Amplify Utah supports and facilitates dynamic journalistic storytelling to celebrate diverse points of view. By partnering with traditional media, we cultivate an environment that encourages stories be shared widely and made easily accessible for our communities to read, hear, watch and engage.
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Queer students in Utah’s middle and high schools say they feel left out of the standard health and human development discussions, arguing that what students learn about their bodies and sexuality is not adequate or inclusive.
“Whether you agree with homosexuality or transsexuality or not, it does not negate the fact that you should be educated on it,” said Ellie Uber, 17, a Brighton High School senior who came out as a lesbian two years ago. “It is a school setting where we have the right to learn.”
Students are taught human development as early as kindergarten, and the curriculum evolves as students get older, according to the Utah Core State Standards for Health Education. For example, fifth-grade students, with parental notification and consent, learn about puberty and maturation.
The curriculum must “describe the basic structures of the reproductive and endocrine systems and identify their respective functions” and portray how the body changes and prepares for reproduction.
In middle school, students again learn about physical maturation, and go deeper into the social, cognitive and emotional changes of adolescence.
At middle and high school levels, students are taught to “recognize and respect individual differences in attraction, growth and self-identity,” according to the standards.
In Utah high schools, students are introduced to sexual education. The core standards state the curriculum must provide an “abstinence-based” approach to sexual and reproductive health education.
Uber said she experienced insecurity in her human development courses.
“It becomes awkward when you’re younger, and all the other kids your age are learning about what their sexuality means, and you’re like ‘I don’t know anything about myself or what my sexuality entails,’ “ she said, recalling the isolation she felt in sex education. “[There was] a definite lack of acknowledgment. There’s no education for queerness.”
As a student body officer and spirit leader at Brighton, Uber focused her campaign on inclusivity.
Uber said she has aimed to be a resource for both queer and straight students, by answering questions from her peers and helping to comfort those who are questioning, confused or just curious.
She said some students are hesitant to learn about their sexuality because they might feel the need to identify with one term immediately, whether that is gay, lesbian, trans, straight or something else.
“There’s no talk about how, even though there are a variety of labels under queerness, you don’t have to pick one,” she said.
If none feel right, she observed, students may begin to repress their sexuality out of confusion and feelings of insecurity.
“Without any resources or people to turn to, you start to push it down, and that is mentally exhausting,” said Uber. “I would know. It pushes a lot of kids to the edge, because there is no escape from your thoughts.”
According to the Children’s Hospital of Montefiore, a nationally ranked pediatric teaching hospital in New York City, same-sex crushes are common during the teen years. Teens may experiment with someone of the same gender during adolescence, but that does not necessarily mean those feelings will last. Some of those attractions fade, and some only get stronger.
“You don’t have to know right now, it’s an ever-changing and fluid thing,” Uber said, explaining she wants to see that information relayed in school health courses. “That is something that a lot of kids don’t understand.”
Canyons School District spokesperson Jeff Haney said Utah schools, including Brighton, are bound by state laws around health education, including discussion of identity and sexuality. He encouraged students to read the law and district policies if they want to know more about what topics can — and cannot — be covered in their health classes.
“Students ... are urged to engage in dialogues with their parents and guardians if they have questions or would like guidance in finding information from community organizations,” Haney said.
Getting involved with activities like the Gay Lesbian and Straight Education Network, which is offered as an extracurricular club at Brighton, is also an option, Haney said.
Lillie McDonough, a 17-year-old senior at Highland High School and trans woman, began transitioning during her sophomore year, and found human development confusing. She recalled feeling the education was lacking as early as the fifth-grade maturation program.
“I left the room after and thought, ‘I wish I could have been in the other one,’” she said.
Utah’s maturation program teaches male and female anatomy, reproductive systems and the general physiology of male and female development, according to the Salt Lake City School District.
“They divided us into men and women,” McDonough said. “My thoughts after that were, ‘I wish you got to pick your gender, so I didn’t have to be stuck with this,’ but they never covered that. So, I kind of just had to sit with that [thought].”
McDonough said the course did not mention intersex individuals. Although that information may not apply to most students, she still wishes it had been included in her human development courses.
“They don’t cover at all how it works for trans people, with hormone blockers and reverse hormone therapy,” she said.
McDonough says she wishes she was taught the basics of LGBTQ+ health such as defining different sexual preferences, saying schools should “teach it along with all of the other [topics] and cover all of their bases.”
In the Canyons School District, a conservative group of parents has targeted an emotional health program known as Second Step, and books available in the school libraries. Although intended to help students make responsible choices and build positive relationships by understanding their emotions, links were found in the Second Step program that led to other sites about sexuality and dating, generating concern from parents and the removal of the program from the curriculum.
The district, which includes schools in Sandy and the south Salt Lake valley, is now re-examining its policies on library books, after the group of parents began sending in concerns over the content of some of the books available in the district’s libraries.
Canyons School Board held a Nov. 30 meeting, where students, parents and faculty discussed the decision to remove nine books from school libraries following complaints over inappropriate content. On the list of banned books is “Gender Queer” by Maia Kobabe and “Beyond Magenta” by Susan Kuklin, which center around queer and transgender stories and characters. Controversial literary classics, such as Toni Morrison’s “The Bluest Eye” and Vladimir Nabokov’s “Lolita,” also were on the list.
Connie Slaughter, who encourages parents to read books from their children’s school libraries to note inappropriate content, told board members she supported the removal of the books — saying the content is sexually explicit, includes “filthy” language and is violent.
“I’m nervous about what’s going on,” Slaughter said, mentioning she has grandchildren attending school in the district. “I want them to go to school and not be wondering if they are learning something I don't want them to learn, and I know [their mother] feels the same way.”
Slaughter said the content is divisive and not suitable for adolescents, and that institutions of education, librarians and faculty members should not “continue to push divisive and destructive ideologies and personal agendas.”
She added that “as parents, we really should have a say in what's in our libraries.”
As The Tribune reported in November, librarians and civil rights attorneys have argued that the argument is about limiting what viewpoints — particularly ones from historically marginalized groups — that students can seek out on their own with a library card. None of the titles, they note, are required reading.
Richard Price, an associate professor of political science at Weber State who tracks censorship in school districts, told The Tribune in November: “If you don’t want to look at it, then you don’t have to check it out. But I fear what this group is trying to do is forbid all people from reading them. They’re trying to parent for all parents.”
The district, Haney said, is meant to be a welcoming learning environment for all of its students. “Canyons District’s nondiscrimination policy clearly and specifically prohibits unlawful discrimination or harassment of students on their basis of gender, gender identify and sexual orientation,” he said.
Censorship debates over gender and sexuality, like the one in Canyons School District, contribute to the lack of inclusive education for trans and queer students, said Peter Moosman, coordinator at Salt Lake Community College’s Gender and Sexuality Student Resource Center.
Schools and institutes of education have a “responsibility to incorporate all lived experiences and histories into their curriculum,” he said.
“The queer experience is a lot more visible now than it ever has been, but in hyper-conservative communities, [the experience] is still very lonely and isolating,” he said. “If these things are incorporated into education, it’s mental health care and it’s suicide prevention.”
LGBTQ youth are at a higher risk for negative health and life outcomes than their heterosexual and cisgender counterparts, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. About a third are bullied at school, the CDC reported in its most recent Youth Behavior Risk Survey, and 47% have seriously considered suicide.
Moosman said some of this loneliness and isolation comes from avoiding LGBTQ topics in schools, and that talking about queerness, from sex to mental health issues, in a classroom setting can create a more supportive environment.
“The more we’re talking about [queerness] and creating visibility and representation around it in our education and otherwise, it destigmatizes [the experience] by removing that fear,” he said.
Moosman wants to see changes in Utah’s education system, beyond incorporating queer sexual and reproductive health in the curriculum. He said he hopes for inclusion in history courses, and wants to see schools put “a concerted effort in hiring queer [faculty], so queer youth can see adults and leaders that are queer doing great things.”
Learning about queer existence, Moosman said, is important for students of all sexualities and gender identities, and people of all ages. Providing more accessible queer education in schools, he said, will help people develop a better understanding of the people around them.
Alexie Zollinger wrote this story as a journalism student at Salt Lake Community College. It is published as part of a collaborative including nonprofits Amplify Utah and The Salt Lake Tribune.
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NOTE TO MEDIA PARTNERS PUBLISHING WORKWe also request organizations include the following text either at the beginning or end of the story text:
This story is jointly published by nonprofits Amplify Utah and [Your Media Organization's Name] to elevate diverse perspectives in local media through emerging journalism. Alexie Zollinger wrote this story as a journalism student at Salt Lake Community College. For more stories from Amplify Utah, visit amplifyutah.org/use-our-work.
The Bruin Pantry at Salt Lake Community College — where essential items are available to students, faculty and staff for free — has recently seen greater demand, amid a nationwide rise in the cost of goods.
Diya Shah, coordinator for Bruin Pantries, said more people are visiting the pantry, which offers goods ranging from dry and canned foods to fresh fruit and hygiene products.
“Yes … inflation and rising cost of foods [is] impacting people going to the pantry,” Shah said. “My basic needs coordinator, myself and my student staff are all educating people to de-stigmatize using the food pantry and food insecurity in general. It is rewarding to see people come back and feel comfortable.”
According to the September 2022 Consumer Price Index, the cost of all items increased 8.2% over the last 12 months, and the cost of food was up 11.2% in the same period.
Shah said the pantry has been through difficult times before, and said she has even dipped into her own pockets to keep the pantry stocked with such items as sanitary pads and diapers. Earlier this year, Shah said, she purchased containers of baby formula for the pantry during the formula shortage.
The pantry has locations at four SLCC’s campuses: Taylorsville Redwood, South City, Jordan and the West Valley Center. Shah said the pantry diversifies its items to cater to wider populations.
“West Valley is a very unique location because it primarily serves our Latinx community,” Shah said. “So because of that we are very good about taking culturally relevant food there that the community can utilize.” The pantry, she added, also does its best to supply patrons with gluten-free, vegetarian and vegan options.
Recognizing the impact of inflation on people’s cost of living, coupled with the pantry’s rising demand, Shah said she and her staff work to make patrons feel comfortable.
“I consider myself an introvert, but … connecting with people and talking to people … I think that’s really rewarding,” said Alex Bonifaz, a SLCC student who works at the pantry through the college’s internship program.
The majority of the pantry’s employees are students, Shah said, and she is mindful of their needs.
Students who do not work with the pantry through work study or the internship program are compensated with financial assistance in the form of tuition waivers. Bonifaz said he believes the recent 4% increase in tuition, along with the rise in the price of goods could hurt many students.
The pantry is always looking for help, Shah said, especially now that it is so busy. Those looking to help can stop by any of the pantry’s four locations during hours of operation or go online to submit a volunteer application.
The pantry also accepts donations during distribution hours. For more information about those hours, how to donate and currently requested items, visit the Thayne Center’s web page, slcc.edu/thaynecenter.
Patrick Kennedy wrote this story as a journalism student at Salt Lake Community College. It is published as part of a new collaborative including nonprofits Amplify Utah and The Salt Lake Tribune.
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NOTE TO MEDIA PARTNERS PUBLISHING WORK
We also request organizations include the following text either at the beginning or end of the story text:
This story is jointly published by nonprofits Amplify Utah and The Salt Lake Tribune to elevate diverse perspectives in local media through student journalism. Patrick Kennedy wrote this story as a journalism student at Salt Lake Community College. For more stories from Amplify Utah, visit amplifyutah.org/use-our-work.
Carlos Mejia lived in Mexico until he was 6. That’s when his father saved enough money to move the family to the United States.
Mejia, a first-generation graduate of Salt Lake Community College, has lived here most of his life. He received an associate degree in psychology before transferring to Utah Valley University. He’s now pursuing a business degree.
“Being a first gen, my biggest dream is to walk down the stage,” Mejia said. He dedicated his associate degree to his parents “because they honestly sacrificed so much.”
However, this dream has been threatened more than once. Mejia has legal status under the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals program, established by the Obama administration in 2012 to protect thousands of young immigrants from deportation who were brought to the United States by their parents outside of the legal immigration system.
Former President Donald Trump sought to end the program.
“When I heard he wanted to take it away, I was going into spirals.” Mejia said. “Every day I lived with a fear that I was going to lose everything I had, and the idea of going back to Mexico and starting all over again honestly scared me.”
A Supreme Court ruling in 2020 has kept the program going, but it remains under threat. A federal judge in Texas on July 16 ruled that the program is illegal and ordered the Biden administration to stop granting new applications. That ruling is being appealed.
In response to the Texas decision, Salt Lake Community College President Denece Huftalin promised the college’s ongoing support for the young people known as Dreamers living in Utah.
“As Utah’s most diverse college, we want to reaffirm our ongoing support for all undocumented students,” Huftalin said.
SLCC’s Dream Center provides support for undocumented and mixed-status students. This support service specializes in individualized advising, outreach and scholarship aid for students. In the past academic year, the center aided more than 125 students and awarded more than $62,000 in scholarships.
Mejia works with Brenda Santoyo, the coordinator at the center. Santoyo is a Mexican American who stuck alongside her family when they faced deportation years ago.
“A lot of what I do now is for them, and because I couldn’t help them, I could help other people,” Santoyo said. “I feel like a lot of my background and a lot of what I do here is based off that one experience.”
Santoyo believes Huftalin’s statement shows a pledge by the college to stand by its students.
The recent legal fight — along with the others over the past decade — have been upsetting to the Dream Center’s staff and to students like Mejia.
“I’m honestly tired of the constant battle, where every year something or someone thinks it’s unfair or someone has a problem, but no one is offering a solution,” Mejia said. “If we pay taxes, go to school, and we’re being kind citizens, I don’t see the point of not giving us citizenship or at least provide a little bit of protection where we feel better.”
Santoyo believes anti-immigration sentiment has increased in recent years, driven in part by Congress’ failure to modernize immigration laws. DACA is often talked about as part of a future immigration bill, but the House and Senate have done little.
“It was always a temporary solution, and there still hasn’t been a solution found,” Santoyo said. “I think all DACA has done is really increase access, but in the grand scheme of things, it’s a small population that it’s been able to help compared to the millions and millions of people who are undocumented.”
The Dream Center staff will continue to support “DACAmented” and undocumented students. The office is located on the first floor of the SLCC West Valley Center.
Juan Rios wrote this story as a journalism student at Salt Lake Community College. It is published as part of a collaborative including nonprofits Amplify Utah and The Salt Lake Tribune.
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NOTE TO MEDIA PARTNERS PUBLISHING WORKWe also request organizations include the following text either at the beginning or end of the story text:
This story is jointly published by nonprofits Amplify Utah and [Your Media Organization's Name] to elevate diverse perspectives in local media through emerging journalism. Juan Rios wrote this story as a journalism student at Salt Lake Community College. For more stories from Amplify Utah, visit amplifyutah.org/use-our-work.
Nearly every Memorial Day weekend, the barren expanse of Utah’s west desert enjoys a small taste of tropical paradise.
Members of Utah’s Pacific Islander community head to the Iosepa Memorial in east Tooele County, where they celebrate their history and heritage. Sitting in the shadow of the Stansbury Mountains, this remote memorial consists of a cemetery and pavilion.
It also lies near the original site of Iosepa, a Native Hawaiian settlement at the turn of the last century.
“[The celebration is] an important identity-affirming experience for many Pacific Islanders,” said West Valley City Councilman Jake Fitisemanu. It allows them, he said, to “participate in a social gathering that honors traditions and history.”
Traditionally, the event takes place on Memorial Day weekend, a fitting date since the Iosepan celebration reflects the national holiday’s spirit of remembrance. It also comes during Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month.
When the event takes place, people enjoy traditional performances, prayer and food — including huli-huli chicken and poi, a Polynesian staple made from fermented taro root.
This year, though, the event has been postponed. In a statement, the Iosepa Historical Society announced the celebration — which had been scheduled for May 28 and 29 — will be postponed “due to the ongoing uncertainty of the COVID-19 pandemic.” No make-up date has been announced.
The historical society said the postponement doesn’t mean people can’t gather on their own. “We welcome you and your ‘ohana [family] to come and pay your respects,” the statement reads.
In the 1850s, Joseph F. Smith, nephew of church founder Joseph Smith, served his mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Hawaii, and local converts, eager to worship in the mecca of the Latter-day Saint faith, trickled into Salt Lake City some years later.
The city’s residents did not greet the transplants warmly. In her essay “Life at Iosepa, Utah’s Polynesian Colony,” historian Tracey Panek wrote that “racial prejudice contributed to tension between the Polynesians and the larger Salt Lake community.” One rumor claimed they were plagued by leprosy.
In 1889, a small group of Native Hawaiians and church officials chose to relocate the roughly 50 immigrants west of Salt Lake City to a ranch in the west desert, an arid and unforgiving landscape 75 miles away.
Sepa Faupula, a student and mentor at Salt Lake Community College, said their arrival must have been disheartening.
“I would feel like I was seen as unworthy,” Faupula said. “These people came over with this faith, only to be pushed aside.”
The Iosepans initially struggled to raise crops and to keep warm in winter, but eventually they found their footing. “Our people… have good relationships with the land,” Faupula said, referring to Hawaiians’ proclivity for agriculture, “so they were able to thrive.”
It didn’t happen immediately, though. The first winter was particularly harsh, Panek wrote, as “snow and icy gales forced everyone indoors, and crowded quarters led to an outbreak of influenza.” But the settlers grew accustomed to Utah’s climate, learning to prepare for the cold, and completing an irrigation system to allow for successful growing seasons. The development and sustained upkeep of the colony earned Iosepa the state’s “Clean Town” contest in 1915, as reported by The Salt Lake Tribune in August of that year.
In 1916, Hawaii’s first Latter-day Saint temple was constructed, and within a year Iosepa was abandoned, as Hawaiian residents were now able to worship in their homeland. Whether the Iosepans left by choice or at the urging of the church remains unclear.
Today, there are almost 40,000 Pacific Islanders living in Utah, the vast majority in Salt Lake and Utah counties, according to the Utah Department of Health. Most are affiliated with The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, including 25 Samoan-speaking wards and more than 40 Tongan-speaking wards.
While some in the Pacific Islander community are aware of the role their forebears played in Utah history, this knowledge isn’t universal, Fitisemanu said.
“I think it’s generational,” he said. “My parents’ and grandparents’ generation[s] are more aware and more connected to the story and [the site].”
Awareness may not be the only generational divide.
“There’s been a resurgence of reclaiming our culture,” said Faupula, particularly among younger people, who, in today’s socio-political climate, are more apt to celebrate diversity, advocate for social progressivism, and take a less forgiving view of historical injustices.
Older generations might be more inclined to find inspiration in the Iosepans’ ability to overcome adversity, Faupula said. But “[younger people] feel a lot more resentment… [the Iosepans] shouldn’t have had to prove themselves,” she added, suggesting the establishment of a desert colony was an unfair obstacle for the Pacific Islander cohort to overcome in proving their worth to the Latter-day Saint congregation.
More information about the Iosepa Memorial, and how to contribute to its preservation, can be found at the Iosepa Historical Society’s website, iosepa.net.
Will Stamp wrote this story as a journalism student at Salt Lake Community College. It is published as part of a collaborative including nonprofits Amplify Utah and The Salt Lake Tribune.
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We also request organizations include the following text either at the beginning or end of the story text :This story is jointly published by nonprofits Amplify Utah and [Your Media Organization's Name] to elevate diverse perspectives in local media through emerging journalism. Will Stamp wrote this story as a journalism student at Salt Lake Community College. For more stories from Amplify Utah, visit amplifyutah.org/use-our-work.
