Front and Center: Dakota Bibbs
Published on Monday, February 10, 2025
By: Gary Pettus, gpettus@umc.edu
Photos By: Jay Ferchaud/ UMMC Communications
The office of Dakota Bibbs, medical student advising director, is meant to make you feel at home; the fish, Veronica and Oscar, do their part.
Inside their cozy glass house, the goldfish-suckerfish pair manifest a soothing presence as part of the intentionally placed furnishings in Bibbs’ domain, along with the mini-fridge of soft drinks to restore the parched of spirit; the basket of fidget toys to comfort the anxious of heart; the snack-stuffed cabinet to pacify the hangry of stomach; and the collection of stickers to amuse the puckish of mind (“Certified quality,” “Laboratory tested”) – because medical students love stickers.
“Dakota’s office is probably my favorite location on campus,” said Ruby Hall of Jackson, a fourth-year medical student. “It’s a super-relaxing, welcoming environment, which can be really helpful when you’re stressed out. And he has a mini-fridge.”
The person responsible for this hospitality has been a Starbucks barista/coffee master, Chick-fil-A manager (starting at age 14 before working his way up to director) and high school teacher.
But he believes he may have found his calling with his current position at the University of Mississippi Medical Center, where, according to a sliver of his official job description, he is “responsible for monitoring and servicing the collective holistic needs of medical students … .”
Unofficially, in his own words: “I help students be successful academically. And I try to give that feeling of belonging to others, the way it was given to me when I was a student.
“This is probably the best job I have ever had.”
During his childhood in Southaven, he may have seemed an unlikely prospect for academia. He was brought up by his grandmother, Brenda Driver, and his grandfather, Larry Driver – who couldn’t read. But he did respect the value of literacy.
“Part of the reason I wanted a career in higher education was my grandfather’s influence,” Bibbs said. “He was a plumber. He always told me he didn’t want me to have to work as hard as he did. He didn’t want me to struggle.”
Larry Driver brought his grandson books, including one that helped children learn a foreign language. Bibbs was 5. “My grandfather thought speaking Spanish was a valuable skill,” he said.
It was. In college, Bibbs minored in Spanish, studied abroad in “the Golden City” of Salamanca and, later, taught it so well he was named Madison County Schools’ New Teacher of the Year. Today, he helps teach the Spanish elective for medical students.
When his grandfather died a few years ago, Bibbs absorbed “probably the biggest loss of my life. He was the best.”
His grandparents’ sway endures, though, including in this way: “I’m 33,” Bibbs said, “but sometimes I feel like I’m in my fifties – I was raised by 60- and 70-year-olds.”
He could be one of the most dynamic, imitation 50-year-olds ever.
“The first impression most of my class had of him was during one of his presentations,” Hall said. “He threw his shoe across the room. It kind of took us aback.”
(Bibbs was making a point, he recalled: “There will be some days that learning in medical school will be so difficult that you will just want to throw your shoe!” Then, he showed them how.)
For Rylee Story of Hurley, her first glimpse into the mind of Bibbs came during student orientation. “He asked everyone their nicknames,” the first-year student said.
“My first impression was that this was a really weird question to ask someone you just met. It showed us that he was ready to know all of us.
“Dakota’s personality is one you have to love from the beginning. He’s fun and loud and he’s going to make you laugh even when you don’t want to. We didn’t expect to have someone like him in medical school.”
Not that his job isn’t weighty and serious. His list of responsibilities is impressive, even in a setting where CV’s can be Russian-novel length. In short, he helps students improve their test-taking skills, prepares them for standardized exams, monitors their grades and offers them a “listening ear.”
“When you don’t know who else to go to, you go to Dakota,” Story said. “When you don’t do well on an exam, he is someone you can talk to about it instead of an administrator. He’s more of a friend.
“His favorite words are, ‘What can I do to help?’
“Even when we don’t do well, he puts a good face on it: ‘If you made it this far, you’ll make it to the finish.’ He ends his emails with: ‘You’re going to be a great doctor one day, I promise.’”
In Hall’s view, “part of Dakota’s role is just to listen to what we might need to get off our chest,” she said. “He helped me a lot my first and second years, when it’s hard to adjust.”
But it’s not all snacks, sodas and stickers, or unconditional affirmation.
“Sometimes, it’s suggesting to the students some hard truths, like, ‘Have you ever considered that you’re getting in your own way?’” Bibbs said.
“My first couple of years, I always wanted to make them feel good, but I’ve realized that sometimes they need tough love, too.”
A graduate of Arkansas Tech University with a Master of Arts in College Student Personnel, Bibbs, who is pursuing his Doctor of Education, has been at the Medical Center four years. At first, his job title was academic counselor, until his responsibilities grew over the years and his title changed last summer to reflect that.
“I love the people I work with,” he said. “I have a great boss who allows me to grow and learn, and who challenges me.”
His boss is Dr. Loretta Jackson-Williams, vice dean for medical education, who interviewed him for his original position. She kept her notes: … very understanding, has a passion for students. Good with people, approachable, flexible, able to be autonomous. He has grit.”
“It’s all proven to be true,” Jackson-Williams said. “He is good one-on-one, but also at that higher level of planning and putting a process in place to help people. He has tweaked everything we had and improved on it.
“And it’s obvious that he must keep the students’ confidence because I have never heard concerns expressed about this, and students are generally very honest.
“He is outgoing and jovial, but he is also serious about the work he does.”
Last year, he met with students more than 1,000 times, Bibbs said. “For a while, I had to chase them down. “I’ve been told doctors don’t make good patients. And students sometimes believe they aren’t allowed to take care of themselves.”
For many medical students, the process of self-care may begin in Bibbs’ office, where they can fidget and snack to their heart’s content, and gaze wistfully at Veronica and Oscar living in their fishbowl. And, as they try to meet the world’s expectations, perhaps think to themselves: “I know just how those fish feel.”
The provider of this sympathetic space “has become an important part of our medical school time,” Hall said. “We’re lucky to have Dakota. I believe we all care about him a lot.”