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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05-11-2025 By Jordan Thornblad
"It [is] so important to Utah history that we don’t brush this under the rug."
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There was a moment, the Guatemalan poet Miguel Ángel Oxlaj Cúmez said, when he thought to himself, “if my humanity was going to be ridiculed, why would I speak [it]?”
Speaking at Salt Lake Community College, Cúmez recalled how Spanish colonizers often punished, beat or killed Indigenous people for speaking their mother tongue. The subsequent rise of the Spanish language even resulted in a crop of great significance to the Indigenous Kaqchikel culture — corn — being used against them.
“They would make us kneel on corn kernels until we admitted that Kaqchikel was useless,” he said.
Cúmez spoke at a Feb. 21 event called “Mother Tongues and Their Right to Coexist.” The event — which also featured poet Rosa Maqueda Vicente, from México and of the Hñähñu people — was presented primarily in Spanish (with translation devices available), and put on by SLCC’s Latin American Studies Program and the nonprofit Artes de México en Utah (Arts from México in Utah).
The event focused on languages in Latin America, and the systemic erasure and importance of Indigenous languages. Both poets speaking detailed the stories of their respective languages, and the roots of erasure and discovery.
Before the 16th century Spanish colonization of what’s now México, one could find an estimated 350 Indigenous languages across the region. As of 2020, according to one study, only 5.8% of people in Latin American regions speak Indigenous languages.
Carolina Bloem, associate professor of Spanish at SLCC and director of its Center for Latin American Studies, said language can be a tool of resistance. While some may not realize it, she said, Spanish has become a tool of erasure for Indigenous languages in Latin America.
Indigenous languages, Bloem said, aren’t simply tools of communication. When a language dies out, so does a whole block of knowledge and words.
Cúmez said that continuing to speak his mother tongue is a way to respect and “[honor] the memory of the pueblos.”
Vicente said she often questioned whether her culture left a legacy. She shared how her need to reconnect with her own mother tongue came from the realization that her education was only centered on Mayan history — and the denial of her own roots motivated her to learn past that one version of history.
Vicente, talked about a group project, Siwar Mayu (“A River of Hummingbirds”), a website that highlights Indigenous languages through poetry from different artists — Vicente, and Cúmez among them.
“Being a part of a collective pushes you forward,” Vicente, said.
Fanny Guadalupe Blauer, executive director of Artes de México en Utah, shared a familial story of reconnection — about her grandfather, who held regret for not learning his mother tongue.
Her grandfather’s final words, Blauer said, were “I ask for forgiveness from my mother, because she spoke to me in her mother tongue, and I never answered. I ask for forgiveness of you, because you carry her name but not her language.”
Andrea Silva, a staff member at Artes de México en Utah, said events like this one raise the question of where our languages come from. Although some people may not speak a mother tongue, the discussion can lead them to question the origins of their language.
“It is important to question where you come from, who you are, and who you want to be,” Silva said.
Ashley Orduna 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. Ashley Orduna wrote this story as a journalism student at Salt Lake Community College. For more stories from Amplify Utah, visit amplifyutah.org/use-our-work.
Zee Kilpack grew up in Willard, a small town in northern Utah, where they spent every Sunday in church, surrounded by family and community members.
In high school, Kilpack said they remembered having a crush on their same-sex best friend and not understanding why they felt that way. Worse, Kilpack didn’t feel like they could confront this feeling, after watching a fellow student come out as gay and suffer community backlash.
“Their family were treated unfairly, and unfortunately, the kid eventually committed suicide,” Kilpack said. “This experience showed me that I shouldn’t come out to my family.”
It wasn’t until they moved to Salt Lake City that Kilpack found the language and understanding to find a community in which they belonged. Once Kilpack met other young queer people like them, it was easier to open up and find their identity.
“My family was still in Willard … it’s such a closed community that I was worried that if I came out — even if I didn’t live at home anymore — that reputation would follow my family and they’d be excluded from the community there,” Kilpack said.
These experiences motivated Kilpack, along with other members of the LBGTQ+ community, to spread awareness about suicide prevention through art. Lilian Agar, a queer artist from Mexico, brought these voices together with an art exhibit called “A Hug Away.”
The exhibition ran in January at the Utah Museum of Contemporary Art in January, and ran May through July at Salt Lake Community College.
Agar’s art now can be seen on her website, LillyAgar.com. There, Agar also features behind-the-scenes photos, artist’s notes, LGBTQ+ suicide prevention resources, and a virtual, three-dimensional representation of the exhibit.
Agar said the exhibition is on display at the Huntsman Mental Health Institute, on the University of Utah campus, now through the end of October — though efforts to open it to the public are still in the works. Agar said she has joined the institute’s campaign to end the stigma about mental health.
(Agar also is producing a series of events in October to mark Domestic Violence Awareness Month. One of those involves a project, “New Perspective,” that she first displayed in Los Angeles in 2019.)
On her website, Agar described “A Hug Away” as “a tribute to life, focused on Suicide Awareness and more specifically, the LGBTQ+ youth in living in Utah.” The exhibit, Agar said, also serves as an important reminder to the community that love and kindness are necessary in a world filled with prejudice and hate.
“During the pandemic, we couldn’t be around our loved ones and [we] couldn’t touch them, and we were suddenly hyper aware of how much we wanted to hug our loved ones,” she said.
The exhibit included four paintings — accompanied by headphones for audio — and one mirror with copper tape, all of which provided a glimpse into the life story and growth of four LGBTQ+ community members. Each painting was connected to a motion sensor, to allow the listener to learn about the subject’s past, present and future.
Agar shared her personal story, about growing up in Mexico and moving in with her mother at 14 years old.
“[My mother] was very concerned that I was becoming ‘machona,’ which is a term in Mexico to say a female that is more manly,” Agar said. “She threw away my clothing and she was like, ‘Now you’re going to wear pink.’”
Agar said she wanted those who didn’t even know they were queer to hear stories about people like them and to not feel alone. That sentiment motivated Maddison Cam, who is trans-nonbinary, to become a part of the project.
“I knew that it was going to be in service to the queer community here in the valley,” Cam said. “So that’s what really got me. It was just knowing that anything I did was going to be in service to a greater purpose.”
Cam, a Salt Lake City performance artist, is no stranger to sharing stories through art. Their one-person puppetry drag and burlesque show, first performed at the Great Salt Lake Fringe Festival, shared a message about what Cam called the “ridiculous nature of gender."
Cam said they believe visual messages can make a difference to the queer community. “I never regret coming out as nonbinary,” they said. “How can you regret your truth?”
Editor’s note • If you or people you know are at risk of self-harm, the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline provides 24-hour support by dialing 988, or 1-800-273-8255.
Jonnathan Yi 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. Jonnathan Yi wrote this story as a journalism student at Salt Lake Community College. For more stories from Amplify Utah, visit amplifyutah.org/use-our-work.
It was a big moment for Salt Lake Community College when Dr. Lea Lani Kinikini stepped into the institution’s first-ever chief diversity officer role. Now two years in, Kinikini says she works for justice, equity, diversity and inclusion at the college and in her community nearly every day.
“My office is an incubator for inclusion,” she said. “We’re constantly piloting, learning, and building as we go.”
Kinikini joined SLCC in August 2019. She has since co-launched or co-founded the Utah Reintegration Project, the Office for Justice, Equity, Diversity and Inclusion for Social Transformation (JEDI4ST), and is directing the Juvenile Justice Nest Pilot program.
Kinikini received her bachelor’s from the University of Utah and came to SLCC after working overseas, where she completed her doctorate from the University of Auckland, New Zealand. She received her master’s degree from the University of Hawaii.
Her role as chief diversity officer is to increase inclusivity throughout the college and to encourage new ways of thinking.
“Its purpose is to collaborate with the president and the cabinet to introduce new ways of thinking, helping to identify what our strengths and weaknesses are, and where we need to put our resources and where we need to change in order to rebuild the system to be more inclusive and equitable,” Kinikini said.
SLCC President Deneece Huftalin says what Kinikini brings to the college is unique.
“Dr. Kinikini brings a wealth of experience in the academic world and in qualitative and action research methodologies,” she said. “She brings her experience with community building to this position. She brings an innovative eye to our outreach efforts and has already begun strengthening the transition to college efforts and outcomes.”
In March 2020, Kinikini founded the Equity, Diversity and Inclusion for Community Transformation Center, followed by the Justice, Equity, Diversity and Inclusion for Social Transformation, or “JEDI hub,” in the fall of 2020.
As co-founder of the Utah Reintegration Project, Kinikini helps previously incarcerated people reintegrate into mainstream society. The program was founded in December 2019 with Dr. Anthony Nocella, assistant professor of criminal justice and criminology.
“[Kinkini] is a powerful intellectual and creator of social transformation,” Norcella said. “She understands that reflection, accountability and dialogue are critical in creating change. Her job is extremely difficult as she must on one hand promote and provide a space for marginalized voices, and on the other hand address injustices and inequities throughout the campus.”
The Utah Reintegration Project, incubated by Kinikini and Nocella, also has a justice internship program with several paid, student leader positions.
“I have a great team that supports all this work,” Kinikini said. “In fact, many of them – the JEDI4ST team – brought the projects. I just give them a home, incubate it and see if it can fit somewhere in the college or the community.”
Kinikini said she hopes the project can act as a transitional tool for incarcerated individuals who have taken part in the prison education program at SLCC.
“There are many employees that have various convictions from misdemeanors to felonies, but the United States is a society that is founded on second chances, so the community college is really building that out,” she said.
The prison education program at SLCC has become one of the largest in-person prison education programs in the country, serving more than 600 students since its inception in 2017.
This past summer, 100 laptops arrived at the Draper prison which will allow students to study from their cells, type papers, access educational resources and contact their professors, said Dr. David Bokovoy, director of prison education.
Nocella, who is co-chair of the Utah Reintegration Project, noted that it’s important to give fair treatment to students at SLCC who took place in the prison education program.
“We must treat them as students, while acknowledging their story, but not letting their story define them,” he said. “We as staff, administrators and faculty must listen and learn from those students. One might be surprised to find out how many SLCC students have been … incarcerated as we begin to destigmatize that experience.”
The Utah Reintegration Project is working to create a class for previously incarcerated students.
“It would have workshops that could be stackable into a one-credit course that would help students navigate college and life skills,” Kinikini said.
She also hopes the college will support the creation of a transition coordinator role in next year’s budget. The person would work with students who took part in the SLCC prison education program so they may transition from prison to college.
Andrew Christiansen 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. Andrew Christiansen wrote this story as a journalism student at Salt Lake Community College. For more stories from Amplify Utah, visit amplifyutah.org/use-our-work.
Dispersed throughout the Peace and Justice Garden stand various relics designed to represent and foster tranquility at Salt Lake Community College.
As water flows through a cement channel in the garden, located on the college’s South City Campus at 1535 S. Edison St. in Salt Lake City, the SLCC community can discover a haven that features five four-sided peace posts with a hopeful message, six statues of prominent women in history, a mural and a large volumetric metal work.
The statues took a year to complete and were installed in June, thanks to an anonymous donor. The statues were made by Stan Watts and Tami Brooks of Atlas Bronze Casting.
“I love reading biographies. There are so many women in our history,” said Brooks, who developed her talents in oil painting and drawing before switching to sculpture. “When you get an inspiration, you have to be passionate about it.”
The women depicted are: Abolitionist Harriet Tubman, aviator Amelia Earhart, journalist and activist Ida B. Wells-Barnett, educator Helen Keller, civil-rights activist Rosa Parks, and Sacagawea, who accompanied the Lewis & Clark expedition through the West.
Several of the women depicted persevered against all odds to develop their capabilities and skills. While discussing the inspiration behind these women, Brooks explained how their stories possess a mythological feel.
“There are these women — in spite of everything going against them, with no privilege — everything was pushing them away from developing their gifts or talents. If I had to come up with a logo, it would be the phoenix,” Brooks said. “Everything was against them, burned down to the ground, and they come back and make themselves. It’s so inspirational …
“Today, we think, ‘Oh, we’re having such a hard day’ and it’s nothing compared to a hard day for a Black woman between the time period of the Civil War into civil rights. These women created and did amazing things. They had so much grit,” Brooks continued.
Using textbooks to get accurate measurements and proportions for body parts, Watts and Brooks created drafts freehand and shared ideas based on what each other sees in the photos they have printed.
“We print off a ton of pictures of every angle we can get. We zoom in. It’s drawing in 3D. We measure a lot. We have a book, ‘Human Proportions for Artists’ by Avard Fairbanks. He did all the measuring of human anatomy,” Brooks said.
Brooks made an analogy of a photo to a painting when describing the difference between a photo and a statue.
“If [a subject] is computer-generated or a mold, you put on a wax figure. There is something uncanny about it. It just feels weird. It feels more like a doll,” Brooks said. “I’ve seen sculptures in parks, and you can tell they just put a wax figure in an outfit and poured a mold over it. And the fabric looks kind of wet. It doesn’t have that feeling of art like an impressionist painting versus a photo. They are different media.”
Watts, who has been making bronze monuments and statues for almost half a century, serves as the chronicler and is a perfectionist for ensuring they get the history correct.
“I’m a stickler for that. You’re not really doing just the statue, you’re also recording history in terms of a period of time and what they are wearing,” he said.
James Walton, the college’s gallery and art collection specialist, said SLCC hopes to have plaques describing the statues fabricated and installed.
Yamileth Rivera, a freshman videography student, said she visits the garden to study. The area, she said, provides a pleasant retreat where she can unwind and relax.
“I just like being out here. It’s really peaceful,” Rivera said. “I like hearing the water and having all the trees around here. It’s a nature moment. Just to get away. I think it is really nice to be out here and take a breather.”
A plaque located in the garden summarizes the goal of the Peace and Justice Garden: “A peaceful space for art, justice, civil dialogue and community healing.”
Teresa Chaikowsky 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. Teresa Chaikowsky wrote this story as a journalism student at Salt Lake Community College. For more stories from Amplify Utah, visit amplifyutah.org/use-our-work.
