Copyright Salt Lake Tribune
This story is jointly published by nonprofits Amplify Utah and The Salt Lake Tribune to elevate diverse perspectives in local media through student journalism. A documentary that focuses on Indigenous stewardship of the Great Salt Lake is the latest artwork that highlights the lake’s declining levels — and, filmmakers say, it’s also a cry for Utah leaders to listen to Indigenous voices who believe the issue has been “scienced to death.” “Diverted: Indigenous Stewardship and Saving Great Salt Lake” has been two years in the making, marked by reshoots and the personal struggles of balancing work, families and daily life. It will screen Thursday, Nov. 20, at the Utah Film Center, 375 W. 400 North, Salt Lake City. Director and producer Valene Peratrovich said she initially got involved with the project after co-producers McCaulee Blackburn and Cristian Martinez asked her to do voice-over work for the documentary, which was still in pre-production, and later invited her to attend planning meetings. At first, Peratrovich said, she and the crew were amateurs who had no idea what they were doing. “We just knew what we cared about, and that really taught us that you don’t need perfect and you don’t need to be an expert,” Peratrovich said. “If the intention is true, and the heart is there, everything else will grow from that.” The documentary focuses on Indigenous voices and Indigenous peoples’ traditional connections and ecological knowledge to save the lake, Peratrovich said. Interviews with Darren Parry, former Northwestern Shoshone Nation chairman; Carl Moore, a member of the Hopi, Chemehuevi, and Colorado River Indian Tribes; and Elizabeth Kronk Warner, dean of the University of Utah’s law school, bring the threads of the story together onscreen. “I was super passionate about it because I am Indigenous myself,” said Peratrovich, who is Tlingit (Eagle Clan), Unangan and Athabascan, from the Anchorage, Alaska, area. “I was raised really to believe in my people, in my culture, understanding all the positive and negative things that have impacted us as people, and really using it to push the culture forward, advocate for my people and really amplify our voices.” Making a documentary ‘ain’t cheap’ Peratrovich led the crew of two producers, Blackburn and Martinez, whom she met in 2022 while studying journalism at Salt Lake Community College. They initially worked on the documentary as a passion project outside of the classroom, but they later pitched it for a documentary class at the college. They premiered a first cut of the film through the school in December 2023. In 2024, “Diverted” received a Rocky Mountain Student Emmy and a Bloomberg Art Philanthropies grant from the Salt Lake City Arts Council. Andrew Shaw, special projects coordinator for the Salt Lake City Arts Council, runs Wake the Great Salt Lake, a temporary public art project funded by Bloomberg Art Philanthropies to educate and inspire people about saving Utah’s capital-city namesake. Salt Lake City was one of eight cities to receive the $1 million grant from the philanthropic fund. The money was divided amongst several art projects and artists, and it funded murals, photo exhibitions and performance art. Shaw said he believes the documentary has the potential to be seen and make an impact at film festivals across the country and around the world. “This film has such great potential … as a good depiction of a community caring about the water and the natural resources around them,” he said. Peratrovich said their $10,000 portion of the grant was really helpful. “We’re going to be able to afford to enter into film festivals,” she said, though they’re not sure which festivals will accept the movie. “It’s not free, it ain’t cheap, so we’re very lucky for their support.” Shaw said he’s been impressed by the crew’s approach to the film, finding the right people to interview and showcasing how communities can find solutions together. Screening the film, he added, will mark the beginning of something great for added awareness about the lake and its connection to some of Utah’s Indigenous communities. “Artists have a way of touching people’s hearts in a way that the data doesn’t,” Shaw said. “Data shows us what’s going wrong and helps us really get into the weeds, but art can show a much bigger picture and can be much more accessible to a wider audience.” Still, as a grassroots project, the documentary faced several obstacles – from the technical to new laws – during shooting and post-production, Peratrovich said. “I looked at it as each barrier or obstacle or hurdle was presented in getting this film done and completed,” she added. “It really was always a checkpoint: are you dedicated to the story?” The first iteration of the documentary wrapped while the crew were still students at SLCC, giving them access to classrooms and other filming resources. Peratrovich said she took specific classes just to be able to use certain equipment, like drones, to keep moving the project forward. A setback for ‘personhood’ The crew took a blow in 2024, when the Utah Legislature passed HB 249, banning governmental entities from granting personhood to bodies of water. The idea of giving a natural resource personhood, or granting the same legal rights as a human, comes from Indigenous practices and a worldwide environmental personhood movement. (In 2014, New Zealand’s Te Urewera Act gave a forested area a legal identity to protect its natural and cultural value. New Zealand’s bill acknowledges Te Urewera as an ancient, spiritual and living forest with distinct Indigenous history and importance.) Losing that personhood law hit hard for Peratrovich, she said, because bestowing personhood on natural resources allows people to sue on behalf of that resource if they believe its rights are being violated. “It was a punch in the gut,” she said, adding that the filmmakers were hopeful that they could get personhood for the Great Salt Lake. The crew persisted, though, and the film now includes an update at the end, including the information about the personhood ban. Earlier this year, the crew screened the film at a “work in progress” session through the Utah Documentary Association. Peratrovich said the crew was shocked by some viewers’ reactions, that the film didn’t feature enough Indigenous voices. The crew, Peratrovich said, realized they needed to go back and help people understand what it means to be Indigenous and to help break long-standing stereotypes. “I think many people see Indigenous folks as people that are in traditional regalia [or] elders,” Peratrovich said. “As a director and an Indigenous woman, I’m very much right here right now, and I may not look the way you think a native person should look. And that’s an interesting thing, too.” The filmmakers went back through their footage of interviewees explaining their Indigenous experience, and made sure to ask other participants on film to share their definition of what it means to be Indigenous. “In order to make this conversation and help it go along, we’ll go to wherever we need to and grow and develop that part of the film,” Peratrovich said. It’s motivating, she said, to know people are “thirsty” to hear from Indigenous voices. “People are excited to hear indigenous voices,” she said, “and they really helped wake us up to what we need to shine a light on. … When it comes to sharing Indigenous stories, Indigenous ecological knowledge, and Indigenous issues and challenges.” That’s the hope, she added – that people see and hear different perspectives so the whole community can work together to find ways to save the lake. It won’t be just one entity or a single person with a solution. “I hope this plant seeds — seeds of understanding, seeds of hope and bridges,” Peratrovich said. “Seeds to build bridges and communities, so that we reach out to each other and consider each other’s perspective and how we can work together.”
