thing that stands out from this visit is the interconnected nature of the community. Sheridans, MacArthys, Slatterys and others co-exist in a web of kinship and clans. Maryanne MacArthy, Richard’s mother-in-law, lives in the next plot in a neat chalet. I’ve read several reports from inspectors about Dale Farm, and it’s very clear that little effort has been made to understand the extent and nature of these family ties.

These ties are very different from the nuclear family, and one reason why the Travellers want to live together. Like it or not, this is integral to their culture. If one accepts that the Travellers are a distinct racial group (as does the 1976 Race Relations Act), this should presumably be respected.

Richard also heads the Dale Farm Housing Association. Like so many community-based advocacy groups the Association looks deceptively frail. It has no office, no budget, no paid officials, and no formal structure. In the last three years, it has received precisely one grant, for $500. It is not on the mainstream human rights circuit. Amnesty International does not visit Dale Farm.

But this gossamer-light association has mounted scores of appeals, turned Dale Farm into a cause celebre throughout Britain, and persuaded the British High Court to take up its case, which is an amazing achievement. It is hiring a bus to take protesters to the Court, at a cost of 10 pounds per ticket, and there will be many takers. A hundred Travellers paid 40 pounds ($80) to join.

Running the Association probably adds to the strain on Richard. It’s not just that he has another life, and business to run. He seems uncertain how much others – particularly the younger men – accept him as their representative. You get the sense that they are happy for him to take on the hard work and benefit from his efforts, but do little to contribute. If so, that would also add to the strain.