Our butterfly and bee. Margarita Satini created infinite butterfly effects for social change. I first met Margarita in June when she offered to take me under her wing and collaborate on an energy efficiency project for Utah's vulnerable communities. She was conscious of every detail, even down to the labels: "I don't want to just call them 'low-income.' They're vulnerable communities that need help and shouldn't be defined solely by their financial situation."
The amount of tireless effort she put into our project alone convinced me it must be her only commitment, but she had so many more responsibilities. Between COVID-19 relief work, her leadership within the Pacific Islander community, and efforts to bring awareness and to eradicate racism through policy change, she made time to meet with me weekly. She showed up for every meeting with a contagious smile and laugh, a "let's get it done" mentality and irreplicable comfort and guidance that allowed me to navigate the scary world of activism as a woman of color.
Her love ran deep for her community. It was displayed in her brilliance; she saw the connection between health and socioeconomic disparities, environmentalism and racism. She had solutions for it all. She had many unfinished dreams for her community, dreams she was eager to bring to life to benefit her fellow residents. The changes she helped foster will continue to multiply for years to come.
Margarita floated like a butterfly and stung like a bee. She was delicate in the care she continuously displayed for her community, yet fierce in her advocacy as she buzzed around Utah looking for the next issue to tackle. Ironically, she died trying to protect her community from the devastating effects of COVID, like a bee does after its last sting. It was her way of fighting to defend herself and the people for whom she cared so deeply.
Before she left us, Margarita traveled every corner of Utah, bestowing her graceful touch of support to everyone and everything she touched, including the roses of Rose Park that she so treasured. Her imprint on the west side community is everywhere, especially among the youth she mentored and inspired.
The Salt Lake Valley is Margarita's garden. She was the ever bee whose tireless efforts engendered positive change–both large and small–for everyone to enjoy. The fruits of her labor will continue to generate and sustain progress for years to come.
By Mahider Tadesse
Irreplaceable force for justice. It is difficult to put into words Margarita’s impact, but as you can see from the outpouring of support from individuals, community groups, political leaders, and others, she is leaving a community united in love, joy, and a demand for change.
Margarita joined the Sierra Club as a community organizer less than two years ago, but the work and impact she had on our team, and the community, will last forever. One day before her passing, Margarita joined our weekly team call. While we were elated, we met her with “go rest.” She didn’t want to fall too far behind or miss too much. This speaks volumes to who Margarita was, a tireless advocate for justice. Her work was rooted in her lived experiences and as she identified as an “unapologetic woman of color” she often expressed that her life has been filled with a need for resilience and absolute fortitude. She fought every day to provide support for the most vulnerable people in our community, to assuage the grief caused by the same disease that ultimately took her life.
She epitomized intersectional environmentalism, eliminating the imaginary lines between environmental and social justice, while pushing the boundaries of what is possible in Utah. She infused the work with her expertise and political savvy, which resulted in collective strategies engaging unlikely bedfellows to advance solutions to injustices in our communities.
During this past year, Margarita dove headfirst into COVID-19 relief work to ensure people and communities were not stifled by politically-motivated budget cuts. She advocated for fair and equitable access to energy efficiency and clean energy, organized efforts to demand communities recognize racism as a public health crisis, ensured people knew where/when/how to receive COVID-19 resources, and made certain everyone knew the importance of the 2020 Census.
Over the years she worked on numerous political campaigns and constantly inspired people to move their butts to GET OUT AND VOTE. She ran for political office in Cottonwood Heights, running on a platform of addressing police brutality, an issue with which she and her family had personal experience. She stood in solidarity with Black and Brown bodies and was a fierce advocate for the Movement for Black Lives, organizing COVID-safe actions that facilitated much-needed community dialogue to reshape our ideals for public safety and leadership.
Margarita’s work was fluid. She was an organizer not only by profession but by nature. She founded and led the Utah Pacific Islander Civic Engagement Coalition, which included monthly Pasifika writing events to advance Pacific Islander voices in the media; she led COVID-19 response and resource efforts for the community. The Saturday before her passing she moderated a virtual event from her sickbed, urging members of the Pacific Islander community to get out and vote safely in this time of crisis. She gave all of herself to her community, a debt that will never be repaid.
Margarita graced us with her spirit and leadership; we were lucky to have her on our team. Margarita’s body of work belonged to her and her community and the Sierra Club was lucky to share in that work and in her life.
The impact she leaves is one of unfinished progress, rooted in incremental and hard-won victories. She built a foundation of community momentum to dismantle systems of oppression and forge a path forward for collective justice. She is gone, but we will not stop pushing and fighting for what Margarita stood for.
She was a warrior, as fierce in love for her fellow human as she was in anger for the injustice she fought so hard to heal. Her fight is our fight. We will never be able to understand why she was taken from us too soon, but we will always keep her fire in our bellies and honor her with our actions and our love for one another.
By Carly Ferro
