The Anthony Reeves Experience

As Election Day approaches, it’s crucial to understand the historical significance of this moment. I’m not here to tell you who to vote for. It doesn’t matter if you’re Independent, Green, Democrat, or Republican. It doesn’t matter if you’re liberal or conservative. And it doesn’t matter what your specific values are. What truly matters is that there are people in this country who believe certain individuals shouldn’t be allowed to vote. I’m not referring to legitimate concerns about eligibility. This goes beyond that. Some segments of our population are determined to stop legally eligible citizens from voting. They are committed to: 1) preventing access to voting, 2) restricting the ability to vote, and 3) invalidating votes cast legitimately. As a member of Generation X who grew up hearing firsthand accounts from the Civil Rights Movement, I understand what it means to come from a group of people who were once targeted for simply exercising their right to vote. If you think such acti...

When I was in high school and college, no one ever talked to me about the importance of joining an organization. In high school, I was involved in five or six different organizations on campus, as well as a few off campus. When I got to college, I continued the same trend, joining another five or six organizations, whether professional or personal in nature. Yet, at no point did anyone explain why it was important to be part of an organization. Most of the organizations I joined were made up of people who shared similar interests, goals, or desires. Looking back, I may not remember every detail of what those organizations did, but I can recall the meaningful impact they had on me. As an adult, I’ve been a member of various organizations, and the experience feels much the same. People often ask what benefit I get from these groups, and I’ve realized the benefit is often personal. For example, when I was a member of a local Rotary Club, it wasn’t just about the organization itself bu...

When I arrived at college in the fall of 1987, I had no idea how out of my depth I would feel. I kind of sensed it, but once I got there, it hit me hard. I wasn’t struggling because I was in a new part of the country or dealing with culture shock—we were all young, fresh out of high school, and eager for our first taste of independence. No, what I struggled with was something deeper. The school I attended was a small, private liberal arts college. The size wasn’t the problem, nor was the liberal arts focus—it was the “private” part. I had never been to a private school before, and it became clear that many of the students came from families that could afford this kind of education. I didn’t know everyone’s financial situation, nor did I need to, but it became obvious quickly. These were kids whose parents could pay for their college education outright, something I couldn’t relate to. While they took for granted little luxuries like grabbing pizza regularly, going out to eat, or even...