Three women. One crown. Zero unity.
SALT LAKE CITY — May 15, 2025 — What began as a formal gala to honor leaders in homelessness advocacy ended in tension, awkward silences, and one quietly abandoned crown, after three rival nonprofit founders clashed during the Salt Lake Homeless Impact Awards, held Thursday evening at the Edison Street Collective event space.
The gala, attended by more than 200 guests, was intended to be a celebration of “compassion in action” and featured live jazz, catered finger foods, and an award ceremony to crown one woman as the so-called “Queen of the Homeless.” But as the evening unfolded, it became clear that the nominees, each running competing organizations, were less interested in unity and more invested in their own vision of what help looks like.
By the end of the night, the award went unclaimed, and the real spotlight had shifted to the dysfunction among Salt Lake’s own outreach community.
Three Nominees, Three Philosophies
Shaniqua “Mama Brick”, founder of Stand Up Straight, is known across Salt Lake’s encampments as a no-nonsense enforcer with a deeply personal stake. Formerly unhoused herself with an addiction problem, she credits her turnaround to one moment of clarity: seeing the pain in her children’s eyes and realizing something had to change.
Today, she spends her days doing the work most organizations outsource, checking in on people, calling ambulances, cleaning up trash, and delivering pointed lectures to those who’ve received housing but continue destructive habits. “You’ve got four walls now? Then act like it. Don’t let your past walk through the front door,” she said recently.
Though she’s highly respected in some circles, she’s openly critical of the city and deeply suspicious of fellow outreach workers. “I don’t hand out hugs and hashtags,” she said. “And I sure as hell don’t take selfies at tent sites.”
Luna “Rainbow” Lee, founder of HomeFree Beauty, sees her role very differently. With a background in digital storytelling and a heart full of poetic defiance, Luna views the unhoused as “non-conformists.” Her nonprofit produces stylized black-and-white portraits of homeless individuals—carefully composed images that highlight their beauty, dignity, and humanity.
“I want the world to see what I see,” she said. “They are resilient, radiant, and worthy of being seen beyond their circumstances.”
She raises money through social media to fund temporary housing and personal care items, and brings unhoused individuals to public events to “reclaim space.” Critics claim she romanticizes homelessness. Others go further, accusing her of blurred boundaries with vulnerable individuals. She denies all allegations, calling them “the cost of disrupting the status quo.”
Patricia Cox “Sister Patience” , founder of Souls Over Shelters, came into advocacy through faith. After selling everything she owned, she now lives modestly and dedicates her time to evangelizing among the homeless. She walks downtown handing out food, Bibles, and reminders that “spiritual poverty is the root of all other poverty.”
She’s tried to mobilize local churches but says too many are more interested in Christmas drives than actual ministry. She remains convinced that recovery without faith is like shelter without walls. “You can get someone clean,” she said, “but are they whole?”
Of the other two nominees, she’s less than charitable. “Luna’s out there chasing likes on social media,” she said. “And Mama Brick acts like salvation can be shouted into someone.”
A Gala Unraveled
Mama Brick arrived first, dressed in a deep red gown and rhinestone-studded boots ready for the red carpet. Luna followed, surrounded by four guests at varying degrees of consciousness and bodily odor as well as interesting fashion choices. When security hesitated to let them in, Luna live streamed the moment under the caption: “They tried to stop the community from entering. We entered anyway.”
Sister Patience arrived last, quietly dressed in gray and carrying a battered Bible. She handed out laminated cards with handwritten scripture verses before taking a seat near the back, declining the wine and canapés.
Despite the event’s hopeful tone, the tension among the three women was unmistakable. Mama Brick reportedly referred to Luna as “an influencer playing dress-up in other people’s lives.” Luna, who has built a significant following through her portraits and advocacy, responded by telling a table of donors, “Shaniqua thinks love makes people weak. But some of us are trying to lift people up, not bark them into sobriety.” Sister Patience, seated nearby, quietly warned another guest, “Charity without truth is just performance. And pride comes dressed in many outfits.”
As the emcee began introducing the award, the room was interrupted by a fourth voice.
Enter the Podcaster
Kyle Baxter, creator of the Voices of the Homeless podcast and director of a recent documentary critiquing homelessness policy in Utah, stepped forward from the back row. Though not a nominee, Baxter has interviewed more than 100 unhoused individuals and is outspoken about government failure, what he calls “the homeless industrial complex,” and the misuse of philanthropic funds.
“I wasn’t nominated because I’m a white male,” he said. “But I’ve done the work. I’ve told the truth. And I’m still here, listening.”
He pulled a crumpled note from his pocket. “Where is the equity in our inclusion?” he asked. “Where is the inclusion in our equity? And where, I ask you, is the diversity?”
Security approached, but he exited before they reached him. One attendee applauded. Another asked if he had a Substack.
A Missing Crown and an Unspoken Truth
The award was never presented. The ceremonial crown custom-ordered from an Etsy seller who specializes in “glamorous resilience” was last seen on a back table between a tray of beyond meat sliders and a stack of outreach brochures.
As the room began to thin out, the evening took one final turn.
One of the lesser-known mayoral candidates, dressed in a purple velvet suit and matching hat, unexpectedly grabbed the microphone. Without prompting or introduction, he launched into a meandering speech promoting communal land ownership, denouncing Zionism, and blaming Salt Lake’s homelessness crisis on “a city government that prioritizes luxury apartment developments through questionable deals with private developers.”
Security hesitated — unsure whether this was a scheduled speaker or a performance piece — until the man began quoting Marx and shouting, “The revolution begins with rent control!”
He was eventually escorted out while yelling, “You can’t solve homelessness without dismantling capitalism!”
Guests finally trickled out. Some posed for photos with a well-known photojournalist who once won a prestigious award for his haunting image of a homeless man crying behind a dumpster. The image, now printed on mugs, tote bags, and T-shirts, was being sold at the event, “to raise awareness and fund bottled water for the summer homeless drives and events.”
Outside the venue, Salt Lake resident Karen M., who lives near a large encampment in one of Salt Lake’s neighborhoods, offered a weary but candid reflection.
“Yes, they’re human. I get that,” she said. “But it’s hard to feel compassionate when someone’s pooping in your front yard.” She paused, adjusting the leash on her chihuahua. “I mean, I want to care. But I also want to garden without stepping in a biohazard.”
As one of Luna’s companions stumbled out of the venue with a handful of napkins and a box full of paper cups, he offered his own review: “I don’t know who won, but I ate good.” U
* Photo by Taylor Friehl on Unsplash
Editor’s Note: This article is a work of satire and is intended for entertainment and commentary purposes only. While it may reference real places or echo real events, the characters and situations are fictionalized for humor and reflection. At Utah Stories, we believe that sometimes the absurd reveals more truth than the facts alone.
