Although every BIC professor is fantastic, there are a handful of names that stick out in most students’ minds as intrinsic to the BIC machine—teachers that, were they to suddenly pack their bags and move to Slovakia or some other obscure place (like Montana or something), would take with them a special part of BIC legend. Dr. Stacey Hibbs, famous around BIC circles for her enthusiastic appreciation of Aristotle and for giving out candy on test days, is one such professor.
“Everything begins and ends with the students,” she said when I asked her what part of her Baylor career she was most proud of. Not just influencing students who go on to achieve amazing things, she clarified. Dr. Hibbs is most proud of being in a position to help the students who come to her with their problems, who want to talk to her about their “rough patches.”
“That’s great,” I said. I meant it too. In a world that puts so much pressure on academics to be the very best in their fields and that pushes them to compete with their colleagues for any kind of recognition, sometimes professors can put their obligations to their students on the backburner. It is obvious that Dr. Hibbs’ students have nothing to worry about.
“Do you have a favorite Baylor memory?” I asked her.
“All my memories involve my students,” she said, true to form. She told me about one student of hers a few years ago that began selling contraband t-shirts when Baylor beat Texas A&M in football. “I bought one from him and then watched him get chased down the street by BU security,” she said, laughing. “And two of my other students a couple of years later, on the last day of class, dressed up as a banana and a gorilla and chased each other around my classroom!” They said they wanted to make sure that she would remember them, Dr. Hibbs told me.
I broached a new topic and asked Dr. Hibbs about her hobbies or if she had any quirky habits that she would care to share. With more excitement than I could understand, she said, “I love to do yardwork!” Not gardening or anything like that, she said, but real pioneer stuff, like cutting down trees and landscaping—stuff so that you can see the difference between when you start and when you finish. There was an outdoorsy glow in her eyes as she said this—the same kind of glow my parents got whenever they used to tell me that it was yard day and that I should find some work gloves and get ready to sweat. It made me nervous just thinking about it.
“My parents love yard work too,” I told her. “It’s hard for me to see the appeal, though.”
She laughed and said that it was probably a generational thing. “Sure,” I said as I clung nervously to my smartphone and my privilege.
Finally, I asked Dr. Hibbs to explain Baylor to me in three words. It is the shortest question on the list that I ask my interviewees, but it is consistently ranked the most difficult, and Dr. Hibbs told me she thought long and hard about it.
“Warm,” she said, not meaning the weather. “And rising, and engaging.” And with that, she left to go leap tall buildings in a single bound or to put out forest fires or to do whatever it is that BIC professors do in their free time.
Thanks, Dr. Hibbs, for taking time out of your busy schedule to give a few words to all of us trying to live the examined life, and thanks for putting your whole self into your teaching. We all really appreciate it.
Chelsea Teague is a sophomore BIC student majoring in professional writing.
Great job, Chelsea!