Local Spotlight

The Guadalupe Learning Center

Teaching the American Dream to immigrants eager to improve their lives.

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“Fighting poverty and providing hope through education” summarizes the Guadalupe Learning Center’s mission. For over forty years the Center has provided a haven for Salt Lake immigrants needing to negotiate a new life in a foreign land. Located at 340 South and 1040 West, it is in the heart of the neighborhood it serves.

From left to right: Aaron, Ethridge, Lupe Ernesto and Luz

On any Tuesday night, floor manager Traci Grant presides. Jam-packed in the classrooms, hallways and stairwells are scores of desks and chairs. Every bit of space in this modest, two-story building is used for learning. Students sit together with volunteer tutors in small groups. Each group represents a miniature “classroom” where the opportunities to interact are maximized. The energy, focus, and enthusiasm are palpable. So is the decibel level.
Kate Diggins has taught at the Guadalupe Center since returning from a Peace Corps assignment in 1992. She now oversees seven teachers and staff, and also teaches three student groups. “It’s important to keep your hand in,” she says, “so you know what your teachers are dealing with.”
Above all, Kate recruits volunteers. The program tries to maintain a two-to-one ratio of students to volunteers, who are the program’s heart and soul. The staff provide the materials and lesson plans, but volunteers make it happen. Kate notes if she had one wish it would be for an “never-ending stream of superlative volunteers–happy, enthusiastic, skilled, and dedicated.”
Kate’s favorite success story is Eugenio Gonzalez from Tijuana, Mexico. Eugenio was 58 when he joined the Guadalupe family, unable to speak English and barely literate. His third grade teacher called him a “burro.” Returning to school was a scary undertaking indeed.
When he started, Eugenio had no home. He slept on a mattress in the auto body shop where he worked. He cycled ten miles to school and back. The Center helped sponsor Eugenio with a TRAX pass, and he attended class faithfully for five years. He graduated from the program at the age of 63. He had gained four language levels and delivered a speech in English at the final ceremony that he wrote and memorized.
As Kate tells it, “It is not always about just English. It’s about feeling empowered. There are seeds of possibility patiently sleeping within each of us.” As Eugenio would say, “Exacto.” §

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  • Whiskey, Bullets & a Buried Town: Archaeologists Reveal Alta’s Wild Past

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    Winter deadlines were approaching. The pipes for the reservoirs had to go in the ground. There wasn’t time for a slow, extended dig.

    “It was two weeks of digging in the dirt and helping figure out exactly what we were looking at,” Little said.

    Most of the people screening soil weren’t professional archaeologists. They were trained stewards from around Utah — part of a statewide volunteer network that now approaches 500 people. They poured dirt through shaker screens, scanning for fragments that could piece together a town long buried.

    “Archaeology is human trash,” Little explained. “Archaeologists are very into trash.”

    Alta had left plenty behind.

    https://youtu.be/hzIHzx3OGoo?si=dKcl2CEz-t6FZzYw

    Victorian-style ceramics appeared first — the kind typically used in hotels. Medicine bottles followed. Ink bottles. Hand-blown glass. A porcelain doll’s foot surfaced from the soil, a small detail that shifted the mental image of the town. Families were here. Children were here. This wasn’t only a camp of miners.

    The bottles helped establish time. Manufacturing details — whether glass was hand-blown or mold-made, whether a maker’s mark appeared on the base — allowed archaeologists to date many of the artifacts to the 1870s through the 1890s, when Alta was booming as a silver mining town.

    “That gives you that range of dates for when Alta was really booming,” Little said.

    One reusable soda bottle clearly stamped “Salt Lake City” connected the canyon to the valley economy below.

    Then something unusual rolled out of a dirt pile.

    A corked bottle. Intact. Liquid still inside.

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