Salt Lake Community College is stayng focused on its commitment to sustainability efforts with renewable energy, transportation, and water conservation.

Among some of the more visible efforts are the solar panels installed across campuses. Clint Gardner, co-chair of the SLCC Sustainability Committee, highlighted current installations.

“We have several,” Gardner said. “There’s a parking structure [at Redwood] by the [Academic and Administration Building] that has solar panels on it."

Garder said there is also a larger parking structure at Jordan Campus.

“I believe there are solar panels on top of the science building, that’s an industry building here at the Redwood campus,” Gardner added.

According to Gardner, plans for additional solar parking structure panels are planned for the Redwood Campus and Jordan Campus, as well as other campuses.

Jacob Toone, a solar panel designer from Intermountain Wind and Solar, emphasized the improvements in solar panel technology.

“Wattage per square foot of solar panels has almost doubled in recent years,” Toone said. “A similar-sized panel that once produced 300 watts now generates closer to 590 watts, making solar energy more cost-effective without increasing installation costs.”

Transportation services

To help cut pollution, SLCC provides free UTA transportation passes to all active students, faculty and staff, enabling access to buses, TRAX, and FrontRunner.

According to SLCC’s sustainability plan, the school supports electric vehicle (EV) users by offering 19 EV charging stations across campuses and plans for more. These stations have already prevented over 26,000 kilograms of greenhouse gas emissions — the equivalent of planting 667 trees.

As part of its sustainability efforts, SLCC has installed EV charging stations at several campuses, including South City Campus, pictured. (Courtesy of ChargePoint)

What do students think?

Belen Leon, a general studies major, has a positive outlook on the SLCC initiatives.

“I love the idea of solar panels. It’s a great idea,” Leon said. “The cost of power is much lower afterward. It helps with climate change, and I think that’s great.”

However, not everyone shared the same sentiment regarding schools shouldering the burden of reducing emissions.

“I think it’s everyone’s responsibility to try and minimize their own carbon footprint, so I don’t think it [should be] required for schools,” said Keegan Stout, a journalism and digital media major.

Sustainable landscaping and water use

Water conservation is another priority at the college. The Redwood Campus uses a WeatherTrac system to adjust irrigation based on real-time weather data. Xeriscaping projects, which require minimal water, are in progress across SLCC properties, according to SLCC’s sustainability plan.

Through these efforts, SLCC aims to lead by example in reducing its environmental impact. With continued plans for renewable energy, sustainable transportation, and efficient water use, the college encourages the community to participate in building a greener future.

Nearly every day during the fall semester, collegiate runners tightened their laces for morning runs in the shadow of the mountains that span the Wasatch Front. As the Salt Lake valley’s inversions bring thick smog, some college athletes said they have been forced to train indoors or breathe in toxic air that threatens their respiratory health.

Ty Davis, a track and cross-country runner for Weber State University, said the unpredictable air quality has become a regular topic of training discussion.

“Almost every day before our runs, our coaches and even some of my teammates … talk about the air quality and decide if we are going to — or if we should — move our practice indoors,” Davis said. “It has become a normal thing to take some kind of precaution with the air quality.”

For Davis and other Utah residents, the state’s natural beauty is often overshadowed by the Great Salt Lake’s shrinking footprint, stirring up dust that adds to the Wasatch Front’s worsening air quality.

Utah’s deteriorating air quality, exacerbated by the drying lake, poses risks to the respiratory health of collegiate track and cross-country athletes. Researchers and medical experts warn that exposure to fine particulate matter and harmful pollutants can hinder lung function and long-term endurance. As the lakebed continues to expose more dust that’s laden with arsenic and metals, the health stakes rise, raising questions and concern from collegiate athletes about the future of outdoor running in the region.

(Kurt Ward) Ty Davis leads his Weber State University teammates in a cross-country race at the Riverside Golf Course in Pocatello, Idaho.

An invisible enemy

For collegiate track and cross-country teams in Utah, these challenges have turned air quality into a year-round consideration. Coaches and athletes must balance the need to build endurance and strength with the realities of fluctuating air pollution levels, sometimes moving to indoor facilities or scheduling practices during times of lower pollution. However, these adaptations can only go so far, leaving many athletes to face the cumulative effects of training in compromised environments.

“There are definitely days when I notice the smog and air quality, especially since we run on the Bonneville Shoreline Trail,” Davis said of the path from North Salt Lake to Parleys Canyon. Davis is in the engineering program at Weber State, he said, so “I am also aware of the arsenic and other particles from the Great Salt Lake.”

Sprinter Nick Pembroke said he has trained from the green hills near Utah State University in Logan to the red rocks of Cedar City — and has noticed the air quality in northern Utah sends him indoors to train more frequently. Pembroke, a senior at Southern Utah University, also attended USU for several semesters, and said the air quality in Cache and Salt Lake counties seems to be worse than what he experienced in Iron County.

“I definitely am able to tell the difference on how it affects my breathing,” he said. “If it’s bad, … then I notice my lungs feel heavy, and I don’t do as many reps because I tire quicker.”

Sprinter Nick Pembroke said he has trained from the green hills near Utah State University in Logan to the red rocks of Cedar City — and has noticed the air quality in northern Utah sends him indoors to train more frequently. Pembroke, a senior at Southern Utah University, also attended USU for several semesters, and said the air quality in Cache and Salt Lake counties seems to be worse than what he experienced in Iron County.

“I definitely am able to tell the difference on how it affects my breathing,” he said. “If it’s bad, … then I notice my lungs feel heavy, and I don’t do as many reps because I tire quicker.”

(Nick Pembroke) Nick Pembroke, a sprinter at Southern Utah University, sets himself in the starting block for the 4x400m at the Aztec Invitational in San Diego, California, in March 2024.

Dust from the lake

Kerry Kelly, associate professor in chemical engineering at the University of Utah, measured these particles to try to answer some of these questions. Kelly was lead author in a study published in November in the journal Atmospheric Environment, in which researchers found high levels of reactivity and bioaccessiblity (how well a substance is absorbed into the body) in comparison to other sediments from spots around Utah. There was a noticeably higher level of manganese, iron, copper and lead.

“Lead is a concern for developmental reasons,” Kelly said. “Manganese, iron and copper — these are transition metals and are known to be very irritating to your lungs. Once you get irritation, that can lead to this whole inflammatory response … and its adverse health effects, like asthma.”

Other research shows air quality significantly damages runners’ respiratory health and performance. Pollutants like ozone, particulate matter, nitrogen dioxide and carbon monoxide are particularly harmful during exercise, as deeper and more frequent breathing allows these pollutants to bypass natural nasal filtration and reach the lungs directly, according to researchers at the University of Birmingham and the Canal and Rivers Trust.

Kevin Perry, an atmospheric scientist at the University of Utah, said more exposed lakebed at Great Salt Lake also leads to more dust storms. Utahns living along the Wasatch Front and near the lake’s shoreline, he said, tend to experience, on average, four to five dust storms a year.

(BYU Media) Elyse Jessen, a middle-distance runner for Brigham Young University.

Battling ‘track hack’Elyse Jessen, a middle-distance runner for Brigham Young University, said she is more familiar with visible air quality issues, such as polluted winter inversions and smoke from summer wildfires, but was unaware of the challenges facing Great Salt Lake.

“Whenever we are pulled inside for training at BYU, I am always under the understanding that’s it is only due to [the] temperature or if it’s snowing,” said Jessen, “Obviously, there are days when I go outside, and I can see smog in the air, but I have never had conversations with my teammates or my coaches concern about air quality.”

Jessen added that she sometimes experiences “track hack,” a term runners use for throat irritation after intense training. It’s medically known as exercise-induced bronchostriction, or EBI. The American College of Allergy, Asthma and Immunology notes “track hack” is a common condition among competitive and elite athletes — a side effect of breathing in dry or polluted air during periods of exertion.

“I have been running since I was 15, but I don’t think I have personally experienced any health issues from the air quality,” she said. “I don’t have asthma, and the only time I really have issues breathing are after really hard workouts or when it’s scorching hot outside.”

Now, Jessen said, she is starting to understand how environmental factors unique to northern Utah can affect her training and performance and plans to research mitigation strategies.

“I never knew that I was breathing in so many harmful things in the air,” she said. “But now I want to learn more about how to adapt for my health and performance.”

Gabe Haymore wrote this story as a journalism student at the University of Utah. It is published as part of a collaborative including nonprofits Amplify Utah and The Salt Lake Tribune. Haymore’s class partnered with the Great Salt Lake Collaborative, a solutions journalism initiative that partners news, education and media organizations to help inform people about the plight of the Great Salt Lake — and what can be done to make a difference before it is too late. Read all of the collaborative’s stories at greatsaltlakenews.org.

###

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 [Your Media Organization's Name] to elevate diverse perspectives in local media through emerging journalism. Grabe Haymore wrote this story as a journalism student at the University of Utah. For more stories from Amplify Utah, visit amplifyutah.org/use-our-work.

Wearing a dark red shirt, Joshua Dixon sits in a tall grass field, singing a traditional Diné song. The song ends, and Dixon, a member of Utah’s Navajo Nation, looks to the camera and explains the deep connection many Native people have to the land. When they came into this world, he said, they understood they were part of the system.

“That’s what they mean by ‘Tó éí ííńá át'é,’” he said in the opening scene of a new documentary. “Water is our life.”

“The Illusion of Abundance,” premieres April 30 at Westminster University with the Great Salt Lake Institute. A Brolly Arts film, the documentary short combines the art forms of dance, music and poetry to bring attention to Great Salt Lake and its rapid demise.

Amy McDonald, director and founder of Brolly Arts, said the film was inspired by a narrative piece by local artist Sophia Cutubrus in 2022. Her written piece explores the plight of Great Salt Lake through its history as the “West’s Coney Island,” the tributaries that flow into it and the science behind the drying lake.

The film originally opened with a group of modern dancers on the shores of the drying lake, McDonald said, but after seeing an early cut, she knew they needed to rethink the approach.

“We realized to complete the picture … we really have to include the Indigenous voice to go along with this narrative so that we get the holistic viewpoint,” she said.

Throughout the documentary, filmmakers weave in perspectives from members of Diné (Navajo), Tewa (Hopi), Confederated Tribes of the Goshute Nation, the Northwestern Band of the Shoshone Nation and Northern Utes from the Uintah Band and Uncompahgre Band.

The new opening scene centers on Dixon to illustrate the deep relationship between Indigenous people and the land as a link to the current reality surrounding Great Salt Lake, which filmmakers strived to connect through culture and art.

“I chose a really simple Navajo song, but it does carry a lot of meaning behind it,” Dixon told the Great Salt Lake Collaborative. “[It] showcases the way the Navajo community and many other Indigenous communities felt that connection to the land.”

Connecting water to art

In September of 2022, Sofia Gorder, choreographer and Brolly Art’s director of program development, created a dance to go along with Cutubrus’ spoken narrative to bring awareness of the crisis at the lake and use of water in Utah through different art forms. Brolly called the project “Evaporation: What Does It Take To Leave Enough Water For Great Salt Lake” and began to perform it at lake-related events.

Watching the dance performed for audiences at the Great Salt Lake Symposium and at Alta Ski Resort, from where water eventually flows to the Jordan River and Great Salt Lake, McDonald said she realized the message should be broadened through a documentary film.

“We have to touch hearts, as well as minds and [make] people care, then people are more likely to engage and take action, particularly when they understand that their actions will have impact,” she said.

In her choreography, Gorder said she tapped into feminism and Afro-feminism because conversations between the largely female dancers often centered on personal experiences of exploitation — much like Great Salt Lake has experienced.

“There was just this adjacent kind of conversation that felt almost exactly the same,” she said, “like this cultural and biological development around women holding space for healing and all of the ecosystems … while it's being exploited and taken from."

Ursula Perry dances near Great Salt Lake for the film, ‘The Illusion of Abundance.’ (Photo Alex Lee | Brolly Arts).

Gorder said after she finished choreographing her piece and before the film process had begun, she found herself wondering, like McDonald had, whether it would be relevant or make an impact.

“Who wants to watch modern dance, a predominantly white cast of modern dancers, talk about the plight of the lake?” she said. “It felt vapid, even though it was artistically pretty solid.”

Gorder said she had to ask herself what makes this film an important one. She realized, she said, the original approach was too limiting to individual experiences when everyone living in the Salt Lake Valley is part of a larger ecosystem.

“[Many Utah Natives] have incredible language and knowledge systems that explain all of this,” she said. “And so we knew we wanted to shift the film to learn from Indigenous folks and their voice.”

An equal being

Gorder reached out to Jessica Wiarda, a Hopi artist and fashion designer, to work as a liaison with filmmakers throughout the process. Wiarda said she then began connecting with and inviting other Indigenous people to share their knowledge and participate in the film.

“A lot of what's been missing in the Great Salt Lake movement is just Native voices being elevated,” Wiarda said.

While the film’s creators showed a commitment to honoring and accurately reflecting Indigenous voices, Wiarda said natural challenges can come about when bringing together different sensibilities and approaches. For example, she said, many Indigenous people like to take their time to sit with things, like listening to an idea five or six times before committing to it.

“There's a lot of approvals that need to go through [with] such a marginalized group like Indigenous people,” Wiarda said. “We’re often told we're elevated but then we don't get invited to the party afterward – we don't get invited to the table. We're just put as an afterthought.”

Wiarda said another challenge was a disconnect of cultural ideas. Non-Indigenous people, she said, seem to look at the lake as something that needs saving because of what it provides to the environment and the state’s residents.

“Indigenous knowledge is, ‘No, the lake is your equal being. It's equal to you,’” she said. “You're not just taking from [it], and a lot of our Indigenous voices in that film talk about that.”

Throughout the filming process, Dixon said the Native people involved had a lot to say, and Wiarda pushed for the perspective of Indigenous people’s connection to the environment to be shown.

“It's not some dreamy wishy-washy thing,” he said. “It is a very real, concrete connection we have to the land, and we have a concern over the land that is genuine.”

McDonald said filmmakers were committed to building relationships with the Indigenous people sharing their knowledge and voices for the film. They didn’t want to unintentionally disregard cultural beliefs but create a space where knowledge could be shared with the purpose of educating, she said. Those perspectives, she said, helped them learn and grow.

“It's not surprising that there’s not a lot of trust of white people for all the harm that's been done,” she said. “[It’s] a fine line for a relationship because everybody needs to feel respected and honored and make sure that every voice is heard.”

Gorder said she also hopes the film – and the process of making it – encourages people to ask questions and begin to understand the many ways conversations and advocacy are forming around the lake.

“There are some conflicts there — certainly a lot of the Native elders [ask], ‘Why are they doing weird modern dance? Why are white people dancing about Indigenous issues?’” she said. “It brings up some good questions about … whose voice is important and how do we integrate them?”

Dixon said, overall, he thinks the film is a step in the right direction toward including Indigenous representation, but it will always be challenging to get a genuine representation of Native people.

“The main issue with trying to capture a genuine portrayal of Native people is that … it's going to be put through [the filmmakers’] lens –- what they would like to capture and what they would like to portray us as,” he said. “That's just the nature of human beings. Unless we have experience with something first hand, we really don't know.”

Wiarda said it’s a good turning point for the Great Salt Lake movement to start working to understand, respect and include Indigenous voices, despite it being a slow and meticulous process.

“Conversation[s] started that people were kind of afraid to have,” she said. “[The filmmakers] did a really good job of melding the two voices — that we both exist in Salt Lake."

***

Attend the premiere

“An Illusion of Abundance” premieres April 30, 6:30-8:30 p.m., at Westminster University’s Jones Recital Hall (1840 S. 1300 East, Salt Lake City). The free screening will be followed by a discussion with the film’s creators and experts on the Great Salt Lake Basin. Click here to RSVP.

***

Vanessa Hudson, a student at the University of Utah, wrote this story as part of a College of Humanities journalism course in partnership with the Great Salt Lake Collaborative and Amplify Utah. The collaborative is a solutions journalism initiative that partners news, education and media organizations to help inform people about the plight of the Great Salt Lake – and what can be done to make a difference before it is too late. Read all of our stories at greatsaltlakenews.org.