In several states, including Missouri, it's going to be harder for college students to vote this year. Some state legislatures have passed new voter identification laws that ban the use of college IDs, creating a significant obstacle for young people.

While I ordinarily advocate for letting young adults figure out how to take care of adult responsibilities, like voting, by themselves, students may require a parental assist in completing their civic duty this year. At the very least, parents should start looking up the rules now and talking to their college-age children about a voting plan, especially for those who attend college out of state.

Four years ago, during the last midterm election season, I was teaching a writing course to first-year students at Washington University in St. Louis. I was shocked to learn how difficult it is for many college students to cast a ballot.

I knew that for most of them, it would be their first opportunity to vote in a national election. I also knew that establishing a voting pattern early on helps cement a lifelong voting habit. So I issued a challenge: Let's reach 100% voter participation in our classroom.

I encouraged them to check their registration status online, and to find out the procedure for absentee voting if they planned to vote in another state. I checked in with the class periodically to ask how their voting plans were going. Students shared challenges about requested absentee ballots not arriving for many weeks, and not being sure how far in advance they would need to mail them back to ensure they were counted.

One parent had to physically drive to an election board in California, pick up an absentee ballot and send it via FedEx to her child to make sure it arrived in enough time to mail back. At the time, I was surprised that a parent would go to such lengths, but now that I find myself in a similar situation, I'm also willing to take extraordinary measures to protect my child's right to vote.

My daughter attends a university in Texas, but she is a resident of Missouri and registered to vote here. In order to vote absentee, she would need to fill out a form requesting an absentee ballot and note the reason why she was doing so. Since sending mail to university addresses can be unreliable, she would request to have the ballot mailed to our home address. I would then mail it to her, and would likely need to include postage. She would fill out and sign the ballot -- which would then need to be signed on the envelope, in front of a notary, before being mailed back.

A notary!

There are many points at which this system could break down -- especially if the mail is delayed at any step along the way.

Her other option would be to register to vote in Texas. Texas, like Missouri, no longer allows identification issued by universities to be used to vote, despite the fact that the schools verify each student's identity beforehand. So she would need to find a way to get a new Texas-issued ID. She lives on campus and does not have a car. Further complicating the situation, getting a Texas-issued ID would immediately invalidate her Missouri driver's license, which she needs to drive when she is home. Plus, she doesn't have her original birth certificate or Social Security card there with her.

I spent two full days trying to figure out the simplest way she could vote in the upcoming election. I even checked how much it would cost to fly her back home during the voting window. That would be around $500 -- well outside my budget.

It looks like her best option will be to register to vote in Texas. I sent her the address for the county election board and told her to take an Uber. I plan to see her before November, so I can give her her passport, which she can use to vote in Texas without invalidating her Missouri driver's license.

It should not be this difficult for an American citizen to exercise their basic, fundamental right to vote.

Given that the youth vote hit an all-time high in the 2020 election and that their support for President Joe Biden was a decisive factor in key races throughout the country, I can see why Republican-controlled legislatures would want to suppress their votes.

Like I told my students, there's a reason elected officials make it so difficult for you to make your voices heard.

Don't let them stop you.

Once a week, coupons were strewn across our dining room table.

My mom methodically cut the glossy inserts from the Sunday newspaper to save on the grocery bill for our large family. She organized them in white envelopes labeled with categories written across the top.

I followed her example after I started living on my own, even though I was buying far fewer groceries as compared to a family of eight. Those of us who have grown up in working-class homes may share this ethos of refusing to pay more for goods than absolutely necessary. The thrill of catching a sale or saving a few bucks stayed with me even when my economic circumstances changed.

At some point, clipping and keeping track of coupons became more cumbersome with less payoff. And in recent years, being forced to register and download store apps just to get digital coupons hasn't felt like much of a deal. Protections for consumer data and privacy are weak enough as it is; did I really want to give Target even more data just to save a buck on a new toothbrush?

Also, it seems like a hassle to keep track of purchases or discounts on my phone while pushing a grocery cart. My phone battery is almost always on its last legs when I'm running errands.

But with inflation raising food prices a little more than 11% over the last year, and several grocery staples getting even more costly, I've been revamping my shopping habits -- like millions of other consumers.

If I'm buying something online, it's easy enough to use comparison-shopping tools like Google Shopping, or to search for a coupon code on sites like RetailMeNot.com. But we get our weekly groceries the old-fashioned way: in person.

In recent years, we've shifted to getting the majority of our food staples from discount grocer Aldi, which carries mostly generic or in-house brands. Prices there are typically lower for fruit, vegetables, cheese, eggs, milk and bread, so coupons aren't an issue. Another strategy is to buy from local farms or farmers markets, which has the added bonus of being better for the environment. And one of our area's locally owned grocery chains only requires a phone number to earn cash back with its loyalty program. I'll try to go there before its competitors if I need a specific item.

I'm going to try some advice from Hayley Bennett, known as @that_coupon_chick on Instagram. She writes out her weekly grocery list and searches on sites like Coupons.com, BeFrugal or Lozo for discounts and sales.

I also rely on my husband's habit of clipping coupons for allergy medicine, personal hygiene and grooming products, and cleaning supplies. Recently, he handed me a couple of coupons for dishwashing and laundry pods, and I went to pick up the items. While I waited in the checkout line, the woman in front of me pulled up the store app on her phone, got an additional discount from an in-store promotion and handed over a few paper coupons. She saved more than $20 off her total.

When the checker asked me if I used their app, I felt a little irritated at myself that I didn't. I also felt like an underachiever handing over two measly coupons compared to the Coupon Queen ahead of me. The clerk scanned them and informed me that one had expired yesterday.

So embarrassing.

I texted my husband that only one of his coupons worked. We saved $2.

I've decided to download that store's shady coupon app after all.

When I peruse the Sunday paper, I might even pull out some envelopes.

Paige Tobik sent her husband to buy the emergency contraceptive, Plan B, from the drugstore even though the couple used condoms.

"We don't need this," he said to her.

"Yeah, but it's better to be safe than sorry," she said. They were already raising two young children: a 3-year-old and 14-month-old. Eventually, they hoped to grow their family, but not right then.

Last summer, despite her precautions, her period was late. Tobik, a scientist in the St. Louis area, took a pregnancy test. It was positive.

Tobik visited a Planned Parenthood clinic, where an ultrasound revealed tissue in her uterus, indicating she had likely had an incomplete miscarriage. The doctor gave her medication and scheduled follow-up bloodwork. Tobik bled profusely for several days, but her lab work showed that her pregnancy hormone levels were still rising.

She made an appointment with an OB-GYN at a nearby hospital, who performed another ultrasound. The tissue was still present, so the doctor scheduled a dilation and curettage procedure (often called a "D and C") to remove it. Again, her doctor assumed Tobik had experienced an incomplete miscarriage. However, the pathology results from the procedure indicated the removed tissue was nonfetal. Meanwhile, Tobik's hormone levels continued to rise.

The doctor did yet another ultrasound and discovered an embryo attached to Tobik's ovary. It had been too small to be detected in the previous ultrasounds. She was now 7 or 8 weeks into an ectopic pregnancy.

Ectopic pregnancies, in which a fertilized egg implants outside the uterus, can rupture and cause life-threatening hemorrhaging. They cannot be carried to term.

"I was absolutely devastated," Tobik said. "It went from an incomplete miscarriage to a life-threatening situation."

Her doctor prescribed a methotrexate injection, a form of medical abortion, to end the pregnancy.

Nearly a year after her ordeal, the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade. Trigger laws outlawing abortion went into effect in many states, including Tobik's home state of Missouri. She said she immediately thought about what would have happened to her today.

"I could have died," she said.

Missouri's law forbids abortion except in medical emergencies and when necessary to save the life of the mother, but the criteria for those exemptions are unclear. Gov. Mike Parson has refused to call a special session to pass legislation protecting access to contraceptives and ensuring doctors remain able to treat ectopic pregnancies. Do medical providers have to wait for a patient to hemorrhage to consider a pregnancy an imminent threat to her life?

A paper published in the New England Journal of Medicine last month shared devastating results from Texas, where a similar ban has been in place for a year. Clinicians interviewed from across the state revealed how their patients' lives have been endangered and patient care compromised. A specialist reported that their hospital no longer offers treatment for ectopic pregnancies that implant in scars from cesarean sections, despite strong recommendations from the Society for Maternal-Fetal Medicine that these life-threatening pregnancies be definitively managed with surgical or medical treatment.

"People have to be on death's door to qualify for maternal exemptions to (the Texas ban)," the specialist said.

Erin Armknecht, 42, of St. Louis, found herself in a life-threatening situation when an ectopic pregnancy ruptured in her fallopian tube in 2012.

"This was the worst pain I had ever been in, like someone was shoving a hot poker into my right side," she said. She was doubled over and sobbing when they took her in for surgery. Doctors removed the ruptured tube, and the couple struggled for two years to conceive again.

When she heard the news about the Supreme Court decision overturning Roe v. Wade, her first thought was about her harrowing experience.

"I'm glad it happened when it did because I don't know what my outcome would be now," she said. Could Armknecht have died or been left infertile if doctors or hospital administrators had hesitated, worried about prosecution under the new law?

"It's so scary for me to think how this can impact people who can get pregnant and their families and loved ones," she said.

Tobik said she thinks about how an abortion ban could have left her two young daughters motherless. She never imagined that she would end up in a situation where an abortion could save her life.

"Back when I was personally pro-life, I truly believed that abortion existed for irresponsible people only," she said. "I couldn't have been more wrong."