The Anthony Reeves Experience

College is often seen as a time for academic and personal growth, but for me, it was a transformative period in ways I could have never anticipated. As I stepped into my sophomore year at the University of Tampa, I found myself at a unique crossroads. Two of my closest friends, John from my hometown in Pine Bluff, Arkansas, and Frank from New York, decided not to return. Their absence left me feeling untethered and forced me to reimagine my support network. At the same time, I was navigating new responsibilities as a resident assistant. Little did I know that this upheaval would lead to one of the most defining experiences of my life: forming deep, meaningful connections with a diverse group of students from the Caribbean, Central America, and South America. This journey began unexpectedly when I noticed a visibly upset student named Sylvan, from Aruba. A simple question, ‘Are you okay?’ sparked a friendship that expanded my worldview. Sylvan introduced me to his circle of friends. ...

Resident Assistants, ResCom Dorm University of Tampa, 1990 to 1991 When I was a senior at the University of Tampa, I had the distinct honor of serving as a Resident Assistant (RA) for three of the four years I was there. As an RA, I was responsible for overseeing a floor of students, helping resolve conflicts, planning programs, and serving as a bridge between students and the university. Before college, I had never even heard of the position. During my freshman year, I had two different RAs because I lived on two different floors, but even then, I never considered becoming one myself. RAs are seen as student leaders, often acting as the first authority figures outside of a student’s family. They play an integral role in shaping the college experience for others. When I applied for the position at the end of my freshman year, I honestly didn’t think I stood a chance. Attending a predominantly white, private institution filled with students from privileged backgrounds, I questioned wh...

Growth doesn’t always come with a trophy. Sometimes, it comes from stepping into the unknown, testing your limits, and realizing you’re stronger than you thought. Recently, I competed in a karate tournament in a place I had never been before. Unlike previous tournaments, where I had my karate brothers and sisters, my teacher, or at least the familiarity of competing in my home state, this time, I had none of that. It was just me, my training, and the challenge ahead. A Different Kind of Challenge This tournament had been on my calendar for months. A few weeks ago, I finally registered and paid my fees. On the morning of the event, I packed my gear—my uniform, protective equipment, and, being a little older now, some arthritis cream, a brace, and Tylenol for my knees. Then, my wife and I made the two-hour drive to a completely unfamiliar place. Competing in karate isn’t new to me. I’ve fought in small local tournaments and large international ones. But this time felt different. The...

Opening your own business is an exhilarating, terrifying, and transformative journey. If you are serious about pursuing your dream, two critical milestones will define your experience: Day 0 and Day 1. While Day 1 is when your business officially launches, Day 0 isn’t a single day at all. It represents the preparation period that lays the foundation for your success. It’s where you tackle countless decisions, large and small, to ensure that when your doors open for the first time, you are ready to hit the ground running. For me, Day 0 was a whirlwind. I made the leap in 2007 to open my law firm. The first step was picking a date, October 1st. Committing to a date transformed my preparation process into a countdown. I had to move quickly and strategically to handle the practicalities: securing office space, filing the necessary paperwork, and meeting the legal requirements to operate a business in Florida. It wasn’t just about logistics, though. Day 0 was filled with emotional challe...

Most people have no idea how close I came to dropping out of college or, at the very least, transferring. When I arrived at the University of Tampa in the fall of 1987, I was looking forward to a new chapter in my life, but I had no real idea of what to expect. Unfortunately, my first semester was nothing short of miserable. I was struggling financially to the point where even buying something as simple as laundry detergent was out of the question. Making friends wasn’t coming easily, and to top it off, I had the roommate situation from hell. These challenges compounded, leaving me feeling isolated and questioning whether I even belonged at the school. The only thing I had going for me was my academics, but that just made me lonelier. What I didn’t know at the time was that someone else on campus was going through nearly the exact same thing. He wasn’t enjoying his college experience, he was struggling financially, and, by some wild coincidence, he also had a terrible roommate situat...

Starting a business is often painted as exhilarating—a moment filled with hope, ambition, and the thrill of stepping into the unknown. My day one of opening my law firm was all of those things, but also surprisingly mundane and sobering. At the time, I was living in Kissimmee, FL, and my previous corporate office was in Tampa. For two years, I commuted an hour and a half daily to Tampa. But now, my journey led to Bartow, FL, a rural town nestled in Polk County, about an hour away. Unlike the bustling interstates to Tampa, the drive to Bartow required navigating winding back roads through quiet, unfamiliar landscapes. The solitude of that morning drive stuck with me. For the first time, I was no longer a part of a team, a company, or an established system. I was on my own. There were no coworkers, supervisors, or departments to lean on—just me and the dream of building my own law firm. Arriving at the office—a space I was sharing with another law firm—felt surreal. It was a modes...

Have you ever stopped to think about what it means to aspire to your “dream job”? We hear this phrase all the time—people striving for that one role, that one position they believe will fulfill their dreams. But let’s take a moment to pause and dig deeper: why do we call it a “dream job”? At its core, a job is something structured by someone else—defined by their needs, rules, and goals. So why do we attach something as personal and profound as a dream to something that’s ultimately controlled by others? It’s worth reflecting on this question because the answer might change how you approach your goals. The Allure of the Dream Job For many people, the concept of a dream job is tied to what the job represents: • Financial security. • Prestige or recognition. • Opportunities to work in exciting environments or professional circles. These are all valid aspirations. But here’s the challenge—are these outcomes exclusive to one specific job? Often, we think achieving a c...