Distinguished Alumni
Holly Rowe
The 2025 Distinguished Alumni Award recipient is Holly Rowe, Emmy Award-winning ESPN sports reporter and alumna of the Department of Communication. Rowe’s “firsts” as a sports journalist include covering the first Utah women’s basketball game ever aired on the radio in the early ’90s, and making history in 2021 as the first female commentator to cover a Utah Jazz game.
Rowe, who graduated with a BA in Journalism in 1991, has dedicated much of her career to telling the stories of women’s sports. She has covered the College Football National Championships, the Women’s Final Four, WNBA Championships, the Softball World Series, and much more, including covering every step of Caitlyn Clark’s record-breaking basketball career at the University of Iowa and entry into the WNBA. She also hosts, along with her son, the “Call Your Mom” podcast and founded the nonprofit Joy + US to spark joy in the lives of those who need it most.
"I’m really happy to be here! Every time I drive up the hill to come to the U, I’m excited and optimistic. If I could just come back and spend every day of my life going to classes that would be a dream for me. I just saw they’ve got an intro to Buddhism class that I want to take if I can get that going!
I had a very clear vision when I got here as a student. I grew up as an absolutely sports-obsessed kid. I started out going to football games here with my dad when I was about five years old. I have lived every moment of every Utah sporting event throughout the course of history, and I really appreciated that as a little kid. I remember writing a report when I was 12 years old, and the title of my report was, “I love sports.” So I just think it’s really cool that I’ve grown up and now I’m getting paid to watch sports. I think that’s pretty cool, that that 12-year-old girl followed that dream and has made it a living and a way to have income.
My dad was a really cool guy. He went to the University of Utah, where he got his law degree. My dad was really into sports, and he took me to everything. One of my best memories there used to be this place downtown Salt Lake City called the Deseret Gym. Did anyone ever go to the Deseret Gym? It was the best place.
We went there every Saturday, and my dad would make us play pickup basketball. And you know how pickup works—you have to win to stay on the court. The only problem was my dad was five foot three, and all of his daughters are five three or shorter. We’re out there on the court, boxing out against grown men; they’re on their noon break from work, but my dad insisted that we compete. I believe that learning how to be competitive at a young age has been an essential part of my life.
This world is competitive—life is competitive. We have to teach our young people how to be competitive, because that’s what life is. I’m really grateful that my dad, Del Rowe, taught me how to be competitive at a young age, and my mom, Diane Rowe, she taught me how to work hard. We would get up at six o’clock every morning and weed in the garden or work in the garden. And I mean, I know how to can corn, can peaches, can tomatoes. My mom really taught me how to work hard, and working hard has helped make me who I am today.
I always wanted to be a reporter, and as a student at the University of Utah, I started writing about hoops. I took a Coaching Basketball class at the University of Utah with basketball coach Rick Majerus, and of course I got an A—I was very good! I impressed Rick enough that he wrote me a letter of recommendation so I could go to CBS Sports in New York City. I was the only intern they had ever brought in outside of the New York area, and part of it was because of Rick Majerus. I proved to him that I wasn’t just a student that was like, “Oh, I want to show up and go to the games.” I wanted to do the hard work. I learned how to do scouting reports. I wrote good articles about them, and I was fair. That impressed him.
That internship later helped me get my first job at ESPN. I’ve been with ESPN or 30 years now, and I’m really proud of that. It isn’t easy. You know, you have to show up for work every week. And now, listen, I’m showing up to do a football game. How hard could that be, right? But I am very, very proud that in 30 years, I have only missed one college football Saturday because I got COVID, and that was not my fault. I have shown up.
Student Speaker
Muskan Walia
Muskan Walia is the 2025 Exemplary Undergraduate and Convocation Speaker in the College of Humanities. Muskan was initially a mathematics major, but she was not comfortable studying “math in a vacuum.” When an academic advisor recommended a philosophy of science class, she found the right fit for the social issues she wanted to work on. She says, “I realized that my math classes grounded me when I grappled with big questions that came up in philosophy, and my philosophy courses gave purpose to the quantitative methodology I learned in my math classes.”
Next fall, Muskan will be starting her PhD in Computational Public Policy at Harvard and NYU, developing mathematical models that investigate dynamics of complex systems to design policy interventions. Her goal is to “be a leader of a multi-disciplinary research team, bridge the academic-practitioner divide, and shift the narrative of mathematics.”
The boundary between the air and the body disappears with a breath. The inhalation is no different from the atmosphere, the exhalation the same as the sky.
My humanities education has taught me that the lines we draw are, in fact, imagined. It has also asked me: what do I imagine?
I am drawn to disrupt the regularly scheduled programming. Acting outside of the status quo is my form of protest.
I did this in my education by pairing mathematics and philosophy. I am attracted to the linear narrative of mathematics; the charm of logically following sets of assumptions to their mathematical conclusions is enchanting. However, studying philosophy has allowed me to grapple with the idea that nothing is accomplished if you neglect fostering human decency in the face of human suffering. My education, above all, has encouraged me to understand that who I am is not prescribed to me by a set of beliefs but sculpted by the way I act at the crux of when truth and goodness are on the line.
My philosophy of science education has anchored my mathematics education. While math has provided me with formal techniques to answer questions, my philosophy of science coursework has strengthened my ability to ask questions and understand how mathematics can frame and address social issues. This has allowed me to explore nontraditional applications of mathematics, collaborate across the imagined lines between disciplines, and inform policy through different lenses.
Noticing the impact of oppressive systems on my own community has implored me to imagine: What does a just community look like? How can we create solutions that retain people’s security, stories, and hope? These are questions that force us into action, to give our lives to something greater than ourselves, force us to do things we are scared to do, and to show up in places that we’re scared to be. And while it takes the greatest amount of emotional labor to fight against the forces that scare us the most, I organize around issues that impact my community directly because the meaning of advocacy should be made by the people who need it, the “people closest to pain should be the closest to power.”
This is a day to celebrate we...
we who put wind in the sails of ideas
And as I stand here, it is extremely clear to me that my story is not my own. Today is to celebrate our friends, family, professors, champions, and so many others who give up their time and their energy and their effort to make this work. This is a day to celebrate we, we who don’t just act on issues, but activate those around us. We who rally—behind each other, every person, and ideas. We who put wind in the sails of ideas that create space for things that may be completely brand new, ideas that push the needle forward and help us feel justice, foster respect, kindness, and compassion and encourage us to take care of each other.
I stand here on the sturdy shoulders of the many people who have come before me, stood beside me, and challenged me, many who showed me how to be a good steward of relationships and helped me understand the importance of building people up and leaving them better than you found them. My journey involves a whole community. This appreciation and celebration that “I am because we are;” it’s what connects you to me.
And as we take our next step, as humanities graduates, we must continue to rally around art, passion, and people to build collective power, the type of power that no one is going to silence or dismantle, power that is passed through stories and acts of resistance. And by allowing the people we meet to touch our hearts and shift our focus from “me” to “we,” we will all rise together.
Congratulations, Class of 2025.
