Law Professor Aric Short Chosen For The 2025 Inspiring The Spirit Of Aggieland: The 41 Award

Aric Short, the respected law professor, figures the values that he instills in his students would have drawn a scoff from Aric Short, the self-absorbed teenager.

The teenage Short watched his mother, Kit Short, leave early for her classroom, work full days teaching seven-year-olds, then tutor students in the spare room of her Dallas home well into the evening. Aric Short did not know then what to do with his life, but he knew what he did not want to do. His mother’s days were long, he said, “and as an adolescent, that looked like no fun … she was working way too hard, and we weren’t rich, so I thought: ‘This doesn’t make any sense. At all.’”

Yet Kit Short’s lessons took hold as her son’s adolescent brain matured into that of an adult. She cared about serving others. That passion imbued her life with meaning. She felt so passionate about the potential within struggling students that what began as a chance to earn some extra money for the family grew into a willingness to offer after-school lessons pro bono, in the parlance of her son’s profession. Aric Short now says it is his mother’s influence, first and foremost, that inspires him to help aspiring lawyers bring their particular passions and strengths to the law, that fuels his desire to help them deal with the pressures of law school and the years that follow. His mentorship is intended to address some of the profession’s most difficult problems.

That commitment to others, in the spirit of President George H.W. Bush, earned Short the 2025 Inspiring the Spirit of Aggieland: The 41 Award. He accepted the award at a February ceremony.

“He’s a great example of what the spirit of Aggieland is,” said Stephen Vincent ’73, who, along with his wife, Linda Vincent, conceived, founded and endowed the 41 Award. “Aric understands how important these Aggie values are to our students. Through him, our students bring those values out to the wider world.”

‘A Bit Of A Subversive”

Kelsey McKechnie ’24 first sat in Short’s classroom three-and-a-half years ago. She remembers the first thing he told his students. She still finds it surprising: Do not take notes. Put the laptops and legal pads away. “Just listen. Just be a sponge and absorb.”

That approach is so rare it approaches unheard of, according to those who nominated Short for the 41 Award. Yet that Professional Identity course, which he helped create and has taught for a decade, is required of all first-year Aggie law students. The American Bar Association has recognized the class and Short now serves on one of the association’s subcommittees, helping to create new identity-related content for students and lawyers.

Lay the pages of Short’s CV end to end and it stretches to more than twice his height. He graduated magna cum laude from Georgetown University in 1993, earned a law degree from the University of Texas – “A&M wasn’t available” for law school at the time, he told Aggie donors during the 41 Award luncheon, “so don’t hold that against me” – and he has taught law since 2004. He specializes in property, housing, torts (civil claims for personal injury or property damage), leadership development and professional-identity formation. He serves on the board of the DRC, a Fort Worth nonprofit committed to ending homelessness in that community. His numerous teaching accolades include The Association of Former Students Distinguished Achievement Award. In a letter nominating Short for the 41 Award, Texas A&M Law School Dean Robert Ahdieh highlights what school administrators consider Short’s critical work with students.
Ahdieh notes that Short “even led a Zoom Valentine’s (Day) baking class for students with his non-baking wife!”

Short’s demeanor might be described as William H. Macy playing Ted Lasso: an unpretentious, not-quite-awe-shucks persona that keeps his optimism from becoming overwhelming. He never comes across as saccharine, McKechnie said, thanks to a mischievous smile and sly sense of humor.

“I consider myself a bit of a subversive,” Short said in an interview after receiving the 41 Award. He sees law school differently than many of his peers. He wants to reach law students as soon as they begin their studies. He lists several reasons: to impart specific lessons; to reframe law school, in hopes that students will recognize “potentially transformative opportunities”; and to help buoy their spirits amid what is often one of the most difficult years in a lawyer’s life.

The start of law school, the infamous “1L” year, is a grind at every school. Whatever dream has drawn a student to the law can shrink to a flicker amid bleary nights studying among the stacks. Those who arrive wanting to change the world find their ambitions smacking headlong into tomes of seemingly impenetrable case law, some from prior centuries. Those seeking riches or fulfillment find their advancement dependent on effectively parsing the defensible from the specious. Many feel the weight of a life-defining career choice in each test score.

“It can get really dark,” McKechnie said. “Everything feels so monumental.”

Short — formerly an interim dean of Texas A&M’s law school, among other leadership positions – points to various studies showing that the toll of law school, which carries into the professional world, can push lawyers to unhealthy coping mechanisms. Bar associations are looking for ways to address the situation, particularly during the formative years of law school. Short said he does not believe that law school need exact such a psychological toll.

“But given law school’s current form,” he added, “such negative effects are hard to avoid.”

Thus, the Professional Identity program. It emphasizes well-being for students and attorneys. The class is required partly to ensure that Texas A&M Law students graduate with top-shelf legal training. It is also required to help ensure they have meaningful experiences that set them up for long-term success and satisfaction.

“Aric exemplifies the passion and willingness to serve others that President Bush called us to. As his students and associates testify, he goes above and beyond, with commitment and heart.”

‘Just Be Yourself’

Much of the Professional Identity class is reflection. Short often challenges those reflections. He usually does so with a soft, nonjudgmental question: why? Why did you enroll in law school? Why not explore different areas of law? Why go for the highest-paying job and potentially sacrifice a more meaningful career? Why not go for the highest-paying job and the financial security it can bring a family? Why endure such grade-related anxiety when nearly every A&M law student graduates with a job? He often ventures far from black-letter legal rules, talking of leadership, self-awareness, a growth mindset and the power that comes from creating a community and helping others.

He begins with an overview of the various types of law and the options for practicing them. In subsequent classes, he presents survey data showing that employers care about a broad range of skills and traits: writing and analytical skills, yes, but also resilience, teamwork, emotional intelligence, self-direction, willingness to learn from mistakes and the ability to pivot out of failure. He emphasizes the legal profession’s core values, which students will be expected to embody over the course of their careers. He also encourages students to consider their personal values. He reminds them that they are people, first and foremost, “not just robots practicing law,” McKechnie said.

There is practical value to the lessons. Lawyers who learn to deal with pressure in healthy ways are less prone to behavior that hurts their clients. Those who value service to others better serve their clients, as well as their communities. Those who pick the right field of law are less likely to burn out. McKechnie knew, thanks in part to Short’s lessons, that something like family law, and the day-to-day marination in some of the most heart-wrenching emotions a person can experience, “would be rewarding but very difficult.” She chose corporate law partly because it is comparatively dry and permits the emotional space to disconnect from work.

“Aric wants you to know yourself,” McKechnie said.

The Professional Identity course affirmed McKechnie’s desire to mentor, she said. That, in turn, led to her working as one of Short’s teaching assistants during her second year and as his lead TA in her third year. She recalls sometimes needing to discuss banal administrative matters, only to find Short’s office so filled with students that they were sitting on the floor and spilling into the hallway. Some had questions about the law. Many more had questions about life.

In his teaching  — lessons he hopes students will pass on, in word or deed — Short emphasizes the core Aggie values: excellence, integrity, leadership, loyalty, respect and selfless service. These, plus his mother’s influence, lead to his emphasis in the course on pro bono work, which the legal profession considers an ethical obligation but is one that many lawyers sluff aside. They face no professional consequences for doing so. Short sighs as he explains this. He then cites President Bush’s call for service. President Bush believed that service was a necessary part of a full life – and that those who seek money to the exclusion of serving others are actually impoverishing themselves, just in a different way.

‘A Fire To Be Kindled’

Both of Short’s parents taught. He thinks this may explain why both he and his brother are educators. His father worked for several years in the psychology department of what was then West Georgia College, in Carrollton, Ga., where the family lived for six years. Kit Short taught at various schools around Dallas before the move and, upon returning, taught at the Lower School at St. Mark’s School of Texas. She fretted when her students struggled. Celebrated when they succeeded. Probed for ways to connect with them as they sat around a square wooden table inlaid with a chess board in the family’s spare room, seeking to unlock and explore “their passions and their unique talents.” Her overall approach, Short said, is best summarized with an adage commonly attributed to Plutarch, the Greek historian: “The mind is not a vessel to be filled but a fire to be kindled.”

“I don’t think my mom had a lot of time to read Greek philosophy,” Short said. “But she certainly lived out Plutarch’s vision of great teaching.”

Kit Short died while her son was studying law, he said. “She never got to see me follow in her footsteps into teaching … but I hope she’s proud. And on my very best days in the classroom, my goal, at least, is to light a fire in my students. Just like I know she lit a fire in hers.”

Short dedicated his award to his mother. It was a fitting gesture, said Vincent, the 41 Award founder, a gesture in keeping with his reasons for creating the award. Vincent’s thinking: President Bush’s values are the foundation of the Bush School; the school exists to spread those values to the wider world, like ripples in a pond; the 41 Award was created to recognize Aggies who create such ripples; Short is worthy of the award in part because he recognizes that the proverbial rock that sent his ripples outward, to the benefit of so many others, was his mother.

There is a direct line from Kit Short to McKechnie. McKechnie wants to mentor and support young lawyers — much as Aric Short mentored her and continues to offer perspective. He recently emailed her to ask if she would participate in this article. In a brief back-and-forth, he asked how she was doing, five months into the life of a corporate lawyer. She told him that it has been a challenging, eye-opening experience. Many days, dispiriting.

“As a first-year attorney, you’re constantly making mistakes,” she said. “And it’s really hard for a perfectionist, type-A personality to be feeling like you’re constantly letting everybody down.”

She and Short talked through the anxieties and difficulties. He offered his mix of encouragement and honesty. He made wry jokes. His final thought: “They’re also lucky to have you. Remember that.”