In 2015, LGBTQ advocates and leadership of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints worked behind the scenes to craft the now-historic SB296, which provided protections for LGBTQ Utahns in housing and employment. It was heralded as a model for the nation by many on Capitol Hill, despite the broad religious exemptions and the glaring lack of protections in public accommodations.
Some of our lawmakers would argue that this historic bill was an example of the Utah Way in action. In fact, Gov. Spencer Cox has even said that the Utah Way “involves intense collaboration, real selflessness and a desire to find actual solutions as opposed to cheap political victories.” Others in our state, from both sides of the aisle, have echoed similar sentiments about how Utah is exceptional in our nation.
This Friday, the Utah Legislature will hold a special session in an attempt to override Cox’s veto of HB11, the bill that bans transgender females from participating in women’s sports in Utah public schools. The governor has begged lawmakers to consider how implementing this bill as written will almost assuredly end in a lawsuit and deeply hurt our transgender youth. Nevertheless, the Republican leadership believes that they have the votes to override the veto. With county conventions this upcoming weekend and many legislators facing challenges from the right, lawmakers are looking to neutralize this point to maintain their seats on Capitol Hill.
In 2015, I had a glimmer of hope for our state. LGBTQ+ people like me could come out and not worry about losing their jobs. I thought, naively, that the Utah Way was a noble call to compromise. The Utah Way, I told myself, would help us aspire to live up to lofty principles.
In 2022, I see the Utah Way as nothing more than a trite misrepresentation of how Utah politics operates. The members of the Legislature have chosen to use vulnerable transgender children to shore up their reelection chances. They would risk real suffering from these children to make sure that they secure another term.
The Utah Way is clearer to me now. It’s about our Republican supermajority maintaining power, fighting culture wars unless they are backed into a corner (as they were in 2015 by the legalization of same-sex marriage in Utah), and feigning collaboration while they bulldoze the rights of the most vulnerable among us.
Our transgender youth are watching. They wonder why they must be the hot-button issue of our state in 2022. These young people, particularly the handful of transgender athletes in our state, deserve kindness, love and support, not further marginalization.
On March 4, 2022, the last day of the legislative session, Sen. Derek Kitchen decried the last-minute substitution for HB11, declaring, “This is not the Utah Way. This is exactly the opposite of the Utah Way.”
Sadly, at this point I must disagree. This is the Utah Way. It has always been the Utah Way. But it doesn’t have to be this way forever. Republican legislators: Don’t let this bill be your legacy. Prove me wrong about the Utah Way.
Jacob Newman
Jacob Newman was born and raised in Millcreek and lives there how with his husband of nearly six years.
