Utah has changed in the last few decades. That’s no secret. But at 36 years old, I feel I have witnessed more like 12 decades worth of transformation in my home state, especially when looking at the population surge.
This is not a xenophobic rant. Utah has culturally grown thanks in many parts to this influx of fresh ideas. However, we need these new voices to be more politically engaged.
Framed by pithy social media posts and the dreamy romance of van life, long trail days and mid-sized cities with breweries, shops and jobs, Utah — a once best-kept-secret — is officially out of the bag.
Utah County’s Eagle Mountain is a prime example, registering a population jump from 22,000 to 61,000 in just 14 years. Traffic along the Wasatch Front runs slow and dense. Ski resorts are choking. Housing lags demand. Hiking and biking trails buzz like never before. Simply put: A lot of new folks have shown up.
This population boom presents an exciting opportunity.
I want to gently remind our new friends that the Beehive State is not an amusement park. Please don’t just buy a couple of year-long tickets, enjoy the party and leave. We don’t need wallflowers marveling at our backwards, quality-of-life-threatening politics. We need agents for change, even if those agents are only passing through for a few years.
So, to preserve, strengthen and improve the health of this spectacular place, maybe the price of admission is meaningful civic participation.
If all the state’s newcomers are able and willing to engage in local and national politics, we can cool our red-hot state to a calmer, purple microcosm of compromise and balance. With more diverse voting and action, we could see endless construction checked and balanced by consideration of an ecosystem in peril. We could see a place where marginalized people enjoy genuine representation instead of gerrymandered silence. Where air quality is met with urgent and effective response. Where a group of narrow-minded leaders cannot blatantly decide what kind of books and ideas a child has access to. Where a precious, dwindling lake might be prioritized.
So, if you have just moved to Utah, excited about a state bursting with opportunity and outdoor recreation, you are more than welcome! But please, please, please bring your votes: vote.utah.gov.
(Josh Wennergren ) Josh Wennergren lives, writes and teaches in his hometown of Salt Lake City.
Josh Wennergren lives, writes and teaches in his hometown of Salt Lake City. When he’s not writing, he’s off running mountain trails or camping with friends.
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