Utah Business

Designing a company culture: Tips from Utah’s people and culture experts

Mickey Jacobs — Fri, 20 Oct 2023 20:25:39 +0000

Photo courtesy of Sara Jones

This article features hand-picked people & culture experts who will present at Utah Business Forward. With five distinct tracks covering entrepreneurship, international business, marketing, people & culture and strategy, this dynamic event will be hosted on November 16, 2023, at the Grand America Hotel in Salt Lake City. Click here to learn more about the event.

When it comes to modern business, success is no longer solely defined by financial metrics and market dominance. Instead, a thriving organization’s heart lies in its people and culture. But what truly fosters this vital aspect of a company’s identity? Is it the ping-pong tables and snack bars, or does the secret run deeper? Utah’s people and culture experts have unraveled the enigma of culture creation, delving into the intricacies of community building, leadership’s pivotal role, purposeful culture design and expanding hiring pools.

Create community-building opportunities

Jennifer Sorensen, an organizational development architect at Jirah Partners, says, “What’s fascinating to me is that it seems to be less about the snacks and more about what happens when you go to get the snack—the conversations you have with people along the way to get them. It’s about being a part of something. It’s about creating a community at work.”

While free snacks won’t solve a company’s culture problems, recreational areas do provide community spaces where employees can chat and bond. As interpersonal relationships develop, the culture of a company is created. Sorensen gives the example of debriefing with coworkers after a big meeting. When a leader makes a presentation and delivers an important message, employees need time and space to process what was said and what it means to them.

“They’ll have ‘watercooler’ talks with those around them, which is why building that strong, supportive environment is so important. We need the space to work through it,” Sorensen explains.

She goes on to point out that, “Companies tend to focus on the things that are ‘visible’: the office environment, the benefits, the dress code. But so much of what truly builds a culture is what’s unseen or ‘underneath.’ This is what really builds a culture.” While companies cannot force relationships among employees, it is possible to facilitate them. Snacks become the easy first step toward success.

Leadership culture trickles down

Gabb Wireless CEO Nate Randle is one of Silicon Slopes’ most popular LinkedIn contributors and not your typical tech guru on the platform. His posts are less about anything to do with technology and everything to do with people. He uses his network to facilitate help and employment for others instead of spouting off career advice. It is exactly this personality that has helped Randle build a successful culture at Gabb Wireless.

Colin Cole, Gabb’s VP of product says, “It starts at the top, and Nate sets the tone for us. We interact with our people because of the way Nate interacts with us. When you’re with Nate, you have his full attention, and he really listens.”

The Gabb offices definitely have a community feel, too. Coworkers greet each other as old friends, and everyone gets involved to support upcoming projects and efforts. Randle is the heart of it all but still understands the importance of each individual voice, actively involving his executive team in building the company’s culture.

Gabb’s culture pointedly features honesty and transparency. The team has seen that candor from senior leadership results in the same approach throughout the organization and tighter bonds within the company. While challenging at times, upholding these values has always been worth it.

“In the last year, we saw what was going on in the economy, and Nate was very transparent with the company,” says Russ Hannig, VP of growth marketing. “He told employees how we really didn’t want to do layoffs; … he laid everything out and told them, ‘Here’s how we’re going to try to do this.’ He shared with employees there were no guarantees, but this is our goal, and asked everyone for input.”

Jennifer Sorensen | Nate Randle, Photo by Ori Media

Through their honesty and transparency, Randle and his team showed trust while empowering employees to speak up and be part of the solution. Each employee worked to find new ways to cut costs while still delivering value to the company. While many tech companies went through layoffs, Gabb built a culture of greater trust by being transparent and putting employees and their families first.

“It’s impossible to have a safe tech company for kids that doesn’t have a feeling of a safe environment,” Randle says. “You can’t tout protecting kids and families, and then, when it gets really hard, get rid of families.”

Randle says his leadership style can shock people. “We bring them in and let them go figure things out without being in their kitchen trying to tell them what to do,” he says. “I just let them find the best solutions with their team, and we celebrate the moments that matter to the team.”

“Culture by design, not default”

Sydne Jacques, CEO of Next Level Leadership, couldn’t agree more. “If you want to keep your employees and have high retention rates, you need good leadership. You need to create your culture by design, not default. Humanity and caring about people—that’s all you need.”

Companies tend to focus on people who are good at their jobs, often promoting them to leadership positions. “Companies will have a person who’s good at what he or she does and promote them,” Jacques says. “The problem is [the companies] don’t give any leadership training which sets [employees] up to fail. Leadership can be learned, but you must give your future leaders effective tools to teach them how to lead.”

When helping companies develop their young leaders, Jacques often introduces the HIP model. “One of the first things a new leader needs to know how to do is give feedback,” she explains. “The H stands for, ‘I want to have you explain to me what happened.’ Then, I ask, ‘What was the impact of that?’ Finally, ‘What’s the plan moving forward?’ HIP is a tool people can take and use, and it encourages people to give feedback in a positive way. It can be used to correct a negative situation or encourage a positive one.”

The complexity mindset

Sorensen says designing processes with intention is another important consideration. “In business, we don’t actually design for people, we design for new technologies. We design for processes that create efficiencies,” she says. “But humans are multi-faceted and multi-dimensional. … The processes you build should help empower people, not constrain them.”

Photo courtesy of Sydne Jacques

The complexity mindset helps people make sense of what they’re encountering with every interaction and every change that happens. If multiple interactions go south, people begin to feel out of step with the culture—and those little things all add up, according to Sorensen.

“How do we help people engage in their natural design to make sense of things and derive meaning so they can change in a way that is going to honor the culture rather than pull away from it?” she asks. “Workplaces are complex, humans are complex. How do you honor the human first? The processes you build should help empower people, not constrain them.”

Don’t overlook the right people

The culture and design of an organization is only half of the puzzle. The people hired to work within the design are even more important. Shay Baker, program manager of Return Utah, and Sara Jones, CEO of InclusionPro, can tell companies about several often-overlooked sources of experience.

Return Utah is a specific career re-entry program for the State of Utah and the only public career re-entry service in the country. Baker says, “Hiring returners, those who have had career breaks for any reason or for any length of time, is an excellent way to enhance an organization’s culture.”

Baker has firsthand experience with this approach. She had a long and successful career in journalism as a journalist and producer, covering breaking news, elections, sweeps and more, but the job required her to often be on call. When she and her husband started their family, she knew the schedule wouldn’t work. She decided to step away from her career for several years. Later, she wanted to go back but was worried about the gap in her resume.

To help bridge her gap in work experience, she applied for the Utah Department of Commerce’s “returnship” program, a four-month program that reintroduces a potential employee to the workforce. Candidates can apply for a specific role, and the program helps them revamp their résumé with recent experiences. They also receive transitional support, résumé-writing help and networking opportunities.

“Once I completed my four-month returnship, I received an offer to run the program,” Baker says. “It was a transformative experience for me. It changed a lot in my life—my income, my family culture and how I spend my time. It enhanced my professional self; I had missed working.”

Hiring employees with diverse employment histories is a small portion of the overall goal of diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI). No matter the industry—technology, health care, trades—a focus on overall DEI when hiring is a must-have for developing a strong employee base. Companies are encouraged to have a DEI focus as a way to grow their culture through diverse perspectives and viewpoints. Jones helps companies develop DEI strategies.

“Companies have to decide if they want diversity truly embedded in their culture, which means true behavioral change,” Jones says. “True behavioral change can’t happen with one ‘feel good’ event. … In any change management, if you ever want to get the larger group to come along, it’s just slower—much more intentional, much more strategic. You’re getting people who may have preconceived notions and may be resistant. They don’t know what they don’t know, and they may have some fear. … Inclusion goes both ways. This kind of approach takes a longer time, but it’s the only way to create a truly diverse environment.”

The journey toward a vibrant culture and true community of coworkers is challenging and never-ending. Every individual in an organization must work every day to cultivate an environment that enriches employees’ lives—building a community is a community effort. Randle says, “When you find people like that, it takes the pressure off me to feel like I have to take the lead on being the culture. They can be the culture and lead it, too.”

A group of Return Utah’s first participants attend the Women in International Business Conference sponsored by World Trade Association Utah, March 2022. Left to Right: Ilaise Toiolo, Terrah Anderson, Erin Smith, Sabrina Byron, Jessaka Nakai, Terri Okey, and Shay Baker

All in the family

Mickey Jacobs — Fri, 20 Dec 2024 16:00:00 +0000

This story appears in the December issue of Utah Business. Subscribe.

When Jerry Wagstaff was a teenager running his grandfather’s gas stations, he probably had no idea they would eventually become Utah’s iconic Holiday Oil. Today, the gas stations and convenience stores are spread throughout Northern Utah and are known for amazing Diet Cokes and the iconic green dinosaur in the parking lots of many locations.

The oil business is a family legacy. Jerry’s uncle helped start the oil refinery known as the Flying J brand today, and Jerry would lease gas stations from that uncle. Eventually, he made enough money that he bought a piece of property, built his own station and continued the model that has been the foundation of Holiday Oil over the years.The business has grown to 1,000 employees and 76 locations, with expectations to hit 100 stores by the end of the 2020s.

Jerry’s sons, Scott and Mike, became a big part of Holiday Oil’s soaring success. Their involvement became even more prominent when, in 2003, Jerry and his wife were asked to preside over the California San Francisco Mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, which would require him to step away from the business for at least three years. Jerry handed the reins to Mike, who would act as president, while Scott would focus on real estate and managing the family trust.

That’s where the succession planning ended. And while Jerry’s death in 2022 was not sudden, there were misunderstandings about the business after his passing.

“My dad was very focused on the financial future,” Mike says. “Tax planning, setting things up for a trust — he was focused on that side of it. But that’s where the communication ended. He did not talk to the family about how it would carry on, who would do what or what he desired. That’s been very, very difficult for our family. … We hired some consultants to come in who were able to see things we couldn’t see. They helped us see things and do things in a different way.”

This confusion around succession planning is not uncommon.

A lack of succession plans

The STEP 2019 Global Family Business Survey revealed that 70 percent of family business leaders did not have a succession plan in place. These plans (or the lack thereof) may impact many Utah-based businesses — Utah has the fifth highest percentage of family-owned businesses (34.54 percent) according to OnDeck.

Family businesses are intricate entities. While many thrive on close relationships, the same dynamic can pose unique challenges. The Harvard Business Review reports that about 70 percent of family-owned businesses either fail or are sold before the second generation has an opportunity to take over. Only about 13 percent manage to sustain operations long enough for a third generation to step into leadership.

Despite the lack of a formal succession plan, 45 percent of global family business leaders said it was highly likely the businesses would “stay in the hands of the family in the future,” according to the STEP survey.

Even family members must earn their way to the top

When Nicole Mouskondis was competing as a gymnast for the University of Utah, she never foresaw leading Nicholas and Company — the 80-year-old food service business that belonged to her future husband’s family. But that’s exactly where she stands today.

“We’re going into the fourth generation of family in the business,” Mouskondis says. “We’re somewhat starting over again, which has been awesome. It has allowed us to really establish ground rules for our kids coming into the business. We require that they go work somewhere else for three years and be promoted before they can even interview at our company.”

“Everyone in the family who wants to work at Nicholas and Company has to start at the bottom,” Mouskondis continues. She started as a filing clerk in human resources. Her husband, who started working at the company at age 12, began his career by picking up nails that had fallen from the pallets in the delivery yard.

“When Nicholas and Company started in 1939, food service didn’t exist as it does today,” Mouskondis says. “[My father-in-law] had the vision, and he functioned like a first-generation entrepreneur even though he was second-generation. That passion is so important and has carried over to my husband and me today, and our kids are seeing that. We live, sleep and eat for the business and our employees.”

Several years ago, Mouskondis and her husband decided to buy out the rest of their family members and run the company as co-CEOs.

“Being a ‘business first’ business, securing the stability for generations to come — not just for our family but for all of our team members — and making sure it’s run properly, that it’s sustainable, that it’s thriving — those are all things that are super important to us,” she says. “We’ve left our titles in place really more as an aspirational thing for our kids because they see in front of them the opportunity that they can have.”

COVID-19 helped shaped Mouskondis’ kids as the successors of the business, she says. Under one roof, they watched their parents in real time on Zoom calls, making difficult decisions, selling off assets so they could keep as many people employed as possible.

“They would hear our employees say, ‘You’re keeping a roof over my head.’ I think that’s when it clicked for them,” Mouskondis says. She believes succession plans and family involvement will look different for this next generation.

“You can’t just plop a kid into a multi-billion dollar business and say, ‘Okay, you’re running the business.’ … They will need new skills to run it than we had, just as we needed new ones when we took over. We told our kids they’ll have to work twice as hard as an employee off the street, and that’s just the way it is.”

Creating a legacy strong enough to span generations

On March 29, 2020, Utah lost one of its most iconic business leaders and philanthropists when Robert Garff died from COVID-related complications. Robert was the chairman of Ken Garff Automotive Group, a former Utah House speaker, and chairman of the Salt Lake Organizing Committee for the 2002 Olympics. He also founded the Road to Success and Keys to Success programs and was a generous supporter of his alma mater, the University of Utah.

A few months after his passing, it was announced that his wife, Katharine (Kathi) Garff, would replace him as chair of Garff Enterprises’ board of directors.

Countless awards and a signed football helmet are displayed on the coffee table in the center of Kathi’s office. The Garff’s support of the University of Utah and other local entities is self-evident. The most important factor in their succession planning, it seems, is ensuring that this legacy of giving continues through those they employ.

“It started when I married Bob and met Ken Garff,” Kathi says. “One of the main things Bob told me when we first started dating is that it’s really important to give back — not just to individuals but also to neighborhoods, communities, cities and the state. That’s because of the many wonderful things our neighborhoods give back to us. … Bob and I tried to include [this philosophy] in everything we did. … We’ve tried to lead our business this way and teach our children these concepts as well.”

A culture of giving back, Kathi says, has to continue generation after generation.

“It’s not just about who is going to take over next for leading the company, but how you make sure that legacy keeps carrying on no matter who’s in charge. We ask everybody, ‘What’s your legacy? What do you want it to be?’”

70 years of Chick’s Cafe

A Q&A with co-owner Lynette Wright.

How has keeping Chick’s Cafe in the family contributed to its success?

Since it started, we have tried to keep the menu, equipment and recipes the same because it worked. Why change your chicken noodle soup, scone recipe or pies if that’s what people are coming for?

Has the plan always been to keep Chick’s Cafe in the family?

My co-owner and sister-in-law, Shelley Ryan, started working at Chick’s when she was about 14 years old. I was hired at the age of 16. When Shelley’s dad bought the Ford dealership in town, he stepped away from Chick’s. … Between my kids, sisters and my sister’s kids, we always have family working. In the end, we’re able to keep Chick’s going because of family.

What’s your advice for entrepreneurs taking over family businesses?

Learn the business side, then learn what your employees need. If you treat your employees like family — even the ones who aren’t — they will be good to you.

2023 Utah Business Leaders of the Year: Nicole Tanner

Mickey Jacobs — Tue, 30 Jan 2024 15:00:00 +0000

Utah Business is proud to present the inaugural cohort of our Utah Business Leaders of the Year award. These 12 honorees represent the greatest accomplishments of Utah’s business community in 2023 and were selected by the Utah Business editorial team.

Nicole Tanner

Founder | Swig
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It seems as if you can’t drive through any city in Utah without passing at least one Swig along the way—and soon, that’ll be true in other states, as well. In August 2023, Swig announced the successful signing of 250 franchise units across seven new markets just six months after launching multi-unit franchising in February.

It’s safe to say that the company—and founder Nicole Tanner’s role in it—has changed a great deal since the early days when she worked the drive-thru line herself and took orders on sticky notes.

“We’re so much more than a drink company. We’re sometimes the best part of a person’s day,” Tanner says.

She points to 2020 as the year that Swig really took off. During COVID-19, Swig’s drive-thru remained open. “Sometimes, we were the only human contact people had,” Tanner says. “They got out of their houses to get their Swig drink. We grew so much in 2020 and were very fortunate.”

2020 also marked the first year of Swig’s “Save the Cups” campaign, a give-back initiative where proceeds from certain drinks are put into a fund to help those dealing with the high medical bills associated with fighting breast cancer. The “Save the Cups” campaign has raised over $1 million, with the company raising over $300,000 in October 2023—the campaign’s most successful month to date.It’s a cause near and dear to Nicole’s heart.

“I was diagnosed with a rare and aggressive form of breast cancer when I was just 37,” she says. “A friend of mine suggested I get my first mammogram out of the blue, and after putting her off for quite some time, I got one. I was lucky I did because my cancer does not respond to treatment. I was able to get surgery to remove it because we caught it so soon, which saved my life. … That’s why we’re so much more than a drink company. We’ve created this amazing movement, and I’m so grateful we can be a part of it—to help out others so authentically.”

It’s been win after win for Swig. In November 2022, The Larry H. Miller Company acquired a 75 percent stake in the drive-thru beverage chain “for nine figures,” according to Savory Restaurant Fund’s Andrew Smith. With 420 total franchise units sold at the time of this writing (and a goal to reach 500 by the end of 2023), it’s only onward and upward from here.

“There’s a lot that goes into opening a business. There’s a lot of sacrifice with your family and your time and a lot of scary moments along the way, but 2023 made it worth it. It’s the year I’ve hoped and dreamed for.”

Our first mentors: How mothers shape our careers

Mickey Jacobs — Wed, 08 May 2024 15:00:25 +0000

When I think of my professional career and where I’ve learned the most about business, it wasn’t in school or any one specific role. It was when I worked as a floral shop delivery driver in Burke, Virginia, with my mother — the new shop owner.

My mother grew up around flowers her entire life, working in her own parents’ shop when she was young. When my dad’s Navy career brought us to Washington, D.C., she took a job at Burke Florist. The next year, she bought the business.

The shop itself was old and dated; Florists’ Transworld Delivery (FTD) ads of funeral arrangements were its only décor. Located in a dark and rundown strip mall, I couldn’t imagine how she’d make it work. But she had a vision, and it quickly became infectious.

My mom spent countless hours repainting the walls, changing the logo and filling the shop with elegant arrangements. To save on costs, she worked by herself, and I became her delivery driver. After dropping off my deliveries each night, I’d stand next to her at the cash register as she clicked its keys and tallied the sales with fingers crossed, hoping we’d made $100.00 — that was our break-even amount. As I watched the creativity and magic unfold, I was unknowingly tucking away all these little business lessons I’d use later in life.

In talking with some of my friends in the Utah Business community, I’ve realized I’m not alone in carrying what my mom taught me into my career.

Lessons in trust and helping others

When Strategic Storytelling founder Cesar Castro was seven years old, his family immigrated to Utah from Chile. His younger brother, Juanito, needed medical care that was best provided by Utah’s Primary Children’s Hospital.

When they arrived, his parents had four children to support and only $600. To assist with expenses, Cesar’s mom began cleaning houses while the children were in school. She would take Juanito with her as she worked because he needed 24/7 care.Her hours were long, and at first, she had just two large houses on her route. With dedication and perseverance, “Clara’s Cleaning Crew” grew to hundreds of homes with teams of people working for her. Cesar watched his mother help other immigrants, especially those from Latin American countries. She received lots of referrals for new employees based on her reputation for being willing to help others. Sometimes, that help included buying a car or paying someone’s rent.

Cesar noticed how, sometimes, the same people his mother helped were ungrateful and would turn on her. When he was 15, he asked her why she continued to help when so many treated her this way. Her answer would stay with him throughout his life. She said, “Son, you need to trust people because most are really good. If you stop trusting others, you will miss so many people you can help.”

Cesar says this advice has shaped his life, and her words have proved true. His brother Juanito defied the odds and lived to the age of 22, cared for by his mother during his lifetime.

Lessons in perseverance and purpose

Jen Wakeland, the strategic development director for Beaver County, credits her career success to evenings at her family’s dinner table. Her mother worked in the Utah County Recorder’s Office while she was growing up, and conversations over dinner covered topics such as boundaries, rights of way, property rights and critical infrastructure.

“It’s where I cut my teeth to get where I am today,” Wakeland says. “I didn’t realize it at the time, but my mom was teeing me up for some interesting things I would do in my career.”Wakeland says her mom, Andrea Allen, poured herself into her job and learned as much as she could, sometimes taking on highly technical topics. Even without a college degree, she was able to advance and is now the elected official for this same office.

“I’m just so dang proud of her,” Wakeland says. “I come from a line of women who work in government and whose husbands are entrepreneurs or self-employed. We work in jobs that serve the public but also provide health benefits for our families.”

Wakeland’s grandmother retired from the state office of the DMV, and she has two aunts who work in city government. It wasn’t unusual for her to visit her grandma when she was working at the state office building in Provo and seeing elected government officials strolling its hallways.

When Wakeland thinks of how she conducts herself today, she relates it back to her mom and the other great women in her family who taught her three important things: 1) Hard work will get you anywhere. 2) It’s going to be uncomfortable, but how you push through it will make the difference. 3) At the end of the day, you’re with your family, who you’re doing that uncomfortable, hard work for.

Lessons in leadership

It doesn’t matter what the profession is — even the roughest, male-dominated roles can be heavily influenced by a mother’s example.

Brig. Gen. Max Stitzer, who spent 40 years in the U.S. Air Force, says it was his mother’s influence that shaped his career. “Certainly, my dad had an influence on me — he was an engineer and taught me how to make things with my hands and how to reason,” he says. “The military is great at teaching you the technical stuff as well. But what we don’t teach are the ‘soft skills’— humility, being a good human being, treating others with kindness and caring for those who are less advantaged. My mom taught me those things, and I use them every single day.”

Whenever Stitzer was awarded a big achievement, promotion or medal, he’d put it back in the box and ship it to his mom.

“She has all of my original medals, and after I recently won an award for being a male ally, I sent her that certificate and said, “I want you to have this because I learned those things from you.”

Lessons in resilience and commitment

After just a few months, my mom and I no longer had to cross our fingers at the register of Burke Florist. We were profitable, which meant she could hire a team of additional designers — just in time for Mother’s Day week.

If anything could’ve gone wrong, it did. We had four weddings that weekend and not enough people to deliver. That was in addition to a mound of in-town deliveries people had ordered for their beloved mothers that all had to go out as well. The walk-in fridge where the flowers were stored was full to capacity, and then it stopped working. Flowers are doomed without refrigeration, so a solution had to be found. While my mom worked to find someone to fix the cooler, the designers rallied to stuff their home fridges with fragrant buckets of mums and carnations. Everyone pulled together for her, and somehow, in some way, it all worked out. The flower shuffling held things together until the shop’s fridge was working again. To cover the weddings, she taught me and my dad how to decorate the churches, and off we went.

It was one of the most exhausting days ever, and my deliveries kept me out until 9 p.m. that Saturday night. Just as I was arriving back at the shop, the phone rang. A customer who had missed her delivery was calling to ask if there was any way we could make the long drive out to re-deliver her bouquet. As I wildly waved my arms, giving my mom a silent scream of “NO!” I heard her say, “Of course! We wouldn’t want you to miss your Mother’s Day gift!” as she pointed to the door and handed me the flowers.

Burke Florist, and the reinvention my mom gave it, was wildly successful. The one little shop turned into two, and my mom became so popular that the local community college asked her to teach floral arranging classes, which was how she found new designers to work in the shop. Within a few years, she was decorating The White House at Christmas, and she led the designers for former President George H. W. Bush’s inauguration in 1989 — all from her store in that rundown strip mall.

It’s been 40 years since I delivered flowers in the red delivery truck, but not a day goes by that I don’t utilize my mother’s flower shop wisdom.

To all the mothers out there, Happy Mother’s Day.

The case for reinventing the coal industry

Mickey Jacobs — Fri, 08 Sep 2023 18:48:43 +0000

Photo courtesy of Blue Sky Energy

You’d think that someone on a mission to save and reinvent the coal industry would have a lifetime of experience in coal mining, come from a long heritage of coal miners, and most likely hail from Kentucky or West Virginia. On the contrary, a new hope for the coal industry—and the material itself—is Utah’s Alan Hall.

His resume reads like many of the state’s other successful, high-tech founders do, and it doesn’t contain a speck of coal dust. Hall is the former chairman of the Utah Technology Council, co-founder of Mercato Partners and the founder of Marketstar, one of Utah’s oldest tech giants. Nothing on his impressive resume even comes close to mentioning coal. So how did this philanthropist, venture capitalist and serial entrepreneur find himself in the coal business? And, more importantly, why?

Potential sans pollution

Hall’s passion for coal started with a unique opportunity. Just over one year ago, the team at Renuva Energy offered Hall the exclusive global operating license to build manufacturing plants that use their technology to convert coal into reusable energy.

“I didn’t know anything [about coal] at the time, so I consulted with former Brigham Young University professors in chemistry and engineering—Craig Eatough and Brent Strong—to learn about what products can be produced and what technology is out there,” Hall says. “Hydrogen is the number one product that can be converted from coal. It can replace every fuel we’ve got.”

Through Blue Sky Energy (BSE), Hall’s latest venture, he aims to remediate coal waste, repurpose it as a clean energy source and capture harmful greenhouse gases in the process. BSE partners with coal producers to convert coal and coal waste into other products like crude oil, carbon-neutral coal char and other compressed gases.

“Instead of burning coal, we’ll put it in a 40-by-8 kiln or oven and heat it to 2,000 degrees. When you heat coal that way, it breaks down into all the chemicals inside it,” Hall explains. “As the vapors are released, they become hydrogen, active carbon, carbon fiber and graphite. We then collect those gases and recycle them back in to heat the coal without any exhausts. That clean hydrogen can be used for transportation and electricity. Hydrogen is the future of clean-burning fuel.”

Dr. Craig Eatough, chief science officer at Blue Sky, abides by this mantra: “Coal is too valuable to burn.” He says that while 90 percent of Blue Sky’s revenue will come from hydrogen production, it’ll only account for up to 10 percent of the company’s products.

“Our solution for coal is very real,” Eatough continues. “We’ve been extracting chemicals and products from coal for different applications, but it hasn’t been done in an environmentally acceptable manner. Faulty processes have led to environmental issues. … With our technology, we reduce those emissions down to almost zero percent.”

Alan Hall giving a presentation at the Coal Market Strategies conference in Park City, Utah. | Photo by Mickey Jacobs

Hall points out that mining communities suffer as coal mines close and miners lose their jobs. According to a Journal of Science Policy & Governance report, over 300 coal-fired power plants have been retired in the last decade, and more than 42 percent of jobs in coal production have been lost since 2011. Hall aims to save the industry and keep miners employed through BSE’s technology, ultimately revitalizing these rural communities.

While this job loss has been primarily concentrated in the Appalachian region, it’s also hitting other states. In 2021, 1,000 miners were laid off in Montana and Wyoming, greatly impacting the economies in the areas affected.

“Families in our mining communities are telling their kids to stay away from mining and that there’s no future there. But we need miners! That’s where the disconnect is,” said Emily Arthun, CEO of the American Coal Council, at the Coal Market Strategies conference in August. “Mineral mines, coal mines—the skillsets are transferable. We need to train kids on what’s going on in mining and coal and get them excited.”

A dirty word

Hall points out that though the word “coal” has a negative connotation, it didn’t always—and doesn’t have to in the future.

“Coal has been used for 200 years. It’s been burned all this time, and it’s polluted the sky,” he says. “Big coal mining companies haven’t thought about what they could be doing differently. The coal industry is not led by entrepreneurs and the government has condemned coal. But why don’t we take the good things out of coal and use them without polluting the environment? Now, we’re going to the coal mines and saying, ‘Let’s partner and see how fast we can do this.’”

BSE’s pilot plant is located in Wellington, Utah. The company plans to open as many as 300 plants across the United States—many in Wyoming—and another 1,200 facilities in numerous foreign coal mining countries. All of these plants will be primarily focused on converting coal into hydrogen.

“There’s a lot of coal in Wyoming,” Hall says. “The state wants [these plants] there because most of their tax revenue came from the coal companies, and when they closed, there was no tax revenue. We’re coming to keep them open, and their revenues will come from the sale of hydrogen.”

In a 2022 press release, BSE announced that one plant ingesting 75,000 tons of coal refuse could generate up to 24,750 tons of industrial-grade charcoal, 187,500 barrels of crude oil and high volumes of commercial gasses—like butane, methane and propane—annually. What that equates to in revenues is significant, according to Hall.

“Today, you can buy hydrogen for $10 per kilogram. The plants we’re building will make 3.5 million kilograms or $35 million in just hydrogen,” he says. “Four of [the plants we’re currently building] will be permanent in Wellington, using local coal from local mines. It’s somewhat of a philanthropic effort and will give money to the communities. We’ll keep them in business.”

The future of (clean) energy

With the global shift away from fossil fuels comes many opportunities for hydrogen. For example, Volkswagen recently filed a patent for a new hydrogen car that could travel over 1,200 miles on a single tank.

“Regardless of the manufacturer, our goal is for our technology to be launched in a series vehicle by 2026,” said Kraftwerk CEO Sascha Kühn, the company behind the fuel cell technology, in an article published by Hydrogen Central last year.

And other exciting discoveries about the resource are being made with increasing frequency. For example, the University of Wyoming recently began testing a coal-derived soil amendment that could allow the soil to retain more water and increase plant growth.

“The possibilities for coal seem to be never-ending,” Hall says. “Right now, we’re talking to the oil industry and educating people. We’re talking to Northrop Grumman for activated carbon. We’re talking to companies that need heavy oil and air suppliers that need hydrogen.”

To illustrate how public perception cuts coal short, Hall recounts an episode of “The Simpsons” in which Homer Simpson is flabbergasted when Lisa, his book-smart daughter, enlightens him about the plethora of food products that stem from pigs. In reply, Homer exclaims, “Miracle animals!”

“Just as many people fail to grasp the multifaceted nature of our porky pals, they turn a blind eye to the unexpected wonders of coal,” Hall continues, saying, “Coal is not simply a symbol of dirty energy. Coal gifts us an astonishing array of carbon-based products, from diamonds to synthetic fibers. Coal’s carbon-based derivatives weave themselves into our everyday lives without us even realizing it. It’s almost as if coal is playing a game of hide-and-seek, taunting us with its unexpected versatility.”

Hall also worries about the public’s understanding of the role coal currently plays in America’s energy consumption and the dangers of phasing away from it too soon. To put this into perspective, he tells this story about a conversation he had with a prospective partner in South Africa who was interested in franchising the BSE technology:

“It was nighttime where the gentleman was located, and he was interested in working with us because they’re closing the coal mines in South Africa. During our call, I could only see his face by the light of the computer screen. They only have electricity for 12 hours per day. Coal has been their main energy source for electricity and, with its loss, their electricity is rationed. At Blue Sky, we’re saying, ‘Hold on, don’t close the coal mines just yet. Let’s give this new approach a try. We want to give you electricity 24/7.’”

An unlikely story

As we finished our discussion, I couldn’t help but comment on the transformation Hall has made to his own career. He laughed, then shared a story from when he was nominated for the Ernst & Young Entrepreneur of the Year Award in 1996. He had made it to nationals in Palm Springs, California, and on the night of the award, he turned to the gentleman—another nominee—seated next to him in the audience.

“What do you do for a living?” Hall asked, to which the man replied, “I try to sell books online.” Unimpressed, Alan turned to his wife, seated on his other side, and whispered, “That’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard!” That man was Jeff Bezos, the founder of Amazon.com.

Several years later, when Hall was the chairman of the Utah Technology Council, Bezos was invited to attend and speak at one of their events. Hall had the chance to recount the story to those in the audience, including Bezos, who was quite amused.

“I go back to that night a lot and my reaction to him describing his line of work,” Hall says. “When people ask me what I do, and I reply with, ‘I turn coal into stuff,’ I wait for them to roll their eyes and turn to the person next to them and say, ‘Dumbest idea ever.’ But my goal is to be the Jeff Bezos of coal.”

Falling from grace: What happens when founders lose their own companies?

Mickey Jacobs — Wed, 16 Aug 2023 18:00:05 +0000

The photo of the enormous blue Weave banner perched across the New York Stock Exchange stopped me mid-scroll on LinkedIn one morning in November 2021. I remembered Weave was poised to go public, so I quickly surmised Brandon Rodman, Weave’s co-founder, must be there to celebrate—until I began reading the post that accompanied the photo.

“We risked everything to bring Weave into the world. We emptied our early retirement account, personally paid employees’ wages, accrued huge debt on our personal credit cards, were upside down on our home and we sold our cars,” Rodman’s post read. He recounted success after success. Then, the post ended with, “Then, almost overnight, I was no longer running Weave. I didn’t understand. No one did. It didn’t make sense. But it happened. One year later, my wife and I quietly celebrated Weave’s IPO from the outside. Everyone else was inside.”

I ached for Rodman when I read that. Unfortunately, his story is nothing new.

It’s not you; it’s me

In 2008, Noah Wasserman published a Harvard Business Review article titled “The Founder’s Dilemma.” After analyzing 212 American startups, he found that 50 percent of founders were no longer the CEO by the time their ventures were three years old. In year four, only 40 percent were still in the corner office, and fewer than 25 percent led their companies’ initial public offerings.

Marc Randolph, the co-founder of Netflix, recently posted a different take. “When I stepped down as Netflix CEO, it was because we all realized I wasn’t the best person to fill that role at that company at that point in its growth,” he wrote. “Some founders do this from day one, recognizing that their superpower isn’t running the company, so they find someone else. The problem arises when a founder (or those around them) insists on running ‘their’ company even if they don’t have the skills, temperament, or desire to do it well.”

Art Coombs, the founder of Lehi-based KomBea Corporation, knows this all too well. In 2000, during the dot-com boom, he co-founded Echopass. It was one of the first companies to provide advanced, IP-based call and contact center solutions as a service for mid-large enterprises. In March of that year, Echopass raised $27.5 million in Series A funding. It would be the company’s first of nine rounds of funding totaling $82.1 million.

“In order to raise big money from a premier venture capitalist, you have to paint this crazy picture of the company three to five years down the road. You’re selling a thoroughbred that will not only win the Kentucky Derby but the Triple Crown,” Coombs says. “That’s what they want to hear. So you paint this big, audacious image for them, set big goals, and then reality sets in. The moment you don’t hit the number is the moment they start saying, ‘We need another person,’ and they slide another CEO in.” For Coombs, that time came just eighteen months later. When Echopass was sold to Genesys in 2013, Coombs made 35 cents on the deal.

When I share Rodman’s post, Coombs chuckles and says, “More often than not, that’s how it looks.”

Good intentions

Stephenie Larsen, the founder and former CEO of Encircle, recently stepped down from the organization she had poured her heart and soul into when the board of directors—many of whom she had invited to join the organization—decided a change was needed. I was in absolute shock when I heard this news, as I’d personally witnessed how Larsen had completely given herself to supporting and advocating for so many LGBTQ+ youth in Utah.

When I was able to go to dinner with her a few months later, I asked Larsen how she was doing. The toll this had taken on her was palpable.

“You have to ask yourself who your people are,” she says. “Who do you care about in life? You lean on those people, your truest people, and you tell yourself you did your best, you tried your hardest. And if you failed, you tell yourself you did your best for the people you were serving. And if you walk away or get kicked out knowing you did your best, that’s what brings true peace.”

There are things Larsen would have done differently, of course, but she claims to have no regrets.

“I also learned it’s really easy to judge people who are under a microscope, under constant critique, and no one knows,” she continues. “But you’re the only one who knows you did everything with the best intent.”

The long and winding road

Following his departure from Echopass, Coombs searched for his next opportunity. “Painful lessons are often the best,” he says. Given what happened with the investors at Echopass, he felt no one would hire him. And so he started and self-funded KomBea.

“We pitched KomBea 40-50 times and got shot down each time. No one would give us money,” Coombs says. “But when you have to make it work, you make it work. It’s your livelihood, and that’s the best motivation you have. So we stuck to our own funding, scraped by, and now KomBea is finally seeing a lot of success.”

Coombs says one of his proudest moments came when he ran into his original VCs several years ago—the ones who terminated him. They said, “Echopass was the right solution, just 10 years too early.”

In the end, Coombs found his way with KomBea. Larsen is taking time off to be with her family as she contemplates the next cause that will bring her as much fulfillment as Encircle did. Rodman has gone on to found Previ, a rising star in Silicon Slopes. His posts are hopeful and proud, and in almost every one of them, he talks about putting employees first.

“Weave turned out to be a huge success, but Previ is really time for me to go to work,” Rodman wrote in his Founder Series column. “This is going to be my life’s work.”

Employment after incarceration: the importance of Utah’s Clean Slate law

Mickey Jacobs — Sun, 02 Jul 2023 22:31:29 +0000

Noella Sudbury | Photograph by Ori Media

Isat staring at my computer screen, hitting refresh every few minutes to check for an incoming email from the company I’d interviewed with a few days prior. It was January 2023, and I was one of the thousands of tech workers laid off right before the holidays due to a slagging economy.

So many people across the country were, and many still are, in the same shoes. LinkedIn profiles became colorfully decorated with green, ominous “Open to Work” banners, indicating they had met the same fate. But there was one major difference between me and most of those people: I have a felony on my record from over 10 years ago, something that can—and does—stop an employer in their tracks when considering me for a position.

Breaking the cycle of incarceration

In April, KUTV reported there are over 800,000 Utahns who have a criminal background or conviction on their record. That’s one in four people, and 60 percent of them are searching for employment opportunities. Unemployment of people with criminal records is estimated to cost the United States economy up to $87 billion each year, according to the Center for Economic and Policy Research. Half of all children in the United States have a parent with a criminal record, according to the Clean Slate Initiative, a bipartisan national movement to automate the clearing of criminal records.

A criminal record of any kind—even one that is a decade old like mine—can make life incredibly hard. Finding housing can feel impossible because most individuals and companies will issue an automatic rejection once it shows up on a credit check. When searching for a job, answering “yes” to a potential employer’s question about past convictions will often eliminate you from consideration automatically. Most state schools won’t admit anyone with a criminal background, no matter what the offense is. And if you require a professional license in the real estate or medical fields, again, you’re likely to be disqualified.

Noella Sudbury helps solve these problems. She is an attorney and the founder of Rasa—an organization on a mission to educate and make drastic changes for people who are, in her terms, “justice challenged.” I met her at an employer forum event at The Other Side Academy in downtown Salt Lake City, and I instantly wondered, “How did she get involved in something that most people would shun?”

“I guess it stems from my upbringing. My mother grew up in poverty in rural Utah as one of 10 children,” she replies. “I became interested in why some people are born into poverty. What keeps people in poverty, and how do they get out of poverty? And particularly, why is there so much inequity, and how is that fair?”

Becoming an attorney wasn’t on Sudbury’s radar until her undergraduate years at the University of Utah, where she studied social justice as a result of the questions that arose in her childhood.

“Different disciplines look at poverty differently. Public health experts, public policy experts, the law—they all look at it differently,” she says. “That’s really when I became interested in law. I realized that law is part of the problem, … but I also saw that law could be part of the solution.”

After law school, Sudbury did a clerkship for the late Justice Ronald E. Nehring on the Utah Supreme Court. As she researched the briefs, she would read about the backgrounds of the criminal defendants.

“I would read these cases and see how, sometimes, circumstances and trauma and poverty and substance use and mental health were at the root of the criminal justice system,” she says. “People have trauma in their lives, experience violence and have these horrible things happen to them, which creates mental health issues. Often, people turn to substances and other behaviors to just deal with what’s going on. And unfortunately, we make moral judgments about people without understanding what led to those choices. It’s very sad.”

After law school, Noella’s first job was as a public defender. In that role, she quickly realized just how broken the system was and how passionate she was about reform.

“My takeaway from being a public defender is that the system is not taking into account all of those things I learned in college—the trauma, the substance abuse, the mental health challenges that come about as a result—and we’re processing people through the system instead of addressing the root causes of the behavior or providing resources to actually treat the issues that cause the behavior,” she says. “It’s not surprising we’re seeing a high recidivism rate or a churn of people because we’re not addressing their needs. We’re not healing them.”

Brett Tolman—the former U.S. Attorney for the District of Utah, the top prosecutor in the state and one of the biggest advocates for criminal justice reform in Utah—knows this all too well. In addition to his private law practice, Tolman is now the executive director of Right On Crime, a national organization that uses “data-driven solutions for reducing crime, restoring victims, reforming offenders and lowering taxpayer costs,” according to its website.

“Finding work is the biggest determining factor on recidivism,” Tolman says. “Across the country, the recidivism rate is at 82 percent if someone can’t find a meaningful job. That’s astounding—82 percent will be arrested again within 10 years if they aren’t working and truly able to provide for themselves. It’s shocking, but not if you understand how many opportunities to fail there are for this community when they get out of prison. When they can’t find work, how are they supposed to survive without returning to crime? If they can’t find housing, what are they supposed to do? These are our friends, our neighbors, and we need to knock down barriers to help them get employment because this is what hurts them most.”

Brett Tolman | Photo courtesy of Right on Crime

Passing Utah’s Clean Slate law

Following her stint as a public defender, Sudbury finally found a way to make changes to the system through a chance meeting with Salt Lake County’s then-Mayor Ben McAdams. The county had a high recidivism rate, and McAdams wanted to see if providing treatment, employment and peer support to people reentering the community would result in different outcomes. Following that conversation, McAdams invited Sudbury to join his team.

“It was exciting to me because I saw it as a chance to tackle these issues at a scale that wasn’t possible at the public defender office,” Sudbury says. “It was an opportunity to actually change some laws.”

In her role, Sudbury worked on many different projects but found there was one in particular that everyone could agree on: record expungement.

“It was across party lines, agency lines—everyone could agree that if someone had been sentenced, served out their sentence, done everything the judge asked them to do and ‘paid their debt to society,’ they ought to be able to move on with their lives,” she says.

Helping those who qualified to have their records expunged was Sudbury’s first “big change.” Through a massive effort involving many volunteers, legal advisers and community advocates, she led the charge to hold an “Expungement Day” in downtown Salt Lake City in April of 2018.

The record expungement process usually takes a year to complete, and the event aimed to expunge as many records as possible in one day. Hundreds of people from all over the state stood in line for hours, many traveling in from far across the state and sleeping in their cars overnight to be first in line the morning of the event.

Sudbury was stunned by the turnout. “It really touched me to see hundreds and hundreds of people in line, some holding hands with their kids, people of all ages and backgrounds,” she says. “They wanted housing, a job, healthcare—just a better life. I didn’t realize how much a record holds someone back from opportunities until I started meeting some of these people and hearing their stories, and we have a lot in common with them.”

The event was a resounding success, but it also required an incredible amount of work and resources. Sudbury knew there had to be an easier way. She began researching and met contacts in the State of Pennsylvania, the first state to enact the automatic expungement or “Clean Slate” initiative for those who qualify. Sudbury’s contacts in Pennsylvania gave her advice on how to get similar legislation passed in Utah, and she got to work.

“The Chamber was extremely supportive. I really can’t say enough good things about Derek Miller and his staff, who were massive cheerleaders of this effort. The law passed unanimously in 2019,” Sudbury says. “Everybody could agree this is a common sense policy, and it affects a lot of people. If you don’t have [a criminal record], you know someone who does.”

In a press release from 2019, Miller—the president and CEO of the Salt Lake Chamber and Downtown Alliance—claimed the Clean Slate law is a key step to rebuilding Utah’s workforce and driving economic recovery.

“The smart policy of automating the expungement process will give thousands of deserving Utahns the second chances they deserve while at the same time making our state a better place to live and work,” he wrote. “It represents a common-sense solution for closing the justice and opportunity gaps—one that will further solidify our status as the best state for business.”

In February 2022, Utah’s Clean Slate law went into effect, and 534,000 criminal records became eligible for automatic clearance. To qualify, individuals must remain conviction-free for five to seven years, depending on the offense. Covered offenses include misdemeanor A drug possession, most misdemeanor B and C-level offenses and all infractions.

People wait in line for “Expungement Day” outside the St. Vincent de Paul Dining Hall in Salt Lake City on Thursday, April 5, 2018. | Photo by Kristin Murphy, Deseret News

What’s good for one is good for the whole

According to a report by the American Civil Liberties Union, people with records represent “an untapped pool of skilled and loyal workers.” The report also asserts that hiring people with criminal records leads to higher retention rates. What’s more, 85 percent of HR professionals report that individuals with criminal records perform as well or better than employees without records, according to a study by the SHRM Foundation and the Charles Koch Institute.

Those who clear their criminal records are 63 percent more likely to get a job interview than those who don’t, Sudbury says, adding that wages go up 20 percent after one year of clearance.

“Big businesses are very supportive because they need workers for their jobs,” she continues. “If we don’t allow someone to get a job because of their record, it costs all of us. If someone isn’t able to get a job, they’re more likely to be on food stamps, government assistance or, worse, return to crime.”

Sudbury recounts the story of one person helped by the Clean Slate law who went from relying on government assistance to owning her own home and being able to support her young daughter all on her own: “Intergenerational poverty was something that had been in her family since the beginning of time,” Sudbury says. “Expungement creates opportunities for people to access a totally different future. If an individual can remain crime-free for at least five years, they have no greater chance of committing a crime than any other individual.”

I’m a living example of these research findings. I have moved past a big mistake that happened over a decade ago during a horrific time in my life. So far, most people who know me have seen past it as well.

Though I never received a reply from the company that interviewed me earlier this year, my job search wasn’t as extensive or as lengthy as I anticipated. A former employer heard I was searching for a job and called with an amazing offer. She knew my background, but more importantly, she knew my work ethic and that she could trust me. She didn’t hesitate to work with me again. My heart overflows with gratitude for her, and for everyone else who continues to give me a chance.

Utah’s high-paying skilled trade professions are a best-kept secret

Mickey Jacobs — Fri, 19 May 2023 23:35:01 +0000

Photo credit: Hunt Electric

On a brisk morning in March, a small crowd gathered inside Salt Lake Community College’s Westpointe Workforce Training & Education Center. The hallways were quiet but festive and blanketed with yellow, white and blue balloons. New, satiny placards affixed to walls and doors announced the naming of the Karen Mayne Hall for Skilled Trades. Student welders and electricians paused their work for a moment to catch a glimpse of former Utah State Senator Karen Mayne—a tireless advocate for the college and skilled trade workers alike—in the naming ceremony crowd.

“This has not been an easy journey, but [my late husband] Ed and I had a heart for it,” Mayne said when asked to share a few words. “We knew we needed to protect people on the job site. We needed to make sure people were educated and make sure that all occupations are celebrated. That’s why we’re here today. To celebrate occupations, to help others fulfill their dreams and to help others be successful.”

While Mayne’s years-long journey as an advocate for the trades may have been a difficult one, it may also have been the tip of the spear in saving Utah’s ever-increasing need for skilled workers.

Layoffs? Never heard of them

“We need more people. More workers. It’s as simple as that, and it could become a crisis for us if we can’t build things because we don’t have the workers,” says Jeff Palmer, EVP at Layton Construction.

This is a far cry from what is happening in the tech sector. These days, LinkedIn reads like the obituary section for lost dream jobs. At the end of March, Google announced a round of layoffs that would impact 9,000 workers just months after laying off 18,000 employees. In April, Meta announced its two rounds of layoffs would impact a total of 21,000 jobs. Amazon laid off 18,000 staffers earlier this year, the largest cut in the company’s nearly 30-year history. The list goes on and on, yet skilled trade workers are in great demand—and the open positions in every sector are seemingly endless.

“One of the reasons we’re short on workers is so many boomers are retiring,” Palmer says. “We have more electricians retiring than we have joining. It’s becoming a major issue.”

Troy Gregory, president and CEO of Hunt Electric, echoes that sentiment. The average age of an electrician is around 55, he says, and for every three electricians who are retiring, only one is coming in to replace them.

“We need new leaders in our field,” Gregory continues. “We have so many opportunities we need to fill. If someone learns the trade, they can work their way up into great management roles if that’s something they’re interested in.”

To fill these open positions, companies are getting creative. Palmer says Layton Construction has been recruiting at high schools and hosting job fairs, incorporating hands-on activities so students can explore career paths that might be exciting to them.

Photo credit: Layton Construction

From commencement to career

Utah school systems can play an important role in supporting students in non-traditional career paths. Kristine Brown, a counselor at American Fork High School, says she has changed her whole approach to assisting students with their post-high school plans.

“I used to ask our kids when they reached their junior year what colleges they were hoping to attend when they graduate,” Brown says. “Now I simply ask, ‘What are your plans after graduation?’ A four-year college isn’t for everyone, and these kids need to know all the opportunities out there for them.”

Through the Alpine School District partnership, students can attend Mountainland Technical College (MTEC) tuition-free during their senior year and be that much further ahead when they graduate. Once in the program, many companies will hire MTEC students through a paid apprenticeship. Most students finish their schooling with little to no debt as a result.

“I don’t think anyone realizes how many great opportunities and careers in the trades there are out there,” says Michelle Price, director of Alpine School District’s career and technical education program. “The one thing I’d want others to know is that these aren’t low-level, low-paying jobs or careers. There’s everything from HVAC and general construction—where kids build a house from the ground up—to plumbing and electrical, cosmetology and nursing. You name it, and it’s probably offered in the program.”

Palmer agrees, claiming that if someone enjoys management, they should consider the field of construction. “These jobs are so rewarding and pay well, and not everything requires a college degree,” he says. “And the great thing is, you can be paid while you learn on the job.”

Brown still remembers a statistic presented at a conference five years ago: For every 10 students, the U.S. needs one with a master’s degree, two with a four-year degree, and the remaining seven with trade skills.

“This is not happening today,” she continues. “This is why I’ve changed my approach to helping kids with their future plans.”

At the 2022 National Construction Industry Workforce Summit, Associated General Contractors of America representatives from each state met to brainstorm ideas for increasing recruitment to the construction workforce. A summary of one breakout session, “Engaging the Future Workforce through School-to-Work Experiences,” points to tactics such as youth outreach, paid teacher externships, social responsibility and skills competitions.

It pays to work in a skilled trade

In 2022-2023, the average cost of in-state tuition at a public college or university was $10,940 per year, according to College Board’s annual “Trends in College Pricing and Student Aid” report. Out-of-state students attending a public four-year college averaged $28,240 per year. These figures make a career in the trades for Utah high school graduates even more attractive, as companies like Layton Construction and Hunt Electric provide on-the-job training or reimburse students for tuition and fees.

Jake Monson, a 22-year-old from Highland, Utah, sees the opportunity and is pursuing a career in electrical. “I started working for a small residential electrical company owned by one of my neighbors about a year ago,” he says. “I love working with my hands, so this is a great fit for me. I love finishing a project, standing back and realizing, ‘I built that.’”

Aircraft maintenance is one of the most needed and best-paid trade occupations, but it has flown under the radar. High retirement rates and the surge in post-pandemic travel have quickly increased the need for certified aircraft maintenance technicians.

“The first thing I want everyone to know is that women are paid the same as men in this industry,” says Todd Baird, an associate professor in the aviation maintenance program at SLCC. “It’s always been that way, and it will always be that way.”

Besides pay equity, Baird points to other financial rewards for joining the industry. Many airlines and aircraft companies pay all licensing fees for new hires, which can cost upwards of $1,500. Signing bonuses and tuition reimbursements are also common.

“I’ve seen people get anywhere from $5,000-$20,000 just for signing on, and aircraft mechanics can make $120,000 per year,” Baird says. “It’s a great career.”

Photo cred: Salt Lake Community College

Hailey Brohamer

Opportunities for women

In April, Aja Heims graduated from SLCC’s two-year aircraft maintenance program. She expects to make a starting wage of $30 per hour as a fully licensed technician.

“Being an aircraft mechanic opens up many, many doors,” Heims says, who is one of the few women in her graduating class. “You can get a job anywhere else simply because you’re licensed to work on aircraft. This is the only maintenance field where you’re required to be certified and licensed to do this work. With that federal license, you’re able to work on any kind of engine or machine.”

Hailey Brohamer is a Copper Hills High School graduate whose petite frame and girl-next-door vibe belies her occupation as a licensed diesel technician. She’s the third generation in her family to take this career path, which she describes as the hardest and most rewarding thing she’s ever done.

“I’m not as strong as the men I work with, so I have to get creative with how I move an engine, for example,” Brohamer says. “I have to think outside of the box a lot. I’ve proved to myself that I’m capable of a lot more than I think.”

Brohamer’s advice for other women who like technical jobs? “Look into the trades.”

At the SLCC naming ceremony, guest speaker and student welder Katie Poulsen described being welcomed into the program with open arms.

“My experience at SLCC has been one of the best experiences of my life, and I hope to one day be an instructor here myself,” Poulsen said. “Something about flipping my hood down and watching the weld going in is just peaceful to me. Any stress or chaotic things going on in my life are forgotten when I have my hood down. To me, welding is my tranquility in life.”

As the ceremony was winding down, I had the opportunity to chat with Senator Mayne, who was seated in a wheelchair and weak from her battle with breast cancer. Her voice was firm in conviction but soft in delivery. She gripped my hand tightly with both of hers. With bright eyes, she told me, “We need to get the word out there. There are great jobs in the trades. They are what will keep this great state progressing.”

She reiterated the need for women in the workforce, lamenting the many women whose marriages end and who find themselves wondering how they’ll support themselves and their children with no work experience.

“Jobs in the trades are there for them,” Mayne said, and with that, she was wheeled down the hallway. A trail of blue and yellow balloons bounced gently behind her, a symbol of the trail she has blazed for all the future students who will learn and dream in the labs that bear her name.