The Anthony Reeves Experience

One of the greatest lessons I've ever learned about growth didn't come from winning. It came from losing. During my time as Step Master for my chapter at the University of South Florida in the mid-1990s, we had earned a reputation. Locally, we were one of the strongest step teams around. We knew our audience. We knew the stages. We knew how to perform in an environment where people expected us to succeed. But there was one thing we had never really done. We had never taken our success on the road. Some older Alpha brothers kept encouraging us to compete outside of our area. Looking back, I realize they weren't just encouraging us to enter another competition. They were encouraging us to test ourselves. Eventually, we decided to do something that, in hindsight, was probably a little crazy. Instead of entering one out-of-town competition, we entered two on the same weekend. On Friday night, we competed in Fort Lauderdale. Then we immediately got back on the road, drove to Gai...

When people talk about college, they often focus on the success story — the dream school, the scholarships, the 4.0 GPA. That wasn’t my story. I didn’t attend the University of Tampa because it was my first choice. I went there because I wanted to prove something — to a high school professor who didn’t think much of me. I turned down opportunities that made more financial sense, including a potential ROTC scholarship, for a private school that offered me just a small leadership grant. I told myself I’d make it work. What I didn’t realize then was that this wasn’t just a college experience. It was the first crossroad in my life — the one that taught me how to keep moving even when confidence was nowhere in sight. Surviving, Not Thriving When I got to campus, my finances were a patchwork of faith and luck — a Pell Grant, a leadership award, and a loan co-signed by my grandmother. I didn’t have backup. I didn’t have a plan. By the end of my first semester, I was already debating whe...

I don’t know when it actually happened, but when I turned 16 in 1985, I started to realize that if I wanted to go to college, it was going to be on me. My mom never directly said it, but I was an only child in a single-parent household. My mother was a schoolteacher, and I just knew that if college was going to happen, I’d have to figure out how to make it happen myself. As I entered my junior year of high school, I started thinking about my options. One serious idea I considered was going on active duty in the military to qualify for the G.I. Bill. I figured that if I gave the military a couple of years, I could get some clarity on what I wanted to do — maybe go in as a medical specialist, get some experience, and see if the medical field was for me. But my father talked me out of taking a break. That pretty much killed the active-duty plan. Then I had a chance encounter with a recruiter who opened my eyes to another option: joining the military reserves. I could go to drill one we...

In 1992, I moved to Tallahassee, Florida, excited to start my first professional job as a safety and health specialist for the State of Florida. I had a modest apartment, a few kitchen utensils, and a TV—but no furniture. Still, I was proud. I was stepping into adulthood, and I was ready to make my first big purchase. Thanks to the common practice back then of credit card companies setting up on college campuses, I had a Sears credit card with a $5,000 limit. I hadn’t used it, and honestly, I hadn’t planned to. But with my new job and bare apartment, I decided it was time to buy a sectional couch. Not just any couch—the couch. I had a clear vision: something comfortable, multifunctional, and big enough to turn my apartment into a real home. The Trip to the Department Store It was a typical off-day, so I dressed the way I always did during my college years: baggy T-shirt, sweatpants, sneakers, and a hat turned backwards. I walked into a Department Store ready to browse and, hopefully...