Ay. Dios. Mío. It has been a year, mi gente. A long year, filled with hundreds of Arizona Luminaria stories. Reporters spent time in our communities trying to understand what you are facing at a moment in history when news can feel like an onslaught of hurried information.
As a local nonprofit newsroom, we worked hard to invest in in-depth news stories that shed light on wrongdoing and injustice or on our neighbors finding ways to support and serve one another.
We have a lot to be grateful for this year. In September, the Arizona Press Club honored Arizona Luminaria with the Community News Outlet of the Year award, capping a banner year of recognition that included awards for Spanish-language news reporting, political reporting excellence, and journalist of the year honors.
In February, we will celebrate Arizona Luminaria’s fourth birthday of publishing Southern Arizona news stories in Spanish and English. We have a team of amazing journalists who want nothing more than to continue the privilege of sharing your stories. Still, sometimes it feels like we’re not doing enough. But I think that feeling has driven every Arizona Luminaria reporter to go out and meet more people and find more untold stories.
We are grateful for your support as readers, donors, members and friends. Please remember: You are our extra set of eyes and ears in your communities. Please keep reaching out with story ideas, tips and issues we need to dig deeper into. Please keep reading and caring. See you in 2026!
— Dianna M. Náñez, Executive Editor and Co-founder
Choosing just a handful of Arizona Luminaria stories from 2025 is not an easy task. Each one represents people who trusted our local reporters with their experiences. Arizona Luminaria reporters continued to investigate abuses of power, elevate local voices and illuminate the places where a community was asking for change.
For this look back, each journalist selected some stories that meant the most to them — stories that helped explain complex challenges, revealed long-standing issues, highlighted people working toward solutions or simply captured moments that might have gone unseen.
Please enjoy this collection of Arizona Luminaria favorites from 2025 and gracias for being part of the work that makes them possible.
Shannon Conner’s favorites
Arizona Luminaria at its best: The Point in Time count and what it means when this newsroom documents one day in the life of OUR community. This was one of the stories that moved me as a reader in the before times (when I did not work here.) It IS Luminaria! It made visible to our audience, the humans we see every day. There are the helpers, yes. And also those who are just trying to make it through today, a single day.
We meet them in the story at a converted RV, at city parks, washes and waking up in the 100-Acre Wood Bike Park. We see their half-eaten burritos, calloused and cracked hands hovering over a fire, the tamalera likely used the night before.
The level of detail and the voices who make the parks, washes, alleys and paths their home seems especially important to document in a year that began with the count last January and ends with at least three of the mentioned sites no longer available to our unhoused: The 100-acre Wood, Santa Rita Park and Armory Park. Carolina, Mike, John and Yana teamed up to show us this community and this tick tock, day-in-the-life story does that: “Hope is a big thing out here,” Tucson resident Ashley McCarthy said in January. “Give people an option to make something go for their life.”
To practice Spanish in our house, Beatriz Limón’s Instagram news videos are a go-to. Plus it’s distilled news in a fun format by a veteran multimedia journalist who cares deeply about Arizona and its people. Our Spanish comprehension is aided because Arizona Luminaria stories (that we read in English) are her source. We come for the zippy, two-minutes of meaningful content and stay for the fashion: Beatriz in bright red glasses, pearls dangling from her ears, all accessories on-point. She invites us into the video, pouring coffee from her French press or watering her house plants. The engaging delivery is fun and the pace requires our family to watch more than once!
The reformation of “Emily’s Law” started with a question from reporter Chelsea Curtis. It ended with an amendment to the law that now includes a broader group, changing who a Turquoise Alert applies to. Chelsea’s work is a testament to what journalists aspire to: Holding truth to power and creating real change.
In covering the aftermath of 14-year-old Emily Pike’s murder, Chelsea asked a lawmaker why the law — which triggers an alert for missing people under age 65 — is being named after Emily when it would not have helped the San Carlos Apache teen who was labeled a runaway in early 2025. The common sense question goes to the heart of Chelsea’s fearless reporting: Why? In establishing this missing alert system, the Legislature initially did not include those under age 18. Gov. Katie Hobbs signed the amended bill into law in May. Chelsea’s inquiry of state authorities and keen listening to Emily’s family and Tribal citizens, sustained this story throughout 2025. She continues to raise questions about the Turquoise Alert and its use.

Yana Kunichoff’s favorites
The camera is a powerful tool, and when a community loses a photojournalist who used the camera with his whole heart, it leaves a jagged hole. Beatriz Limón’s story about the legacy of Phoenix photojournalist Nick Oza, and the efforts to create new supports for young photography in his memory, shows the lasting impact that good work can do in the world. The story is centered around a mural of Oza painted in 2022 to commemorate his untimely death. In particular, I appreciated that the story wrote about the efforts to build ongoing community and spaces of practice for photojournalists who approach their work with the same sensitivity and mindset as Oza. It’s a reminder of all the ways people hold their grief, and build into the future with it.
Listen to a public discussion about homelessness, and the term mental illness will often be used, a catch-all for suffering that can make it difficult for someone to keep a job, stay in their home or at times speak coherently. How our social systems actually deal with mental illness, however, can be difficult to understand and often takes place behind the closed doors of institutions we can rarely access from the outside. That’s why I appreciated John Washington’s investigation into the county’s Restoration to Competency program. This story is a heartbreaking and essential read that lays out a bitter reality: how Arizona jails have become the state’s default psychiatric wards.
Beatriz Limón’s favorites
One of my favorite stories is “Their foundation begins with the foot: Master farrier equips Indigenous students with skills for life.” It is the portrait of an 85-year-old man who travels and works tirelessly to advance his mission of teaching his students — most of them Indigenous — the art of horseshoeing. It is a deeply inspiring story; a delicate piece filled with love, dignity and hope that leaves a lasting impression on the reader.
But I don’t want to focus on just one story. I want to especially recognize Shannon Conner’s work. As the translator of her writing, I recognize her stories from the very first paragraph, and I’ve always been captivated by her engaging and original way of drawing readers in from the opening line. Her writing is compelling, invites you to keep reading, and builds a genuine connection with the communities she covers.
I have witnessed how Arizona Luminaria’s education section has grown steadily, thoughtfully and beautifully documented — with boldness, rigor and a deep commitment to public service journalism.
Congratulations, Shannon, on such an evident and sustained dedication to local journalism. It is excellent work, done with sensitivity, intelligence and purpose.
Rafael Carranza’s story, “This Arizona county was the ‘model’ for local police carrying out immigration raids. It ended in civil rights violations,” is a clear example of how, when we forget our history, we risk repeating it. Since President Donald Trump returned to office in January, scenes reminiscent of the Joe Arpaio–era raids have multiplied, as ICE has rapidly expanded the 287(g) program.
The way this piece brings the past into the present — grounded in data, thorough documentation, and strong reporting — is the kind of reflective journalism that forces us, as a society, to examine both our successes and our failures. It doesn’t just inform; it provides context, raises alarms and demands historical memory.
Rafael approaches a complex and sensitive subject with depth, clarity and responsibility, reminding us of journalism’s essential role in preventing civil rights violations from becoming normalized or repeated. It is powerful, timely, and necessary work.

John Washington’s favorites
Yana Kunichoff’s documentary, The Last Affordable Housing, on mobile homes shows how aging mobile homes, failing infrastructure, and soaring energy costs leave residents dangerously exposed as temperatures climb. The documentary lands with quiet power, stitching together two crises that are too often treated separately: extreme heat and unaffordable housing. Kunichoff and the AZPM team investigate predatory landlords, life-destroying utility bills, and a regulatory system that too often fails to protect mobile home dwellers. What emerges is not just a portrait of individual suffering, but how there is “an entire ecosystem of housing at risk.”
Crucially, the documentary doesn’t stop at harm. It follows residents organizing, learning their rights and demanding accountability. One of the most poignant scenes — a mock court staged by mobile home advocates — captures the onslaught of obstacles people face as they are pushed out of their homes, often with little recourse.
Kunichoff’s reporting helped spur action from Arizona Attorney General Kris Mayes, following pressure from Poder Casas Móviles, to enforce basic housing laws. It’s journalism that doesn’t only bear witness, but also moved the needle toward justice.
Carolina Cuellar’s story, in collaboration with Olga Loginova of The Margin, Deserted at the Border. The story has stayed with me more than almost anything else from Arizona Luminaria this year. It’s the kind of reporting that pulls you in and doesn’t let go — not because it’s sensational, but because it’s so rooted in the human experience.
The article brings readers into communities long ignored (I barely even knew they existed) showing families navigating blistering heat, unreliable water, failing infrastructure and a climate reality they’re forced to confront every day. What makes the piece so damn good is how much care it takes with the people at its center. Their voices aren’t used as props; they’re heard, respected, and ultimately carry the story’s emotional weight.
You feel the frustration and fear, but also the grit that defines these communities. It’s reporting that refuses to look away and refuses to let the rest of us look away, either. A necessary reminder of who is most affected by Arizona’s changing climate and political neglect — and who we owe our attention to.

Dianna Náñez’s favorites
Rafael Carranza’s reporting for Arizona Luminaria and ProPublica skillfully transports us to remote Southern Arizona borderlands, where we meet people of faith who have long offered aid to migrants crossing deadly desert terrain. Rafael introduces us to Pastor Randy Mayer who has traveled these parts for nearly 25 years seeking to save lives.
Too much reporting about borderlands heightens rhetoric, spurs political divide or devolves into trauma porn about people migrating from around the world risking their lives to find refuge. Rafael was born in México and grew up in Arizona. He has reported stories from the borderlands for 15 years. And it shows in the care he takes in helping people see beyond politics and into the deep history and deeper humanity and motivations around migration.
Rafael’s accountability reporting reveals for readers why one pastor won’t give up on people in need: “Nowhere in my ordination vows did I ever have to say, ‘I will only care for U.S. citizens,’” Mayer says. “I am a pastor of the world. My faith calls me to it.”
We need more reporting from border communities that is rooted in the realities of those who live here and those who migrate here.
Socorro responded to that child: You are smart. “You can read in Spanish and you’re learning to read in English. You’re going to be bilingual.” That’s what Socorro Hernández-Bernasconi said to Beatriz Limón as she spoke of her journey from a nun to a reformer fighting for the rights of Mexican and Pascua Yaqui children segregated in school because of their language. At 83, Socorro is looking back at her life and toward a new generation that is willing to continue the fight for justice.

Beatriz spent time with Socorro and her husband and in reading their story, you feel like you spent time with them too. This is common in Beatriz’s stories. Two paragraphs in and you’re sitting in the room with Beatriz, listening as she creates a space of dignity, respect and trust that helps people feel safe to share their lives with the world.
Talking with, not at, and truly hearing people’s voices and experiences are among the most powerful ways a journalist can better understand others and write stories that truly center our communities. Beatriz knows that, and offers readers a gift as she weaves context and history around the most important moments of someone’s life.
Rafael Carranza’s favorites
Accountability journalism has become a hallmark of Arizona Luminaria’s reporting. And two of my favorite stories this year highlighted excellence in this area. John Washington reported on the Pima County Sheriff’s Department violating its own policy tracking calls to Border Patrol. The story came out of a public records request, which revealed a key piece of information that John pursued further and then held the sheriff’s department to account. The May story received lots of attention and prompted the department to change its rules about one week after the initial story was published. The story and its follow ups made good use of local voices that showed why this story mattered, and of embedding various media elements into the story, including memos, videos and graphics.
I also really enjoyed reading and tracking Chelsea Curtis’ coverage of Emily’s Law, a state law that created a new alert system initially aimed at missing Indigenous people that is now known as a Turquoise Alert. Chelsea’s reporting uncovered several holes in the way that the proposed law was written, including how it would not have helped San Carlos Apache teen Emily Pike and runaway teens because of age restrictions in the language of the text. She continued to scrutinize how the Turquoise Alert is (or not) used, highlighting how more than 300 children have been reported missing since the law took effect in July without triggering more than a single alert. Chelsea’s reporting was cited during the legislative process, and her stories were emulated by other news outlets.
Irene McKisson’s favorites
If it felt like Pima County had an election every month this year, you’re not wrong. I went back and counted how many election guides, backgrounders and results stories Arizona Luminaria reporters Shannon Conner, Carolina Cuellar, Yana Kunichoff, John Washington and Becky Pallack produced in 2025 — 33 in total.
These stories ran across nine months — March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October and November — covering everything from the city’s Proposition 414 tax increase to the congressional special election primary, city council primaries, the special election that sent Adelita Grijalva to Congress, and the city council general and school bond elections. Every one of the guides and results stories was quickly and expertly translated into Spanish by Beatriz Limón, ensuring voters had timely, accessible information at every turn.
The impact was tangible: A bond for Pima County’s largest school district passed for the first time in 30 years, and Shannon’s bond coverage and voter guides were among our most-read stories of the month — shared widely and called out by readers as particularly helpful as they voted.

Bunny Beatdown darts through a tight wall of blockers, her skates barely staying inside the flat track line as she slips past the last defender. The whistle blows, and the Tucson Roller Derby bench erupts in cheers. For Bunny Beatdown, this isn’t just a game — it’s a place where she feels empowered to be fully herself: a Latinx, femme, transgender woman.
From the opening lines of this story by Alessandra De Zubeldia, written as part of her ASU journalism program, I was hooked. The vivid scene-setting, paired with powerful photos and video, made it impossible to look away. And it’s Bunny Beatdown’s closing words that stayed with me most: “I’m just so grateful to be a part of such a supportive group of people. I love them. So many endorphins. It makes me feel like it’s worth living.”
John Washington and Hannah Cree, reporting for Arizona Luminaria and AZPM, followed one Tucson family through years of impossible choices, showing in painful detail how gaps in our mental health system push people into jails instead of care. By spending time with Pat Grenier and his loved ones and examining the records that document his case, the reporting exposes how policy decisions and underfunded services affect one man — and thousands of others living with severe mental illness in Pima County.

Chelsea Curtis’ favorites
Carolina’s story, Following teeth marks: How volunteers are tracking beavers on the San Pedro River, is easily one of my favorite Arizona Luminaria stories of the year because it captures the beauty of everyday people working to make a difference.
Carolina took what could have been a straightforward environmental news story and turned it into a narrative that’s full of life and showcases how citizen scientists follow teeth marks and other riverbank clues to better understand beaver populations. Her story highlights the important roles these animals play in restoring wetlands and calls attention to the little-known fact that their numbers have been steadily shrinking in recent years.
Carolina’s story reminds me that not everything is about big laws and political fights – sometimes the most impactful work comes from regular people with notebooks and binoculars, looking out for the small guys.

Among Arizona Luminaria’s most impactful journalism this year is Yana Kunichoff’s and John Washington’s dogged reporting on Project Blue. Their coverage reached a turning point when they broke the news that Amazon was the company behind the massive data center planned for Pima County, giving the public clarity and accountability they’d been demanding from local leaders.
And the pair didn’t stop there. Through the rest of the year, Yana and John tracked every turn of the debate, covering public meetings, digging into records that revealed next steps and exposing the secrecy of nondisclosure agreements that kept details of the project from residents.
Their reporting helped drive changes to policies on large water users, as well as to county and city rules on NDAs and environmental reviews. Together, their exclusive and relentless reporting made Project Blue one of the region’s defining topics of the year and showcased how persistent local journalism can help cut through secrecy and connect residents with the decisions shaping their communities.
Carolina Cuellar’s favorites
Chelsea Curtis’ reporting on the Gila River Indian Community weighing a banishment ordinance, a first for Arizona tribes, brought to light a policy that had largely flown under the radar. The proposal would allow the tribal council to banish a member with a history of violent offenses. Curtis’ reporting not only surfaced the issue for the community but also prompted coverage by numerous other news outlets.
This is just one example of why Chelsea is such a strong reporter. She consistently digs for leads, identifies stories others miss, and brings important, often overlooked issues into the public conversation. While other outlets followed her reporting without crediting her, Chelsea’s reporting ultimately made it to the national stage through the Associated Press — a testament to the quality of her work.

I always look forward to reading John’s reporting on jaguars in Southern Arizona, and this story was no exception. In A new model for bringing jaguars back to Southern Arizona, he explores a proposal presented by an Argentine wildlife biologist to reintroduce jaguars to the Sky Island region, drawing on successful rewilding efforts in Argentina’s Iberá National Park.
John grounds the story with a science-based model and helps readers understand not just the possibility of jaguar recovery in the borderlands, but the planning, research and collaboration that would be required.
What makes this piece especially strong is how John takes research and conservation work happening far from Arizona and meaningfully localizes it. He connects global conservation science to a species that holds deep ecological and cultural significance in Southern Arizona, making the story accessible and compelling for a general audience. I appreciated how the reporting balanced scientific detail with clear storytelling, allowing readers who may not have a background in wildlife biology to grasp both the challenges and future surrounding jaguar reintroduction.

