University Distinguished Associate Professor, English
Holloway Award Recipient, 1994
Mia Carter learned to read at the
precocious age of three. Many of
the happiest hours of her childhood,
she says, were spent nestled
with a book in the branches of a tree. “I was
always, always reading,” she says, “and I still am!”
Carter loved school from the start, but was
often too shy to speak up in class. Today, she
draws out quiet students by giving them the
option to write extra journal entries. “Then I collect
their notebook, respond with my own entry,
and we begin a dialogue that way,” she says. “And
90 percent of the time, they start talking in class.”
Carter has earned dozens of honors for her
research on modernist literature, film studies,
and more, but she says the best moments in
her career happen when she can transform a
classroom of former strangers into a community
buzzing with energy. “I want every student to
realize that they have a voice, and their voice
matters,” she says. “Each semester, when we hit
that point when the students really open up, I’m
in heaven.” –Rose Cahalan
Years at UT:
22
Teaching Tip:
"Always pass on what you have learned." - Yoda
Old-School
Bans phones and laptops in her classroom.
University Distinguished Teaching Professor, Chemistry
Senior Vice Provost for Enrollment & Graduation Management
Holloway Award Recipient, 1993
David Laude describes the in-class demonstrations he’s known for
as unusual. A less charitable person might call them strange, or
dangerous, or potentially illegal. Whatever they are, they are
effective. As a professor, as well as UT’s graduation czar, Laude’s
focus is the same: help students grow.
It doesn’t hurt that Laude is animated and articulate, a natural showboat
who, by his own admission, gives lectures off the cuff.
That might be why his demonstrations come so naturally. Take, for
example, the first day of Laude’s introductory chemistry class. Hundreds of
freshmen sit down to find five very large pickles, wired with copper, shaped
to spell out UT at the front of the room. Laude kills the lights and plugs the
pickles into an outlet. When they begin glowing yellowish-orange (because
of the sodium ions, he notes), he leads the class in the singing
of “The Eyes of Texas.”
He is also known to cook a complete turkey dinner from
scratch to entice seniors to show up the Wednesday before
Thanksgiving. That tradition was recently canceled, not
because his decorative balloon turkeys explode (they do),
but because the class grew too big for Laude to feed all of them by himself.
He still celebrates with his seniors, bringing pie and ice cream—made from
liquid nitrogen, of course—for 500.
“I think I’m really blessed,” Laude says. “It isn’t work for me. And it honors
all these parts of how I am, from wanting to be creative, to wanting to be
innovative, caring, and productive. When you have the opportunity to do
all those things, that’s a good deal.” –Andrew Roush
Years at UT:
27
Memorable Moment in the Classroom:
"The day a hydrogen balloon turkey exploded and brought half the fire department to campus."
Classroom Pet Peeve:
"Not laughing at my jokes."
Retired Professor, Mathematics, Former Vice President for Student Affairs
Holloway Award Recipient, 1976
On the first day of the spring 2014
semester, James Vick walked into
his Math 310 class—the last course
he’d ever teach at UT—with a stack of
quarters. “If I can’t already tell you your name,”
Vick announced to his more than 50 students,
“I’ll give you a quarter. We’ll play until we run
out.” He only lost one quarter.
Though he’s officially retired, Vick still refuses
to divulge how he manages to remember so many
names and faces before ever meeting them. But
it’s certainly a skill that has served him well in
his 44 years on the Forty Acres, 11 of which were
spent in the dean’s office, and another 16 as VP
for student affairs.
Freshmen Interest Groups, the Martin Luther
King Jr. statue, the honors dorms—Vick and his
staff were instrumental in bringing all of these
to campus, along with the Undergraduate Advising
Center (which was recently renamed in his
honor). But his true home has always been in the
classroom, where, even after he was diagnosed
with Parkinson’s disease in 2008, he remained
until his retirement.
“I would hope my legacy be that I left behind a
lot of good citizens, who are not only just smart,
but also committed to making the state and the
world a better place,” Vick says.
At the end of the semester, you’re likely to
find Vick brushing up on his banjo in his newly
acquired free time, or writing poems to share with
an extensive and anxious listserv of friends and
family. And he’ll definitely be staying in Austin.
“I’m a big UT sports fan,” he says. “I try not to miss
a game!” –Jordan Schraeder
Years at UT:
44
Teaching Tip:
"Build a relationship of trust and respect with each student. Listen."
Tough Tests:
Nicknamed his exams "Vick's Vengeance."
Associate Professor, Social Work | Co-Director, Institute for Grief, Loss, and Family Survival
After earning her master’s degree in social work, Barbara Jones
began her career working with pediatric cancer patients and
their families. The resilience and courage she saw every day
amazed her, but when it came to end-of-life issues, she felt
completely unprepared.
“I kept finding myself literally at the bedsides of kids,” Jones recalls,
“wondering why I didn’t learn this in school. How do you even begin to sit
and talk with a child who is facing his own death?”
A decade ago, Jones says, few health-care professionals were even
talking about pediatric palliative care—let alone studying how to
do it better. She decided to change that. Today, Jones is one of the
world’s foremost experts on the subject, and she’s spent the past
decade at UT’s School of Social Work, teaching future pediatric professionals
how to support families as they deal with grief and loss.
Dozens of Jones’ students have gone on to become social workers,
doctors, child-life specialists, and more. They work at Dell
Children’s Medical Center, M.D. Anderson, and Texas Children’s
Hospital, among other world-class institutions. “Some of the best
moments are when my former students come back to speak to my
classes,” Jones says. “They’re my colleagues now, and I couldn’t
be prouder.” –R.C.
Years at UT:
10
Teaching Tip:
"Be your authentic self."
After Class:
"I'm a black belt in karate."
University Distinguished Teaching Associate Professor, Government
Students trust Sean Theriault. A lot. This fall, the government
professor and 2011 UT Professor of the Year will be officiating the
wedding of a former student. And it’s not the first time.
“That tells me that I’m doing my job,” he says. That job brought
him to UT in 2001, but his first real work was in Washington, D.C.—a place
he now studies from a distance. Like many who trek across the country
to work in politics, Theriault wanted to help, but was discouraged by one
simple thought: someone else was trying just as hard to do the opposite.
That’s politics.
Now he concentrates on educating future voters. He knows that few students
in his introductory American government course are there for fun.
But for Theriault, that’s all the more reason to make the class count, and that
means students come away understanding what they read in the newspaper.
His name even graces those very newspaper pages from time to time, affixed
to an op-ed he’s penned, or in a review of one of his books, which examine
Congress’ partisan behavior.
“If my goal is to persuade members of Congress to behave differently, then
I have the wrong goal,” he says. “But my goal is to get students to understand
how members of Congress are behaving.” His favorite way of doing that?
Theriault rewards his undergraduate
researchers with a trip to Washington, D.C.
“It’s funny,” he notes with a big smile. “I couldn’t wait to get out of that
place, yet I love taking students there.” –A.R.
Years at UT:
13
Surprising or Fun Fact about You:
"I've visited six continents and 49 state capitals (sorry, Tallahassee)."
Teaching Tip:
"Be interested and interesting."
Senior Lecturer, Marketing Administration
In Herbert Miller’s classroom, you aren’t
just a student. You’re a brand. “I always
tell students they are a product,” Miller
says. “People are watching you; you
have to market yourself and your skills to
really wow them.”
A marketing professor of more than 30
years, Miller knows a thing or two about success.
After all, his former students include
Ticket City CEO Randy Cohen and Nike VP
Hans George. Another one of his former students
is Arizona Cardinals linebacker Sam
Acho, whom Miller helped one-on-one to
develop his brand as a student-athlete on
the Forty Acres.
In 2012, two grateful McCombs
alumni established the Herbert A. Miller
Jr. Endowed Dean’s Scholarship in Business,
only the fifth such endowment on campus to
honor a UT professor.
“I got called to the dean’s office, and
when I got there, there was Dean Gilligan, a
development officer, and my wife. I was like,
‘What are you doing here?’” Miller laughs.
“It’s great to have made an indelible impression
on these students with my teaching
skills.”
When he’s not in the classroom showing
off his marketing chops, you will often find
Miller decked out in waders and waist-deep
in a river, fishing rod in hand. The enthusiast
calls fly-fishing an “intellectual pursuit”
rather than a hobby, because it requires
patience and meticulous analysis—whether
he’s at work or not.
“I’ll be up until 3 a.m. preparing for class,
looking for articles to keep my material current,”
Miller says. “Students are going to be
on top of it, so I need to be, too.” –J.S.
Years at UT:
30
Favorite Quote:
"Learning is continual and should be a daily quest."
Teaching Top:
"Inject humor into the classroom."
Memorable Catchphrase:
"Know that you know that you know."
Professor, Theatre and Dance
Lecture? There’s no such thing in Professor Joan Lazarus’ classes.
The 16-year veteran of UT’s theatre and dance department long
ago dispensed with such an antiquated approach. For her, it’s all
about creating a conversation between herself and her students,
who are training to be theater teachers one day.
One strategy Lazarus uses is role-playing. She acts as a middle school
drama teacher; her students become middle-schoolers. Lazarus builds a
structure for the class based on what the students have been studying.
If it’s 20th century American theater, they might explore turn-of-thecentury
immigration from Europe. Lazarus starts by leading a discussion
on what makes a home—and why someone might leave theirs. As
homework, Lazarus has her students develop their thinking by writing
journal entries in character.
A few classes later, they start to act. Scene One: they’re on a steerage
ship from Europe to America. The students are asked to invent storylines
for their characters and then to act them out onstage. The exercises offer
level upon level of teaching and learning.
“The students go in and out of their roles,” she says. “We talk about the
structure of the exercise, the improvisational decisions that were made,
how we learned and on what level.”
The result is something deeper than a traditional classroom experience.
Lazarus takes great care to ensure that she accommodates different
learning styles: those who think out loud, and those who do the opposite.
Too often, students who think, then talk, or who have a learning disability,
silence themselves, so she builds in time for quiet and reflection.
“The whole goal is to have a shift in understanding,” Lazarus says. “If
there’s no shift, then teaching and learning never happened.” –Tim Taliaferro
Years at UT:
16
Teaching Tip:
"Teach the students, not your lesson plan."
Favorite Spot on Campus:
Texas Expresso
Great Quote:
"If you aren't listening, you aren't learning. My students are my partners. For me to just talk isn't teaching."
Retired Clinical Professor, Education
Like any Austinite these days, Joan Shiring often gets stuck in
traffic. But she sees that time as an opportunity rather than a
drag. “Every night, I write down three things I’m thankful for,”
she says. “When I’m stuck on Mopac, I’m usually thinking up
that day’s blessings.”
Gratitude is a daily habit for Shiring. She took it to heart in her early
40s, when she battled colon cancer and breast cancer.
While undergoing grueling chemotherapy treatments, Shiring spent
hours talking with fellow patients in the hospital’s infusion room. It was
the end-of-life patients who affected her most deeply.
“They would grab my hand and ask me, ‘Who have you loved, and who
loved you?’” she remembers. “Love in the broadest sense of the word—
caring, connecting. That’s all that matters in the end.”
Shiring, MEd ’81, PhD ’86, says that beating cancer made her more
grateful for a job she already loved: training future English teachers in
UT’s College of Education, where she spent 32 years, first as a student
and then as a faculty member.
It showed. Former students like Karen Schrader, BS '87, remember
Shiring for her warmth and compassion. “She showed me the impact an
intelligent, caring teacher can have,” Schrader says, “and without her, I
wouldn’t be the teacher I am today.”
Shiring retired last year, but she’s already back in the classroom. “So far
I’ve taken a class on colonial American history, and another one on the
music of George Gershwin,” she says. “I am living it up!” –R.C.
Years at UT:
32
Words to Live by:
"Teaching is the profession that creates all others."
Favorite Spot on Campus:
"The Blanton Museum of Art. It's so peaceful!"
Light Feet:
"I once danced for 22 hours in a charity dance-a-thon."
J. Frank Dobie Regents Professor of American and English Literature
If somebody had told me when I got my PhD
from UT that I’d be back here teaching
Southwestern literature, I would have
laughed,” Don Graham says.
Graham never planned to be a chronicler of
Texan literature, or even a professor. He just liked
reading and writing. After college, he realized he
could make a living at it by teaching. Even then,
teaching Texas literature came by accident.
At the University of Pennsylvania, where Graham
taught in the early 1970s, administrators
asked him to teach a course about Western movies.
“I was a cowboy. That’s the way they perceived
me,” he says. Graham grew up in Lucas, on the
edge of East Texas, where cotton is bigger than
beef and oak outnumbers sagebrush. But that was
all Greek to the Ivy League bunch.
When he returned to teach at Texas in 1976, the
department needed someone to take up legendary
writer J. Frank Dobie’s class, “Life and Literature
of the Southwest.” They picked Graham,
the native Texan.
Since then, he’s watched the state grow and
change through his students, teaching them
about Texas’ vast geographic scope and diverse
literary heritage.
He even makes his students experience the
landscape in person. This semester, his students
went to Barton Springs, not for a swim, but to see
a bronze statue. There, frozen in conversation, sit
writers Walter Prescott Webb, Roy Bedichek, and
Dobie. And there’s still space for a sculptor to add
a bronzed Graham, perhaps observing from a distance.
After all—as he wrote about author Elmer
Kelton—“in Texas writing, the last sanctification
is a damned statue.” –A.R.
Years at UT:
38
Favorite Quote about Learning:
"Only connect." - E.M. Forster
Favorite Spot on Campus:
"Cactus Cafe, after a dusty day's talking."
Former Professor, History | Former Vice Provost for Undergraduate Education
When 18-year-old Ricardo Romo first set foot on the Forty
Acres as a freshman, he had one goal: to run a sub-four
minute mile on the men’s track team. A track-and-field
scholarship had brought the west side San Antonio native
to Austin. Little did he know he’d end up spending a total of 24 years there.
“It was a very, very strange feeling to walk into Garrison from the Main
Building, knowing you’re going to teach a class instead of take one,” says
Romo, who joined UT’s history faculty in 1980 after a stint at UC-San Diego.
In the classroom, Romo’s favorite moments involved seeing the
light bulb go on for students in his civil rights courses.
“Most of my students hadn’t had a deep analysis of the civil
rights era,” Romo says. “Everyone came in with a little bit of
knowledge, and after many spirited discussions, they left with
so much more.”
Romo also served as UT’s vice provost for undergraduate education
before being called up to the helm of another UT System
school, the University of Texas at San Antonio. As the fifth president
of UTSA, Romo has less time for teaching these days. But that
doesn’t mean all those hours in the classroom have gone to waste.
“The main thing I learned in the classroom is that you must
respect the students,” Romo says. “As president, I convey that
same message in focus group meetings with students. I get them
going, talking, and relaxed, which helps me learn. And that’s why
I’m there.” –J.S.
Years at UT:
19
Unique Hobby:
His Mexican-American art collection appears in a book by UT Press.
Record-holder:
Held UT's sub-four-minute mile record for 41 years.
Have a favorite UT professor we didn't mention?
