A Provo LGBTQ+ resource center might close. Here’s why.

Utah drag queen Tara Lipsyncki would rather be planning a celebration for the first anniversary of the nonprofit she started and the opening of its Provo bookstore and community center, Mosaics.

Instead, she is asking for the community to help save the venue.

If Mosaics disappears, it would leave a politically and religiously conservative part of the Beehive State with even fewer safe gathering spaces for LGBTQ+ Utahns than it already has.

Utah County is home to youth resource center Encircle Provo and other resource organizations like the Out Foundation, PFLAG Provo/Utah County, QueerMeals and Genderbands. There are also several therapy clinics, like Celebrate Therapy and Flourish Therapy, and resources at Utah Valley University.

But there are few places specifically built to welcome LGBTQ+ Utahns.

The nonprofit Lipsyncki started, United Drag Alliance, received its official status as a charity in January. Her vision was to find a place that could be a bookstore, gathering spot and office for the nonprofit during the day, with an area that could be rented to host local bands and other events.

She remembers the first time she entered the space where Mosaics is located, just a five-minute drive from a cornerstone of Brigham Young University’s campus — Lavell Edwards Stadium. “I walked in and I was like, ‘OK, this actually can work for what I originally envisioned it to be,’” she said.

“When I decided to leave Salt Lake County and that we were going to focus on Utah County,” Lipsyncki added, “I made the very conscious decision that I wanted to be as close as I could to the universities, since that’s the demographic that needs the help the most.”

Finding the location — and getting the venue running — was a “very affirming feeling,” said Lipsyncki, who, in recent years has become a champion for drag in Utah. In the past year, her events have been protested by armed members of the far-right Proud Boys, subjected to bomb threats and protected by armed supporters.

The United Drag Alliance and Mosaics have raised enough money through a fundraiser — nearly $53,000 — to stay afloat to the end of 2024, but Lipsyncki is seeking additional support of $200,000 to cover a year’s worth of operating costs.

People can continue to donate through UnitedDragAlliance.org or by purchasing merchandise at MosaicsUtah.com, she said.

Finding an audience

At Mosaics, books retail at a suggested $4 each, but the store has a pay-what-you-can model. There are queer history-themed earrings from Utah creator Violets for Louise, stickers and pride-themed merchandise for sale.

A blackboard advertises the week’s social events. There’s also a free food pantry. An adjacent event space features pride flags of all shades and identities. A suggestion box sits on a table at the front of the store with the saying, “Mosaics is for you, so make your voice heard.”

“Mosaics really is a space that was always intended to be for everyone to come and make it your own,” Lipsyncki said. “It is a blank canvas that you can put your group in.”

After her 2023 encounter with the Proud Boys, she said, she “came up [with] the idea of using drag as a protective form of protest and also get resources.” That led to her creation of the United Drag Alliance.

But the nonprofit’s center has had a hard time finding a specific audience, Lipsyncki said. “When I tried to create a space that helped everyone, I helped no one.”

Some members of UDA’s original board have left, Lipsyncki said. She is board president, with secretary Tyler Farr, treasurer Robby Gutierrez and four other board members.

The store’s financial shortfall happened for a few reasons, according to Lipsyncki. For one, she said she counted on help from people who offered early support but then lost interest, or “they over promise, under deliver.”

Lipsyncki also thinks people are hesitant to come to Mosaics because, as she describes herself, she is a “polarizing” figure. She has been outspoken about feeling that Salt Lake City LGBTQ organizations did not support her when she was faced with threats, especially after Mosaics received a second bomb threat in July.

The predicament of Provo

Lipsyncki said she also believes a “mental block” keeps people in other counties from driving to Provo to shop or gather in deeply conservative Utah County.

“There is that oppressiveness down here that people don’t want to come into,” Lipsyncki said, adding that she suspects that feeling can also keeps residents from seeking resources in Utah County.

Queer Utahns, Lipsyncki said, “shouldn’t have to just go to Salt Lake City to have a resource.”

Sarah Vorkink, who is originally from Missouri, grew up as a member of the The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and moved to Provo to attend college at BYU.

“I didn’t realize that [I was queer] fully until I was already at BYU,” Vorkink said. “Finding a place like Mosaics [and] that community is so important because growing up, I hadn’t even been able to explore that part of myself.”

Vorkink first visited Mosaics in August after learning of an event going on there via Instagram. She didn’t know ahead of time that Mosaics was a queer bookstore, and said she recalls feeling “incredible” when she walked in and saw pride flags.

“The second I stepped in the doors, I just knew it was safe,” Vorkink said. “[It’s] amazing to know that there’s a place that I could go if I ever needed to feel validated in my identity, to feel like I could show up exactly how I am.”

Vorkink calls Mosaics a “sanctuary” in Utah County. “It’s more than just books [and] buying things. It’s knowing that there’s a place for you in a community and in a city that can feel so isolating,” she said.

Others in comment sections of social media posts about Mosaic’s possible closure voiced concern. One user said losing Mosaics would be a “tragedy,” while others shared sentiments that Utah County needs the venue.

Lipsyncki, who sold her childhood home to move for safety reasons after her address became more widely known, also said the past few years have taken a toll on her health. That has contributed to her not being able to help at Mosaics as much as usual, she said

She has leaned on employees like Sadie Croker, who facilitates programming at the center. Croker said Mosaics is not about the employees, the programming or even the space itself.

“It’s about the people who live here and the love and the suffering that is already there,” Croker said. ”…We’re really lucky to have the opportunity to be in a position where we can meet, facilitate and cultivate that.”