How Five Deans Created Their Own Band

BY Krissi Micklethwait in 40 Acres May | June 2026 on April 24, 2026
The Deans List performing at Cactus Cafe.
Martinez banters with the fans during a gig at the Cactus Cafe.

On a late Friday afternoon in fall 2024, as students and faculty trickled out of the Main Building for the weekend, a group of deans showed up ready for business. They headed to the second-floor conference room, carrying amps, guitars, and a drum kit—hauling it up the stairs, piece by piece, from the parking lot. Curious onlookers stopped and watched as the group of University leaders shed their demanding academic duties, plugged in, tuned up, and began to play.  

As the sound filled the room, Rich Reddick, BA ’95, Life Member, Distinguished Alumnus, senior vice provost for undergraduate education, realized the group—whom he organized to play that day—might actually need some clearance for amplified music in the Main Building. He texted then-President Hartzell, PhD ’98, Life Member, and invited him to come down. Hartzell showed up, took in the scene and said...“Play ‘Free Bird’!”

“So, yeah, he gave us clearance. And he was our first fan,” Reddick says. “We are such stuffed-shirt deans, going to meetings and wearing suits all day, and there we were, in one of the academic rooms just rocking out, playing Tom Petty.”  

Thus began The Dean’s List, a band aptly named, with Reddick on bass; Bobby Chesney, dean of the School of Law, on lead guitar; Sam Poloyac, dean of the College of Pharmacy, on drums; Allan Cole, dean of the School of Social Work, also on bass; and Charles Martinez Jr., dean of the College of Education, on vocals and rhythm guitar.  

Reddick and Martinez had played music together informally for years, but what started as loose, after-hours jam sessions soon took on a life of its own. A few additions solidified the group: First was Sam Poloyac, a lifelong drummer who loves playing loudly. (Yes, the dean of the College of Pharmacy is a drummer.)

“Sam became an instant catalyst, because he’s a drummer,” Martinez says. “The thing is, Sam just wants to hit the drums as loud as possible. So mostly we were playing punk rock songs and B-sides—things that are fun to play, but not necessarily songs people would know.” 

Allan Cole playing bass.
Cole playing bass guitar.

 Then Allan Cole joined. Cole, who has Parkinson’s, started playing bass at 55 after encouragement from his daughter, a first-year Plan II student and fellow musician. (Cole is also in a band called Movement Disorder, a tongue-in-cheek nod to his diagnosis.) “I said to my daughter after one of her performances that one of my life regrets is that I never learned how to play a musical instrument,” Cole says. “I had about 10 excuses, and she said, ‘When you’re done with the excuses, call me.’ And I did.”  

Soon, Cole turned his detached Hyde Park garage into a studio for himself and his daughter to share as a practice space. He offered to host his newfound bandmates, and practice sessions began to tick up. They’re busy fellas, after all, and finding a convenient location—not in the Main Building—really helped with momentum.  

When Bobby Chesney, who also plays in a band called The Deep Eddies, joined on lead guitar, the band locked in. “We realized that Bobby’s in a band, and he’s serious. It really took us to new places,” Martinez says. “That’s when we gained mystique—people noticed us hanging out.”  

The band gained some campus buzz and soon booked their first official gigs. They played an opening event for the School of Social Work, then they played “Devchella,” an annual celebration hosted by UT Development. And as many a band will tell you, playing any kind of “chella” can really elevate your profile. But the rockin’ Longhorn deans are not letting it go to their heads.  

“The mystique is hilarious,” says Chesney. “People are like, ‘You guys are in a band? Get out of here!’ But it seems very appropriate, at UT Austin, that there’s a group of deans who are in a band together. If that’s going to happen at any university in the country, it should be here.”  

Rich Reddick on bass.
Reddick playing bass guitar.

The Dean’s List is admittedly leaning on curiosity to build its initial fanbase. “I think a lot of people came out because they thought it was interesting,” Martinez says. “Five goober deans playing music … And the reaction was kind of the same: ‘I figured you’d suck, but you were actually okay!’” It’s a low bar, Martinez admits, but one they all agree they’ve cleared.  

If the attention came easily, figuring out how to play together was a little trickier. “Every band has to have a leader, right? The funniest part is trying to put five leaders together and figure out who’s going to lead,” Poloyac says about establishing the band’s seemingly easygoing dynamic. “We’ve all had to find each other’s groove.”

Though the bandmates don’t always share the same taste in music, they seem to have found a sweet spot—one that keeps audiences bobbing and swaying and singing along. At a recent standing-room–only show at UT’s Science Fest, the setlist ranged from Van Morrison to the Eagles and (much to the delight of hard-hitting drummer Poloyac) the Ramones.  

“We have creative differences occasionally,” says Cole. “The cool thing is we genuinely like each other. We’re friends, we’re colleagues.” The bandmates even have an eponymous group chat together—the truest mark of friendship.

In the pressure cooker that is academia, every member of The Dean’s List agrees that playing in the band, more than anything, is a joyful way to let loose and connect. “It’s the release valve,” Chesney says. “We get to go just rock out.” 

CREDIT: Matt Wright-Steel