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In Colorado, we pride ourselves on working across the aisle when the well-being of our communities is on the line. As current and former county commissioners—one Republican and one Democrat—we don’t always agree on policy. But when it comes to the so-called “big beautiful bill,” we see eye to eye: this legislation threatens the health, stability, and futures of Coloradans across the political spectrum.

This federal budget reconciliation bill would have deeply harmful consequences that would be anything but beautiful for Coloradans who are working hard to care for themselves and their families. By gutting key provisions that make health care affordable, adding red tape to safety-net programs, and stripping away critical supports and services, the bill would make life harder and more stressful for thousands of Colorado families. This is a health emergency in the making.

Here’s what’s at stake:

For one, the bill allows enhanced premium tax credits for ACA insurance plans to lapse, effectively driving people out of the ACA marketplaces and increasing premiums for millions of Americans who rely on them. According to Connect for Health Colorado, the state’s health insurance marketplace, more than 112,000 Coloradans could lose their health coverage if this bill becomes law. The loss of enhanced premium tax credits could strip away up to $620 million in subsidies from Colorado households. In some cases, Coloradans could see their premiums double.

The bill doesn’t stop at ACA coverage. It also makes major cuts to Medicaid and SNAP, lifelines for thousands of Colorado families. Proposals include burdensome work requirements that could result in millions losing their Medicaid coverage, not because they’re unwilling to work, but because they can’t navigate a complicated bureaucracy or don’t meet narrowly defined criteria. Meanwhile, work requirements would force the state to spend even more on administrative oversight to verify recipients’ eligibility. These cuts and unnecessary red tape would be devastating for people with health conditions, jeopardizing access to life-saving health care, medications, and crisis services.

Meanwhile, cuts to SNAP, our most effective anti-hunger program, would increase food insecurity and household stress. These cuts will also be devastating to the local rural grocery stores that provide employment as well as community support. These draconian policies are being pushed forward in order to fund massive tax cuts for the wealthiest Americans. It’s a corrupt trade-off: taking health care and food assistance away from those in need to provide even more for those who already have the most.

For anyone who’s ever worried about affording health insurance, particularly those managing a chronic illness or navigating a mental health crisis, this is more than a budget line item. It’s a cause for panic.

Colorado is already grappling with a full-blown mental health crisis that has left far too many of our at-risk neighbors without the support they need. This makes cuts to health coverage all the more dangerous. Rural communities are especially vulnerable. Mental health providers are already scarce, and resources are limited. If more of our residents lose coverage, we won’t just see rising ER visits. We’ll see growing despair and worsening outcomes. We’ve seen it before, and we know who pays the price: kids, people with disabilities, and families already under stress.

We might come from different sides of the political spectrum, but as Coloradans, we agree on a shared set of values. We believe in fiscal responsibility. We believe in strong communities. And we believe that public policy should help people, not punish them. There’s nothing “beautiful” about a bill that strips away stability and increases suffering.

This is a moment that demands unity, not division. We urge our local leaders, health professionals, advocates, and residents across Colorado to raise their voices and oppose this bill. Let your representatives in Congress know that Coloradans won’t stand by while our health and dignity are put on the chopping block.

Emma Pinter is an Adams County Commissioner and Wendy Buxton-Andrade is a former Prowers County commissioner.

For countless students, especially those from low- and middle-income backgrounds, small liberal arts colleges offer more than an education — they serve as the launchpad to a lifetime of opportunity. These institutions, here in Colorado and across the country, open doors to academic rigor, financial aid, and lifelong networks that would otherwise be out of reach.

That’s why Congress’s proposed expansion of the federal endowment tax is so troubling. This policy risks undermining the very resources that make these transformative experiences possible, threatening access and affordability at schools that depend on their endowments to support students most in need.

We both have direct small college experience and strong Colorado ties: Kyle graduated from Colorado College in Colorado Springs, and Greg is originally from Denver and returned to the area after attending DePauw University in Indiana. We both now chair the boards of trustees for our respective schools, so we know what’s at stake.

Unlike large universities, small liberal arts colleges like ours and dozens of others across the country rely on donor-funded endowments as essential financial resources. These funds directly support financial aid, faculty salaries, academic programs, and community partnerships. At institutions like Colorado College and DePauw, endowment income typically covers a larger portion of operating budgets – for some, up to 50% — compared to just 15% at larger schools.

For students, endowments support generous scholarships that enable graduates to complete their degrees with manageable levels of student loans. It means that schools are able to provide opportunities that many students — especially those from lower-income families — might never otherwise have. At Colorado College, approximately 83% of our students from Colorado receive financial aid, and 90% of all DePauw students receive some financial aid.

These scholarships are not luxuries. They are the mechanisms by which our institutions create upward mobility, develop future leaders, and build strong communities where they employ faculty and staff. They are how we educate students not just for their first jobs, but for a lifetime of learning, leading, and adapting to a rapidly changing world.

We know this because we both have lived it.

For Kyle, receiving financial aid to attend Colorado College led to a transformative experience that reshaped his future. The college’s distinctive academic environment and close-knit community nurtured intellectual growth as well as  personal confidence and a lifelong sense of purpose. Crucially, it connected him to professional networks, mentors, and social capital.

For Greg, strong academic programs, small class sizes, faculty mentorship, and Division III athletics gave him the tools and confidence to thrive. Starting with foundational internships during college and continuing into a fulfilling career, he brought the value of that education back to the Denver community where he co-founded an investment firm.

The proposed endowment tax hike threatens this important educational ecosystem. It’s a tax not just on institutions but on opportunity itself. It would harm the very students federal education policy should be helping most, leading to fewer scholarships, fewer faculty positions, and fewer programs that impact college campus communities.

At a time when higher education is under enormous pressure to deliver value, accessibility, and flexibility, Congress should be supporting models that do exactly that rather than putting them at risk. Small colleges already operate more efficiently than their public counterparts — delivering lower taxpayer cost per student, higher four-year graduation rates, and better long-term earnings for graduates. These are institutions that work.

Congress is still considering this proposed tax increase, but it’s not too late to prevent this mistake. We urge Colorado’s congressional delegation and their colleagues in states across the country to protect small colleges from this tax increase. It doesn’t just hurt the schools. It hurts the students, communities, and the nation they are helping to build.

Kyle Samuel is a graduate of Colorado College in Colorado Springs and chairs the college’s Board of Trustees. Greg Sissel is a Denver resident and chairs the Board of Trustees for DePauw University in Indiana.

When I visited Bryce Canyon National Park recently, the shared paths were crowded with electric motorcycles. They say they are e-bikes: If they can rip uphill at 20 miles per hour without pedaling, I think of them as motorcycles.

E-bikes can be class 1, 2, or 3. Class 1 provides assistance when the pedals are turned. Class 2 has a throttle that can propel the bike without pedaling. Both have a top speed of 20 mph. Class 3 bikes, also pedal-assisted, have a maximum speed of 28 mph. Only class 1 and 3 are allowed in national parks.

Friends with e-bikes tell me they like them because the pedal assistance means they can ride farther with less effort, even uphill. The bikes keep them active outdoors. I ride my bike for exercise. If I ride 12 miles on what I consider a real bike instead of
20 mph on an e-bike, we probably get the same workout.

At the Grand Canyon, by the end of the day the rim road is littered with abandoned rental e-bikes that ran out of juice. Rather than pedal a heavy bike with a useless battery, riders simply leave them on the side of the road for the rental company to retrieve. On a recent catered mountain bike ride, one of the participants rented an e-bike so she could keep up with her husband. But the guides had to spend many hours recharging the bike before they could leave. I wonder just how practical it would have been on a multi-day trip.

I recently read a plaintive screed from a mountain biker with a moral dilemma. He has a coterie of buddies who ride. When one of them had knee surgery, that person bought an e-bike so he would not hold everyone up. The group kept riding on trails where e-bikes are banned, figuring that with 10 real riders and one e-bike they were OK.

Over the course of time, Mr. E-bike started leaving the others behind, so they felt obligated to buy their own e-bikes while still poaching the non-e-bike trails. Was it now immoral, he wondered, because they were all riding illegally? He was advised to let his conscience be his guide.

Horses erode trails worse than bikes do, and bikes wear a trail down more than hikers. If the rationale for riding an e-bike is that it allows one to go farther, that is more trail to be worn down. E-bikes pollute less than gasoline motorcycles. However, a human-powered bike doesn’t pollute at all—unless one counts heavy breathing.

Outdoor enthusiasts are already vying for increased access to wild lands. ATV and 4X4 owners in Utah are incensed that the BLM plans to close certain roads to them and allow (gasp) mountain bikers to have sway.

On the other hand, mountain bikers are pressuring managers of designated wilderness to allow them access to these heretofore closed trails. E-bikers are upset that many trails are still open only to analog bikes.

It’s a slippery slope. When a local area was declared a wilderness, many residents complained that now they could no longer visit. “I have bad knees: I need my ATV.” But if I cannot afford an ATV, then I need a more developed road to visit in my 4-
wheel drive. If I cannot afford a 4X4, pave the road so I can drive it in my car.

In China, there is now a plan to build an escalator to the top of a mountain so that “everyone can enjoy the view.” Where is it written that everyone must be able to go everywhere by any means necessary?

A recent article in an outdoor magazine predicts that e-mountain bikes are the wave of the future, and bicycle vendors expect e-bikes to soon outsell analog bikes. If I stick with my must-pedal bike, I guess I will be considered a Luddite.

I do not suppose I really want e-bike riders to bow to me as they go by because I am doing all the pedaling myself. I would, however, appreciate it if they would not smirk as they pass. On the other hand, I guess I could refrain from yelling: “At least pretend to pedal!”

Marjorie ‘Slim’ Woodruff is a contributor to Writers on the Range, an independent nonprofit dedicated to spurring lively conversation about the West. She is an educator at Grand Canyon and doesn’t mind picking fights.

What the? A masked man on a unicycle has been stealing Pride flags in Longmont. A cursory news search revealed similar thefts in Fort Collins, Pennsylvania, and Oklahoma sans unicycle. Although I don’t recognize Pride Month, these thefts anger me. The thieves aren’t just stealing; they are attempting to silence those who do celebrate.

Meanwhile, CNN reported that consumer brands have scaled back Pride Month promotions in fear of consumer boycotts and reprisal from the Trump administration, given its opposition to diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) efforts. There is nothing wrong with the former — customers can buy or not buy from whom they please — but the latter is unacceptable.

Governments should neither support nor oppose Pride month activities. That means not arbitrarily denying promoters parade permits, which occasionally happens, or hosting government-sponsored celebrations like President Joe Biden did. The purpose of government is to protect the life, liberty, and property of its citizens, not to weigh in on cultural conflicts one way or the other.

Individuals should be able to participate or abstain without pressure or harassment from government or other individuals.

Which sums up my entire feelings about Pride — the nationwide effort to celebrate the LGBTQ+ community every June, that culminated in a parade, 5K and festival in Denver this weekend.  I don’t endorse the movement but support the right of others to do so.

But don’t you have any gay friends? No, actually. I have plenty of friends who are attracted to the same sex, but they’re not my “gay friends.”  How someone identifies sexually means nothing to me unless I wish to date him.

Besides, I’ve known people who were straight and are now gay, and people who were gay and are now straight, people who are living as the opposite sex and people who have “de-transitioned” back to their biological sex. What category should I put them in? The plus?

Don’t your gay and trans-identifying friends disagree with you about politics and religion? Probably. I have yet to meet anyone who agrees with me on everything. Fortunately, there are 7,852 potential topics of discussion, so it’s easy to steer clear of the controversial. But if we do decide to discuss sensitive issues, we can do it with respect.

Don’t you want people to feel pride in who they are? Not necessarily. Frankly, I find the word “pride” troublesome. Pride can indicate personal satisfaction in an achievement. I take pride in my gardens and gardening ability, for example. Or it can mean confidence in an identity, especially one that feels assailed. Back in college, my girlfriends and I often said “I’m proud to be a woman” to signify defiance against gender stereotyping. Right after September 11, Lee Greenwood’s song about being proud to be an American got more radio play than when it was released in 1984. We were all singing it.

It’s understandable that people who feel unaccepted because of their sexuality use the word “pride” in this way. The trouble with identitarian usage, however, is that only some people are allowed to apply it that way. One can be proud to be a woman but not a man, proud to be Black or Hispanic but not white, proud to be gay but not straight.

For this reason, I’ve stopped using the words “proud” or “pride” and adopted more inclusive terms regarding group identity.  I do not say I’m proud to be a woman or American. Rather, I say I love being a woman, and I’m grateful to be an American. My nationality and sex are attributes and not a matter of pride since I have not earned them. They contribute to but do not make me the unique person I am. I am a category of one. That goes for everyone else.

Krista L. Kafer is a Sunday Denver Post columnist. Follow her on Twitter: @kristakafer.

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After years of heartbreak and rising fatalities, Colorado has reached a long-awaited turning point in the fight against fentanyl. For the first time in more than a decade, we are seeing a meaningful decline in overdose deaths — not just in isolated communities, but across the state and the country. This progress is real. It’s hopeful. And it’s the direct result of coordinated efforts at every level of government.

But now is not the time to let up. The fentanyl threat hasn’t disappeared — it has evolved. And if we lose focus, the gains we’ve made could quickly slip away.

Data from the Centers for Disease Control’s National Center for Health Statistics shows that overdose deaths nationwide dropped by almost 27% from 2023 to 2024. In Colorado, fatalities declined by 18%, falling from 1,998 to 1,637. Most notably, fentanyl-related deaths dropped 35% percent — from 1,238 to 804. These are the most encouraging numbers we’ve seen since before the COVID-19 pandemic and might signal a long-overdue reversal of a devastating trend.

This progress is thanks to the tireless work of public health professionals, community advocates and law enforcement — especially here in Colorado — who have made it their mission to save lives and hold traffickers accountable.

At the federal level, law enforcement has made dismantling the fentanyl supply chain a top priority. In 2024, the DEA seized more than 60 million counterfeit pills and nearly 8,000 pounds of fentanyl powder nationwide — enough to deliver more than 380 million lethal doses. These seizures represent lives saved and underscore the scale of the crisis.

The urgency continues in 2025. In just the first four months of this year, more than 22 million fentanyl-laced pills and 3,100 pounds of powder were seized nationwide — clear evidence of the threat’s persistence and the relentless pace of interdiction work.

In Colorado, the FBI’s Denver Field Office is leading targeted enforcement efforts through specialized task forces that work closely with federal, state, local, and tribal partners. These teams are disrupting not only drug shipments but also the trafficking networks behind them.

In recent months, joint operations resulted in the arrest of 43 traffickers and the seizure of more than 1,000 pounds of methamphetamine and 45 pounds of fentanyl from Colorado streets. In one case worked with the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Office, deputies recovered 50,000 fentanyl pills from a single vehicle.

These are not just statistics. They represent real threats removed from real neighborhoods. Every arrest and every seizure disrupts transnational criminal groups and reflects the strength of interagency collaboration.

But the FBI’s work goes beyond seizing drugs. We are also targeting the financial infrastructure that keeps these criminal organizations alive. By tracking illicit money flows and dismantling laundering networks, we’re cutting off the cartels’ ability to operate and grow.

Recent federal policy directives are strengthening our ability to act. The designation of certain cartels as Foreign Terrorist Organizations has expanded enforcement tools and improved intelligence sharing. These changes are allowing us to move faster, collaborate more effectively, and strike at the heart of trafficking operations with greater precision.

Still, law enforcement cannot do this alone. As we enter the summer months — when overdose rates often rise — we need communities, families and policymakers to stay engaged.

That means parents having honest conversations with their kids. It means community groups continuing prevention and outreach. And it means elected leaders supporting strong enforcement, treatment and recovery programs.

Colorado has shown what’s possible when we work together. The success of our FBI-led task forces — powered by local, state, tribal and federal partnerships — proves that intelligence-driven, unified action saves lives.

But the fentanyl threat remains. Traffickers adapt. So must we.

This is a pivotal moment. We have momentum. Now, we must press forward — with urgency, unity, and unwavering commitment to protecting Colorado families.

The fight is not over. But together, we can keep making progress — and save even more lives.

Mark Michalek is the Special Agent in Charge of the FBI Denver Field Office. He is also a U.S. Air Force Academy graduate.

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