They called it a roundtable. But what happened at Grand Oaks was a scripted stunt. The Secretary of Education read a statement, dodged every question, and let local officials speak for her—while the public was shut out.

Our schools were used as props. Our children were used as a backdrop. And the people who should’ve spoken up? They sat quietly and smiled for the cameras.

Most people don’t run for local office because they think someone else will. But that’s how we lose — before the race even starts.

If you’ve ever looked around and thought, “somebody has to do something,” this is your sign: You are somebody.

Sixty years ago, Medicaid made a promise: that no one would be left behind just because they were poor, rural, sick, or aging.
Now, that promise is under attack. Donald Trump’s brutal budget isn’t just cruel — it’s a calculated class war, and rural communities like ours are being left to bleed.

We’re not backing down. This is a promise worth fighting for.

At the July 21 Commission meeting, Anderson County had a choice: defend our libraries as inclusive public spaces — or hand them over to a censorship agenda wrapped in conspiracy and culture war. Despite powerful testimony from residents, the Commission chose the latter. They voted to appoint a man who "absolutely agrees" with a known book banner — just because he “goes about it differently.” This wasn’t leadership. It was performance. And our libraries, our staff, and our community deserve better.

Two commissioners who’ve worked to censor our libraries now want to lead them. Unless someone else steps up, they’ll get the keys. We’ve said it before: you don’t put an arsonist in charge of the fire station.
This is how public institutions are dismantled — not all at once, but from the inside out.