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Rainbows are disappearing at BYU in an atmosphere of fear surrounding LGBTQ+ support

LDS Church school isn’t saying they’re forbidden, and the symbols still can be spotted on campus.

The 2021 display lighting up the mountainside “Y” in rainbow colors may have been the first — and most visible — shot in a battle over the LGBTQ+ symbol at Brigham Young University.

A year later, the flagship school, owned and operated by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, responded by cracking down on LGBTQ+ campus protests on “Rainbow Day” and blocking unapproved access to the trail to prevent it from happening again.

Individual rainbow stickers, insignia and flags on faculty doors, bulletin boards and on backpacks at the Provo school began slowly to disappear as anti-LGBTQ+ sentiment spread — though they still can be spotted from time to time.

(Rick Egan | The Salt Lake Tribune) Bulletin boards in the halls of the College of Humanities in the Joseph F. Smith Building at Brigham Young University, on Friday, Feb 28, 2025.

It all galvanized then-BYU student Maddison Tenney into action.

Sitting at her computer on the night of the Y lighting, Tenney launched a movement she called the “RaYnbow Collective” to “identify and create safe spaces for LGBTQ+ students and connect them to affirming community resources.” She facilitated “belonging” workshops on campus to help marginalized students feel welcome.

Two years ago, Tenney was a part-time employee in the human relations arm of BYU’s Office of Information Technology, which was planning a party for St. Patrick’s Day.

To publicize the employees’ celebration, Tenney’s team was tasked with designing posters. They crafted one that included a leprechaun, a pot of gold, and, of course, a rainbow.

Therein lay the problem.

(Maddison Tenney) BYU alum Maddison Tenney says the school has a sort of "don't ask, don't tell" approach when it comes to displaying rainbow symbols.

Spying these posters in the building, the head of the IT department removed them, destroyed them and canceled the party, Tenney says. It could have been, she wonders, the result of speeches by Clark Gilbert, the church’s commissioner of education and overseer of all BYU campuses, who began warning administrators and faculty that public support for LGBTQ+ rights was contrary to church doctrine.

The IT director (who has since retired) says through BYU spokesperson Carri Jenkins that “he had some concerns about the proposed event.”

The man sent an email to the disappointed employees explaining his action and that he was worried about “the appearance of evil,” Tenney recalls, and that some might confuse the Irish rainbow with support for LGBTQ+ rights. According to Jenkins, he says “he did not use that language.”

Tenney says the team members, many of whom were supportive of her LGBTQ+ efforts, were told “not to include any sort of signs or symbols that could express disconnect with BYU’s policies.”

BYU responds

When asked if BYU forbids rainbow flags, symbols or other images, Jenkins did not answer directly but said in a statement that “all members of our campus community have a shared first identity as sons and daughters of God. Our focus is on these three enduring designations as outlined by [church] President Russell M. Nelson … child of God, child of the covenant and disciple of Jesus Christ.”

These days, legislative efforts have arisen across the nation to ban pride flags in public schools and on government property. This past week, the Utah Legislature also adopted such a prohibition.

BYU is a private religious university and can do whatever it wants with insignia. Still, observers say, it has been slowly eliminating anything that suggested LGBTQ+ support and distancing itself from the symbol for some years.

There is no straightforward policy banning rainbows and other diversity, equity and inclusion symbols on campus, Tenney says, but there has been an “unwritten policy” passed from department to department — a sort of “don’t ask, don’t tell.”

“This all has the effect of inducing fear,” says a professor, who asked not to be named for fear of retribution. “I had [a rainbow sticker] on my backpack, but it fell off. It wasn’t a conscious decision to take it off, but I haven’t put it back on.”

That is a shame, says Allison Dayton, founder of Lift + Love, a support group for Latter-day Saint LGBTQ+ members, their families and friends.

“As a parent of a gay child who recently graduated from BYU, I can tell you that rainbow stickers and signs mean everything to these children,” Dayton says. “Our LGBTQ kids are constantly hearing messages that they are not welcome at ‘the Lord’s University,’ but a sticker on a water bottle or teacher’s door lets them know they are valued and loved.”

Her son “was grateful for every teacher who tried to show him he was loved,” she says. “Rainbow stickers are not an act of rebellion to these kids; they are a symbol of hope and love.”

(Allison Dayton) Lift + Love founder Allison Dayton says “rainbow stickers are not an act of rebellion ... they are a symbol of hope and love.”

Not just a battle over symbols

Even before the “Y” lighting, the conflict over LGBTQ+ issues had been building up.

In 2020, the university quietly removed a section of the strict Honor Code banning “all forms of physical intimacy that give expression to homosexual feelings.”

LGBTQ+ students celebrated, kissing in front of statues and holding hands. Many reported coming out as gay because they believed — and were told by some Honor Code staffers — that the school now allowed such public displays.

Several weeks later, though, administrators clarified the school’s stance, reiterating that same-sex romantic behavior is still “not compatible” with university rules.

Then came Gilbert, who added a requirement that faculty members have a “testimony” of the church’s teachings on “marriage, family and gender” — including its opposition to same-sex marriage — a demand that goes beyond what the Utah-based faith expects of its 17.2 million members worldwide.

During Gilbert’s tenure, apostle Jeffrey R. Holland’s hotly disputed “musket” speech — in which he admonished faculty to take up metaphorical arms in defense of the faith’s opposition to same-sex marriage — became required reading for all incoming freshmen.

Ben Schilaty, an openly gay staffer in BYU’s Honor Code Office, says he felt supported and even praised for his public embrace of his identity while following Latter-day Saint standards — until Gilbert arrived.

He did have a rainbow ring, watchband and a pillow in his office, he says, “that students would hug when they were nervous and nobody [in the administration] said anything about them”

Eventually, though, Schilaty says he felt pressure under Gilbert’s leadership to keep quiet about being LGBTQ+ and took a job instead at nearby Utah Valley University.

Meanwhile, the Honor Code, which calls on students to “live a chaste and virtuous life,” now includes the following sentence: “Living a chaste and virtuous life also includes abstaining from same-sex romantic behavior.”

BYU’s own survey showed that 74% of its students in 2021 reported that they have experienced or witnessed derogatory remarks about LGBTQ+ people.

What images are — or are not — OK?

After the St. Patrick’s Day dustup, Tenney and her peers began researching in an effort to avoid any images that could be deemed offensive or against school principles.

Their list eventually grew to more than 200 symbols, dating back decades, and she became obsessed with finding items from extremist groups, including distinctive clothing worn by men who harassed the RaYnbow Collective at LGBTQ+ protests.

Tenney, who graduated in 2023 and is now studying at Harvard Divinity School, says she observed BYU employees wearing similar attire to their jobs in the IT building. She says she felt threatened.

A battle for the hallway

(Rick Egan | The Salt Lake Tribune) Bulletin boards in the halls of the College of Humanities in the Joseph F. Smith Building at Brigham Young University, on Friday, Feb 28, 2025. Rainbow symbols still can be spotted on campus.

Last fall, BYU’s Office of Belonging gave a departmental workshop, according to an attendee who didn’t want his name used for fear of retribution, where participants were told not to use rainbows because they were “too divisive.”

A couple of years ago, along a hall in the humanities building, rainbows could be found on faculty doors and bulletin boards, according to several professors. The stickers were ripped off and replaced three times, and cameras caught culprits in the act each time.

Though the thieves were “defacing school property,” Tenney believes they were never charged.”

At the same time, BYU administrators warned members of the RaYnbow Collective, she says, that if they put any more stickers on campus, they would be prosecuted for “defacing school property.”

Tenney and others believe that the rejection of the rainbow, which she views as a symbol of inclusion and welcome, is a sad reality at a school that should be known for its Christ-centered behavior.

“The rainbow is widely recognized in the LGBTQ+ community as a symbol of belonging and shared humanity,” says Gracee Purcell, former head of the RaYnbow Collective.

“For a school that promotes love and has an office dedicated to belonging, it’s surprising — though not entirely unexpected for those of us who’ve been paying attention — that they’d prohibit such a symbol,” Purcell says. “Perhaps it’s time for BYU to do a values check, or maybe exclusion of the LGBTQ+ community has always been a core part of their values, as history and current practices suggest.”

Many faculty have used rainbow images to let students like Dayton’s son know it is safe to talk with them about their attractions.

“A sticker like that,” Purcell says, “could help kids find understanding professors.”

If faculty members can pin up the church’s family proclamation on their door — which, she says, can send an “opposite message” to LGBTQ+ students — why not a rainbow?

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