During my first semester at UCCS four years ago, I took a VAPA class called Arts Innovations. The class explored artists from different disciplines who changed their field with groundbreaking new work, from music to performance art.
One day, my teacher posed a dichotomy to us: there is a difference between authenticity and sincerity. Authenticity only needs to mean that the piece is a genuine product of the artist, while sincerity dictates that the meaning behind the piece is true to the artist’s beliefs and the core of who they are. “Does art need to be both authentic and sincere?” she asked us.
That teacher was Haleh Abghari, and she was both. She was who she was, and she meant it.
On Aug. 7, Haleh was killed in a cruel, despicable act of violence, made even more senseless in contrast to the kindness, intentionality and dedication she displayed in her work and in her classroom.
As one of the first teachers I ever had at UCCS, Haleh’s class could have made or broken my first semester, and, looking back, it’s the class I remember most clearly because of how sincerely and precisely she taught. Her force and passion were evident in every one of her lectures and assignments. She chose all her material with deep care, allowing her excitement about these artists to pour forth and excite us, too.
She threaded her own vast experience through her lessons, from her background growing up in Iran to her years studying with György Kurtág in Hungary. She went out of her way to bring guest artists from her own work into her Ethnomusicology class to connect us directly to the work. I only got to hear her sing once over Zoom to accompany a guest artist’s drumming, but the clarity of her tone and beauty of her voice transcended the Zoom delay as she improvised to the beat.
Haleh was one of the most genuine teachers I have ever had, and one of the artists I admire most. She never fronted with us or held back on feedback when we needed it. A compliment from Haleh was gold, a critique was a seed for growth, and she put her heart into both. She was blessed with honesty, compassion and an innate sense of justice, inside of the classroom and out of it.
Haleh poured her intensity and drive into causes she believed in, which was clearest to many of us right after the Feb. 16 dorm shooting. She became one of the biggest voices on campus to enact stricter gun laws, from meeting with university leaders to attending congressional meetings and votes in Denver.
It is a direct and foul affront to everything Haleh stood for to have her life taken from her by violence. If this had happened to anyone else, she would have been the first to demand justice and compassion for the victim, their family and UCCS as a whole, as she demonstrated to us clearly and firmly this last year.
Haleh would also be the first to remind the rest of us that the work doesn’t stop here. I can think of no better way to honor and raise up her name than continuing to fight for peace, fight for justice and fight for each other.
Continuing Haleh’s mission means that we work together to keep the campus safe, put laws in place that protect our students and use art as a weapon against oppression and injustice in all its forms. In doing so, we keep her voice alive to sing a song for a better world.
Haleh’s memorial site is available for anyone who knew her to leave a tribute or a memory, and to read the other tributes and memories of her loved ones, including teachers and students.