Utah might be trying to shut down rainbow expression, but Salt Lake City just pulled a power move — and it’s flying high. In a dazzling flex of municipal creativity, the city has adopted three new flags designed to sidestep the state’s controversial ban on Pride, trans, and Juneteenth flags at public buildings.
Mayor Erin Mendenhall and the Salt Lake City Council voted Tuesday night to unveil the new symbols, each subtly incorporating the city’s official flag design while celebrating marginalized communities the state law tried to erase. One flag honors the LGBTQ community, another shines a spotlight on trans residents, and the third celebrates Black history and Juneteenth.
So why the remix? In March, Utah lawmakers passed legislation barring any flag not pre-approved by the state from flying at schools and government buildings — a move widely seen as targeting Pride and progress flags that had become visible symbols of inclusion in progressive enclaves like Salt Lake.
But Salt Lake didn’t roll over. Instead, it got strategic. By embedding these messages of pride and resistance into sanctioned city flag designs, officials are threading the legal needle while sending a loud and clear message: we’re not erasing anyone.

Resistance in the Form of Fabric
“These flags reflect our shared humanity and the values that help everyone feel they belong — no matter their background, orientation or beliefs,” said City Council Chair Chris Wharton. And in Mayor Mendenhall’s words, “Our city flags are powerful symbols… I want all Salt Lakers to be able to look up at these flags and be reminded that we value inclusion and acceptance.”
The new flags — dubbed the Sego Belonging, Visibility, and Celebration Flags — incorporate Utah’s state flower, the sego lily, in their designs. But they also incorporate the unmistakable hues of the Pride, trans, and Pan-African flags in clever, legally-safe arrangements. Think: civic symbolism meets queer-coded defiance.
Utah’s Law: Thinly Veiled Politics
The state law goes into effect this week and fines local buildings $500 per day for flying any unauthorized flags. Despite Governor Spencer Cox’s claims of “love” for the LGBTQ community, he allowed the bill to become law without a signature, saying he supported neutrality in public schools — a term that’s become political code for silencing LGBTQ visibility.
His letter acknowledged the bill “went too far” but failed to veto it. His words of support for LGBTQ Utahns, sincere or not, do little to reverse the impact: another swipe at queer inclusion under the guise of policy neutrality.
But Salt Lake City’s response proves something critical: when a government body wants to stand with its LGBTQ residents, it finds a way. These flags may be new, but the message is timeless — pride, resistance, and resilience can’t be legislated away.
While conservatives try to stuff queerness back in the closet, Salt Lake City is redesigning the whole house.