Kira Mills

I hope that you are all just as excited as I am about where life may take you, and about all the new ideas you’re going to learn and the new people you’re going to meet. I hope that you remember the importance of helping others and that even the smallest acts can have a major impact on the people around you.

Kira Mills
Kira Mills

Hello everyone. Graduating students, faculty and staff, family and friends. I am so honored to have been

nominated for and given the chance to stand up here and speak to you all.

Before I begin, I want to make sure all of you realize how special and important this moment is. After

years of hard work and dedication, you have all earned this degree. If you have not yet taken a moment

to let that sink in, to recognize how momentous this occasion is, please use today to do so. This is a time

in your lives I am sure you will always remember. It represents a turning point in your journey, no matter where life takes you. And the education you have received, the experiences you’ve gained, here at UTD, is something no one will be able to take away from you. And I hope that when you look back on your time here, you can see the value in that and can appreciate just how special it is that you have achieved this.

For those of you who don’t know me, which is most of the people here today, I have spent the past 5 ½ years at UTD working toward my PhD. I have had the privilege to spend those years doing the science that I love, teaching chemistry to many of you graduating today, working with faculty and staff across the campus, and simply interacting with so many people on this campus and in this community. Despite the hard work and late nights, the slight emotional breakdowns when my experiments failed, and the imposter syndrome taking over, I have genuinely loved my time here. However, growing up, I had no idea I would one day be studying chemistry. For most of my life, I didn’t even know it was a thing people could do.

If you had asked me when I was 5 what I wanted to be when I grew up, I’d have told you a zookeeper because I just wanted to feed animals. At 8, I’d have said a secretary because my mom used to take me to work with her and let me play with office supplies and organize things. But it turns out you have to talk on the phone a lot for that job, which is not one of my strengths. At 11, I would have said a musician because I thought people who could play multiple instruments were so talented, and my dad was helping me learn to play the guitar. Spoiler alert: music is pretty hard and despite my efforts, I’m mediocre at best. At 13, I’d have told you a librarian. At 15, I’d have wanted to own a ranch. At 17, moving out and starting college on my own, I’d have said a vet. At 19, I learned about chemistry for the first time, and realized I liked it. At 21, I wanted to be a synthetic organic chemist. But during my undergrad I gave myself chemical burns, and in grad school I thought I’d never smell again after pouring waiter into acid. And now, at 27, I’d tell you I want to be a science communicator, helping researchers bridge the gap between what they do and the general public who benefits from it. But, if someone offered me a lot of money to open my own antique shop, I don’t think I’d turn them down.

I tell you this because, at so many of the career development events I’ve had the privilege of attending, there’s often a discussion about what it means to be successful. And one of the most common definitions I hear is setting a goal and achieving it. Making 5-year, 1-year and 3-month plans and checking off each box along the way. And don’t get me wrong, I think that is incredibly helpful for a lot of people. But, by that standard, I don’t know if I have ever been truly successful. I failed at music, at being a secretary or librarian, at working with animals, at being an organic chemist. And it’s not because I wasn’t passionate enough or I didn’t want it enough, although I will say I did actually fail horticulture and an English class. It’s because as I’ve grown and experienced new things and met new people, I’ve found things I’m more passionate about. And I’m sure most of you have similar experiences. If you were lucky enough to find the thing you wanted to do for the rest of your life when you were young, and you get to achieve it during your lifetime, you should be proud of yourself. But, if like me, it’s taken some time and some winding paths to get here, I want you to know you should be equally proud.

Changing your goals and plans is not a sign of failure, it’s proof that you have grown and learned from your experiences. So, instead, I’d like to share with you how I have defined success for myself over the past several years. I believe being successful means leaving a place better than it was when you arrived, even in what may seem like the smallest of ways. If you had the privilege of volunteering, you made this place better. If you were able to be part of a research group and expand your knowledge in a field — even if it’s just how not to do something — then you’ve made this place better. If you taught or tutored, you made this place better for other students. If you gave a pep talk to a friend, helped them cram for a test or even helped them think about something other than school for just a minute, you made this place better for that person. And maybe you aren’t even aware of the impact you’ve had. Maybe you had a conversation with a member of the faculty or staff that stuck with them. Maybe just by existing here, as you are, with all of the aspects that make you uniquely you, you have helped someone else realize they belong here too and made this place better.

And so, I hope that as you leave this place, you define success in a way that fits you. I hope that as you go off to start your career or the next step of your educational journey, you remind yourself that changing your goals is not a sign of failure. I hope that you are all just as excited as I am about where life may take you, and about all the new ideas you’re going to learn and the new people you’re going to meet. I hope that you remember the importance of helping others and that even the smallest acts can have a major impact on the people around you.

Thank you for giving me this opportunity, and congratulations again to the graduating Class of 2023, and the family and friends who helped you get to this point.


Kira Mills is graduating with a PhD in chemistry. She joined UT Dallas in 2018 after receiving her bachelor’s degree in chemistry from Texas A&M University-Commerce. She was a McNair Scholar there. At UTD, she wrote her dissertation under the supervision of Dr. Hedieh Torabifard. She has excelled in research, teaching, service and leadership. She has won awards for her research, including those from Merck and NVIDIA. She was invited to write a book chapter with her advisor based on her research. She worked as a TA for various chemistry courses and won the Outstanding Graduate Teaching Assistant Award for her department in 2022. She served as the president of the Chemistry Graduate Student Association. She played a key role in resurrecting the association after it was shut down due to COVID-19. She actively volunteers in the local community — fostering dogs for local shelters, and during winter freezes, organizing donation drives and distributing care packages to homeless people to keep them warm. In her free time, she likes to hike and explore nature. She is fascinated by abandoned buildings. In fact, she held her wedding in an abandoned building in East Texas.