I remember clutching my Rugrats backpack as I approached the playground on my first day of kindergarten at Hayden Peak Elementary.
My mom had wrestled my cowlicks down with a mountain of gel. One of the girls in my class touched my hair and said it felt like concrete. There’s something so nerve-wracking yet exciting about the first day of school — wondering what you’ll learn, if you can make it on your own and whether you’ll fit in.
School is often our first consistent contact with the world outside of home; the first place where your understanding of how things work is challenged.
It’s where you see what people who are different than you value and learn about what challenges impact their lives.
Moving into K-12 education reporting feels a little like walking onto that squishy rubber playground for the first time, though I no longer use as much hair gel.
There are many passionate people who participate in Utah’s education community; we want nothing more than to set our kids up for success. It’s a daunting responsibility to document it. But I’m excited.
My first experience with reporting on education came while I was interviewing former Southern Utah University President Scott Wyatt while I studied there. The pandemic had just begun and I was grilling him with questions about how SUU would keep students safe.
Wyatt, who had just run an ultra-marathon to raise money for a day care center on campus, repeated his mantra to me: “No one became strong by living a life of ease.”
Utah’s children are not living a life of ease right now. They’re juggling the identity crises that come with coming of age, all during a once-in-a-generation pandemic, in a world where just about everything they do is archived on social media.
They face a climate crisis and record levels of wealth disparity in a country that’s brimming with political tension.
I joined The Salt Lake Tribune because I love this community. Utah is the only home I know. I want to carry that love with me in my reporting. To me, that means challenging what we’ve done before to build a more inclusive, empathetic home for all of Utah’s children. It means looking in the mirror, acknowledging our flaws and committing to being better, even when we stumble along the way.
I’ve seen how this newspaper has sparked new conversations at my family’s dinner table. It’s an honor to be a part of a team that holds leaders accountable and prioritizes the perspectives of marginalized communities.
I’m still trying to comb my cowlicks into place, and I’m still wondering about my place in the world. But I’m glad to be at The Tribune. I hope I can bring new conversations to your home, too.
