No one wants to grow up impoverished, says Lakshmi Reddi. No one should grow up with unequal access to education. And yet, growing up in southern India, in an Andhra Pradesh community that prioritized agriculture over education, seems to have given him an upper hand in life.

“I view my childhood poverty as an opportunity rather than a curse,” says UNLV’s new provost and executive vice president. “I had the advantage of having uneducated parents who understood that there is a significant difference between being educated and valuing education.” 

In his father, Reddi had a natural model for the kind of graduate American public universities aim to develop — someone who draws upon a breadth of knowledge across disciplines to solve problems.

The elder Reddi taught himself about electricity and was the first to introduce it to their town, where the economy was built around growing rice, a water-intensive crop. He used it to devise a water management system. 

“He served as the de facto engineer for the entire town,” Reddi says. “His efforts to contain water were my inspiration. I saw engineering as a way to complete something meaningful for mankind.”

Reddi often began his days walking alongside his father to the market several miles away to sell their eggs. And in the evenings, he’d sit with his parents as his father smoked a cigar. “He was a magnificent storyteller, singer, and painter,” Reddi recalls. “He possessed a natural talent for all the arts, balancing his practical engineering skills with an innate gift for narrative.”

And so Reddi followed his father’s example of valuing education as he became formally educated himself.

He was awarded scholarships to cover the costs of high school that his parents could not afford. He became the first in his village to go to college, earning a civil engineering degree from Jawaharlal Nehru Technological University. Prestigious fellowships and a master’s and Ph.D. followed at Ohio State University. 

As an academic, he’s authored or edited nine books and more than 120 technical publications and served in numerous teaching and leadership positions at public universities in Florida and Kansas. He came to UNLV from New Mexico State University, where he was dean of its engineering college and most recently served as interim provost. 

He couples his academic service with “a lifelong love affair with the humanities,” prolific journal writing, and a penchant for authoring opinion columns on a variety of topics. 

“I have seen many well-educated people who do not truly value what they have,” he says. “While I am STEM-trained and my professors taught me how to apply logic, the fine arts and liberal arts taught me to enjoy the process of thinking and to not get caught up in binary notions of right and wrong. I think this is equally necessary for a fulfilling, enchanted, and enriched life.”  

Outside of academia, few people understand what a provost does. What is your description?

Simply put, to make space for every student, faculty member, and staff member to succeed. That word “space” is a beautiful word — it’s about creating a healthy, enjoyable, open, and candid environment to express learning and challenge one another.

Do you have a workplace pet peeve?

Being too serious all the time. Some people approach all situations with such gravity, as if everything is a crisis. We do do serious work, but we can enjoy each other’s company as we do so. 

We often forget that there is always a tomorrow and that we often have the power to change the situation — and our mindset — for the better. Let’s make sure we allow the time to come to the right decision, not just the fastest one.

And what’s a tiny delight, a small moment that brings you personal joy?

Any time there’s a moment with a human touch, like someone simply noticing an interesting detail or saying a kind word as we depart. 

Writing also gives me so much joy. Before I leave on Fridays, I try to write several thank-you cards. They are not obligatory; they are not sent with a motive for people to think well of me. They are expressions of genuine gratitude for our interaction. 

I write the notes by hand because I love using fountain pens and being connected to the art of writing. I write extensively in journals — I have maybe 160 now and many dedicated to various topics. I write in my native tongue, Telugu, as well as in English. It is therapeutic for me.

Do you have a favorite fountain pen?

Right now, it is one from Sailor of Japan. I like very fine tips, even though they are not easy to maintain. I also appreciate German-made pens for the engineering and craftsmanship. 

You’ll be the featured speaker for the Graduate College’s “My Professional Origin Story” series on Sept. 30. As a preview, can you tell us about a defining moment in your education?

As a teenager, I had a mentor who made me believe I could be a scholar and he encouraged me to pursue engineering despite the intense competition to gain admissions in India. He gave me confidence. It’s not so much one moment that was transformative, but the feeling I have when I remember his simple beautiful smile. When I felt discouraged, he showed me how to stand back up and move on. He taught me how to fail as much as he taught me how to succeed.

I had a similar experience after Ohio State University granted me admissions with a prestigious fellowship and led me to immigrate to the United States. It was an unbelievable period when people who knew I did not come from an elite background steered me in the right direction. I found that same thing again as I became interested in administration.

This is why I tell people that mentorship does not have to be time-consuming or confined to a classroom. First-generation students — like myself, like UNLV has — often just need a proactive nudge or words of comfort to know they belong. 

What photo have you chosen to share during your Origin Story talk?

I must admit that I am still searching for a suitable photo. In my community — and remember that my childhood was a long time ago — we simply didn’t have photographs taken. 

Considering your devotion to writing, by hand no less, what are your thoughts on AI? 

I see AI as a welcome development and an equalizing tool. But much like the radical shifts brought by email and the internet, there are good and bad ways to use it. The misuse of a tool should not be blamed on the tool itself.

AI is pushing the envelope in terms of the knowledge we have at our fingertips, and I use that word "knowledge" carefully. Knowledge is useful and important — it is what we are all here for — but acquiring knowledge is separate from the act of being human. 

The World Economic Forum conducted a beautiful study on the future of AI. It suggests that in the age of AI and equal access to technology, your competitive advantage is your humanity. 

As a human being, you have your own unique perspective based on your individual experiences. This allows you to think in a way that can be better than AI, better than the collective knowledge of all your peers combined. By the very nature of your experiences, you can offer something new.

Also, I think of my mentor who sparked something in me with his smile, with his human connection. AI can’t mimic that, at least not in my lifetime.

Do you have a favorite author?

I admire the work of Nobel laureate Rabindranath Tagore of India. I also appreciate Parker J. Palmer’s writings on higher education, as he articulates many profound philosophical thoughts on the subject.

What do you hope readers take away from your origin story? 

Thinking back on my upbringing, I have such joy. I strongly believe that we mold our own future through our choices. So I hope our students look to education to facilitate their own upward social mobility, and I hope our faculty and staff remember to offer those small moments of kindness and mentoring along the way.