On Aug. 6, Colorado officially named Agaricus julius its state mushroom. The small, salmon-to-brown-capped fungus now joins the lark bunting, the blue columbine, and the stegosaurus in the roster of official state symbols.
But the real story didn’t begin in a forest or the state Capitol. It started in a classroom in Thornton’s Horizon High School, where a social studies teacher with a mushroom obsession and a handful of teenagers in the school politics club decided to try their hand at lawmaking — learning firsthand how citizens, even teenagers, can influence government while helping Colorado recognize a species that’s both ecologically important and distinctly local.
A Teacher with a fungi fixation
Greg Sanchez has spent 30 years teaching in the Adams 12 school district. Over the years he’s taught nearly every social science subject: AP psychology, government, economics, history, world history. He lives in the same community where he teaches, and his students know him well. But outside the classroom, Sanchez has a reputation of a different sort.
“I’m the mushroom guy,” he said with a laugh.
The title is well-earned. Sanchez is a longtime member of the Colorado Mycological Society, where he has served three times as president. His passion for fungi began in 2004, when he stumbled across posters advertising the Telluride Mushroom Festival while on vacation in southwestern Colorado. The following year, he persuaded his wife to return to Telluride and attend the festival.
“I came to all the talks, went on the forays — it just blew my mind,” he recalled. “From then on I was hooked. Why weren’t more people talking about this stuff?”
Sanchez dug deep, learning from veteran foragers and scientists. His curiosity wasn’t limited to one aspect of mycology, like say the culinary or psychedelic use of mushrooms, but rather the opposite — ”just how many directions you could go with it,” he said.
His social sciences background, however, meant that he was particularly interested in the connections between humans and fungi and the symbology of mushrooms. So when it came time to design a civic engagement unit, Sanchez decided to blend his two passions.
“This idea of a state mushroom came up in my civics class in 2021 when I was starting to think of ideas for civic engagement,” he said. “That’s part of the curriculum — how can students interact with their government?’”
Sanchez also had another hook for the students: Adams 12 already had a history of influencing Colorado state symbols. When Sanchez was in elementary school, teacher Ruth Sawdo and her fourth grade students at McElwain Elementary School in Thornton staged a two-year campaign to have the Stegosaurus named as Colorado’s state fossil. In 1982, Gov. Richard Lamm signed the bill into law via executive order.
When Sanchez began the quest to add a mushroom to Colorado’s state symbols, three states had already done so — Oregon, Minnesota and Texas. Although he says he was “serious but not totally serious” when he started, as he began to learn what would be involved in pitching a state mushroom bill to Congress and whether it would be a feasible project for his students, he decided to commit.
And if it worked? Well, Sanchez admitted with a grin, “I just wanted a state mushroom vanity plate.”
Rallying the experts
Sanchez knew that for the mushroom bill to succeed, it would need more than enthusiasm — it needed scientific credibility. He reached out to a group of esteemed Colorado mycologists, including members of the Colorado Mycological Society, the Crested Butte and Denver Botanic Gardens, and the Pikes Peak Mycological Society. Together, they formed a joint committee to guide the project.
“The students brought energy and curiosity, but we needed a clear, objective choice for the state mushroom,” Sanchez said.
The committee began with a survey of public opinion, asking enthusiasts and everyday Coloradans to weigh in on possible candidates. Mushrooms under consideration included Boletus rubriceps (“Ruby Porcini”), Cantharellus roseocanus (“Colorado Rainbow Chanterelle”), and the eventual winner — Agaricus julius (“the Emperor”).
“Several of these mushrooms were lovely choices,” Sanchez said. “But some weren’t native, and some had already been claimed by other states.” His first choice, Boletus rubriceps, was snagged by Utah in 2023.
After careful evaluation, the committee determined that Agaricus julius was the most ecologically relevant option. For the general public, it was also familiar — Agaricus is the same genus as portobello, cremini and white button mushrooms, making it a tasty and “choice” edible. Politically, it “looked like a mushroom,” a factor that mattered more to legislators than one might expect. Furthermore, Agaricus grows in the high elevation forests of blue spruce — Colorado’s state tree. “We had to be thoughtful,” Sanchez said.
Applying criteria such as ecological relevance, historical documentation in Colorado, recognizability and distinctiveness, the committee drafted a formal paper: “Why Agaricus julius is the Ideal Choice for Colorado’s State Mushroom.” The document detailed the mushroom’s habitat, taxonomy, history and symbolic significance, and it became a key reference for lawmakers.
While the committee prepared the formal recommendations, Sanchez shifted his attention to the students, knowing that their testimony would bring the project to life in a very different way.
From politics club to the state Capitol
Sanchez first floated the idea of the state mushroom in his world history class and then in the school’s politics club, where a group of students were already interested in public policy.
“They weren’t mushroom people exactly,” Sanchez said. “But they understood the importance.”
As the idea gained traction, Sanchez explained the concept of testimony — “basically that they students would be spokespeople for the bill.” However, he didn’t drill the students or script their remarks. He gave them the background information and let them run with it.
“It was a risk,” he said. “But they each found something to connect to. One ninth grader said it looked like a toasted marshmallow, and that people in Colorado like to go camping. Another student was more polished, talking about ecological relevance.”
Delilah Viano, one of the Horizon High students who testified before the House State, Civic, Military & Veterans Affairs Committee last winter, recalled her experience vividly.
“The idea for the state mushroom testimony actually came up during my world history class,” she said. “At first, I didn’t believe it. Most adults don’t ask kids for help. (They should, though.) But as the due date approached, I double-checked, and it was true. I was so excited. I’ve always wanted to do stuff where I got to make laws, and now I actually could!”
Viano wrote her three-minute testimony with a friend, Kritagya Pokharel, which they read alternately before the committee.
“We even made the representatives and chairpeople laugh,” she said. “They were super nice and encouraging, not at all like the movies. Some guy testified reading a poem while wearing a huge mushroom hat, and that made everyone laugh — it’s not something you see every day.”
Legislative champions
The bill’s success also depended on political allies. Rep. Jacque Phillips, a Thornton Democrat who sponsored House Bill 1091, was enthusiastic from the start.
“I was excited to go to Horizon High School to talk to the politics club and learn about the state mushroom legislation idea,” she said. “I sponsored the bill because I want students to become more engaged in the legislative process. I want their voices to be heard. I want them to be empowered. I want them to know that putting in the work leads to outcomes that they want. I wanted them to have a legacy, and this was the bill to accomplish that.”
Phillips explained that students’ involvement was crucial.
“The mycologists had been working on this for several years, so they were already on board with the mushroom selection,” she said. “But we needed the students to make it real. Their testimony showed the process in action, and it’s something other schools can replicate.”
The students’ testimony, coupled with the committee’s scientific backing, created a compelling package for legislators.
How a mushroom bill became law
The journey from classroom brainstorm to official state law took more than three years, several false starts and plenty of patience.
In 2022, Sanchez’s legislative contact for District 31 left to represent Colorado in the U.S. House of Representatives, leaving the mushroom idea temporarily stranded. The following year, then-Rep. Said Sharbini, D-Brighton, agreed to sponsor the bill and even visited Horizon High School to meet with Sanchez’s civics class. State Sen. Kyle Mullica, D-Thornton, signed on as a co-sponsor, giving the effort momentum. But Sharbini resigned at the end of 2023, and once again the project seemed doomed.
It was only thanks to persistence — and a little luck — that the bill survived. Kelsey Harbert, Sharbini’s former legislative aide, connected Sanchez with the newly elected Phillips, who agreed to carry the bill forward. With much of the groundwork already done, Phillips was willing to take up the cause. Still, Sanchez knew better than to be overly confident.
“This could have died in committee, on the floor of the House, in the Senate,” he said. “It could have died in a lot of places.”
Here’s how the process finally unfolded:
Jan. 23, 2025: House Bill 1091 is introduced in the Colorado House of Representatives.
Feb. 3: Seven students from Horizon High School’s Politics Club, along with five members of the joint committee of mycologists, testify before the House State, Civic, Military, & Veterans Affairs Committee. The bill advances unanimously.
Feb. 5: The bill passes its third reading in the House with a recorded vote.
March 6: Sanchez himself testifies before the Senate Committee on Agriculture & Natural Resources.
March 11: The bill is debated, amended, and approved on second reading in the Senate.
March 12,: The full Senate passes the amended bill.
March 26,: With no referral to the ballot, the measure heads to the governor.
March 31: Gov. Jared Polis signs the bill into law.
Aug. 6: The law officially takes effect.
The bill’s path was relatively smooth compared to other proposals, in part because it was bipartisan and cost nothing. “If it had cost money, it might have been a different story,” Sanchez said.
Phillips emphasized the broader lesson.
“I hope this process encourages other schools, teachers, and students to be involved in the political process in a non-divisive way. The students who worked on the Mushroom Bill remain in contact, and I hope they have more ideas for future sessions.”
A civics lesson that stuck
For Sanchez, the mushroom bill was always about more than fungi. It was about showing students that civic engagement works.
“We talk about how bills become laws, but the civic engagement piece is usually more local — city council or school board,” he said. “This was a way to show them: Here’s how you can change the government, make a difference. If you don’t like something, do something about it.”
It was a lesson that Viano, the Horizon sophomore, learned first-hand from the experience testifying at the Statehouse.
“I learned a lot about the legislative process. Mr. Sanchez showed our class how the whole legislative branch worked, and that you can contact your house representative and ask for them to present an idea in the state Capitol. People have to testify for or against it, giving good reasons why. I didn’t even know that before.”
Sanchez hopes the experience inspires other teachers and students. Already, mycology colleagues from Washington and New York have reached out, curious about how Colorado did it. The joint committee’s work was also intended to be used as a roadmap for other states seeking to add a mushroom to their state symbology.
While Sanchez knows not everyone loved the choice of Agaricus julius — there were critics online, mostly quick-to-comment keyboard warriors — he believes that’s beside the point.
“I just told them: If you don’t like it, do something about it. You can always try to change it. That’s the message.”
For him, that’s the real legacy of the project.
“I think now that we got this law in, there are a lot of people going, ‘we can do this stuff,’” he said. “That’s what I’m most proud of — that students can be a part of something and make a difference.”
Viano agreed.“This was a super cool opportunity to take. Having a state mushroom doesn’t cost anything, and can affect the state positively. I was super excited that the bill passed. It was truly a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I’m so glad I got to be part of it.”