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Early photographs of Andrew Katz show him bedecked in head-to-toe U-M gear, embracing his family members at football watch parties. So when it came time for him to apply to colleges, “All my friends knew: Andrew wants to go to Michigan,” he says.
The day the admissions announcement came out, he went home from school and sat on his bed. He took a breath, opened the admissions portal on his laptop, and saw the maize and blue streamers light up the screen.
“There were a few seconds of silence, trying to wrap my mind around it,” he says. “And then I just erupted.” Screaming, pumping his fists, he bellowed just as he had when Michigan beat Alabama in the 2024 Rose Bowl. This was his victory—and a symbol of his family’s devotion to U-M.
Andrew forms the newest branch of a deeply rooted LSA family tree. His parents, Rachel and Howard Katz, majored in psychology and English, respectively; his maternal grandparents, Susan Rapaport-Gault and Henry Gault, both majored in psychology and met as undergraduates in LSA. Several of his aunts and uncles also attended U-M, sowing even more seeds.
Families with long histories at U-M are common; the Gault-Katzes are all specifically LSA alums. Michigan events like reunions, football tailgates, and local mixers are part and parcel of their family identity—so much so that they have given generously to the U-M Raoul Wallenberg Institute.
Both Susan and Henry—a psychologist and a psychiatrist, both retired—grew up in Chicago and attended public schools in the 1960s. They had divergent experiences: Henry took part in an accelerated high school program populated by the top 25 students in each grade, where he learned from great teachers and prepared well for college. Susan, on the other hand, felt overwhelmed by the academic excellence demanded of her once she arrived at LSA.
At the time, Susan—who would later recognize that she had a learning disability—hated writing, and she picked her classes based on whether the course had a writing requirement. “If I had to write a paper, I would drop the course,” she says, laughing. “Consequently, I never learned how to write until I went to graduate school. It’s like cutting off your nose to spite your face.”
Though he was successful in high school, the learning curve of U-M proved challenging for Henry Gault (A.B. ’67). “You’ve got the be able to put the facts together and think,” he says.
Though he was successful in high school, the learning curve of U-M proved challenging for Henry. “You’ve got to be able to put the facts together and think,” he says.
When she first got to campus, Susan worked hard to stay on top of academics while also excelling socially. She met lifelong friends during sorority rush and learned soft skills, like empathy and communication, that she would use throughout her life and career. But she still considered herself to be a bit of a rebel. “I thought Susan was a hippie,” Henry says, thinking back to when they were first introduced by one of Susan’s sorority sisters. In contrast to the more fitted styles of the time, “she would dress in these extra-large sweatshirts.”
“He said I wasn’t cool enough for any of his friends,” Susan recalls during an interview at their home outside of Chicago. Henry interjects: “That was a mistake, by the way!”
In classic rebel form, Susan was determined to prove her new crush wrong. Wherever Henry was on campus, Susan happened to make an appearance: a music lit class, the library, the fraternity house. Back then, there were no ice cream shops on campus, so when Henry got a car his junior year, Susan requested one day that he take her to the Baskin-Robbins on Washtenaw Avenue.
“It was April Fool’s Day, 1966. I think it describes the relationship,” Susan quips. The two of them stayed out talking so late, parked in the cemetery, that Susan missed her sorority curfew. For their second date, a boat ride on the Detroit River, Susan swapped her usual baggy sweater for a stylish outfit, complete with a French beret. “I know how to clean up,” she says. “But I never was traditional.”
“As much as I struggled, I am indebted to Michigan... a liberal arts education is so important.”
—Susan Gault (A.B. ’68)
After college, Susan and Henry married and planned their next steps. Henry attended medical school in Illinois while Susan worked as a teacher, supporting their growing family. Their two daughters and son were immediately exposed to “U-M propaganda from day one,” Susan recalls. The family and their community of Michigan alumni would watch U-M sports all year round. The children, particularly their eldest daughter Rachel, picked up the fandom readily.
“Michigan was all I ever knew,” Rachel Gault-Katz (A.B. ’95) reflects. She had grown up in her parents’ expansive U-M community and wanted to be a part of it. “When I got in, I was thrilled,” she says.
But for Howard Katz (A.B. ’90), growing up in Rockland County, New York, didn’t lend itself to the same level of U-M exposure. Both of his parents had gone to colleges in the City University of New York system, and he intended to go to a university on the East Coast. One day, a college counselor offhandedly mentioned Michigan—“You mean the football place?” Howard said—so he went for a visit one weekend and fell in love.
“I didn’t know a single soul when I got there,” he remembers. “I just showed up dead alone.” But the infectious energy on campus called him to Ann Arbor.
As students, both Rachel and Howard took advantage of the broad range of classes at LSA. Rachel started on the pre-med track and made sure to explore other aspects of a liberal arts and sciences. “Those classes opened my eyes to other things, and they taught me things that I wouldn’t have otherwise had the opportunity to learn,” she says. One of them, a course called “Science, Perception, and Reality,” completely shifted the way she approached her psychology major. “It was a different way of thinking,” she says. The course introduced her to the nuances of scientific study in ways that other more traditional courses did not: What did people perceive as real when it came to the sciences? And how did scientists respond?
“As much as I struggled, I am indebted to Michigan ... a liberal arts and sciences education is so important.”
—Susan Gault (A.B. ’67)
—Susan Gault (A.B. ’68)
Ann Arbor has always united this family. "It's infectious around that town," Rachel Gault-Katz says.
Howard also basked in the abundance of learning opportunities at LSA. He took a philosophy class that blew his mind: The professor spent the first half of the semester lecturing about the undeniable existence of God, and the second half teaching why, without question, God did not exist. In addition to schoolwork, he devoted a lot of his time on campus to celebrating what U-M had to offer outside of the classroom: watching the Grateful Dead perform two nights at Crisler Arena in 1989, and in the same week witnessing the men’s basketball team win the national championship.
“Everybody at school ran out of their houses, wherever they were,” he recalls. “And they just ran down to the middle of East U and went crazy.” The unifying experience of Michigan’s “work hard, play hard” mentality led him to advocate for U-M to his family back home. The cheerleading worked: his brother and two younger cousins followed him to U-M.
Rachel, a physical therapist, and Howard, a partner at a holding company in Chicago, never overlapped on campus and didn’t meet until after they had both graduated. But it was Ann Arbor that drew them together. During college, Howard worked at Rick’s American Cafe, where he got one of his friends a job. That friend knew Rachel, who frequently returned to campus to visit her younger sister, then an undergraduate student. “We were just set up on a blind date through Rick’s,” Howard reminisces. Everybody, the couple deadpans, has a story about Rick’s.
When they married in 2000 and settled in Chicago, near Rachel’s family, they knew that they would usher their children into the fold. At their grandfather’s side, Rachel and Howard’s three sons cheered for Michigan every football season. They heard stories from their parents about the “network upon a network upon a network” that grows from attending a place like LSA. When Andrew started thinking about college applications, Rachel reminded him over and over that he didn’t need to choose Michigan. “I wanted it to come from his heart and where he felt like he belonged,” she says.
Andrew did, in fact, find where he belonged. Though an economics major at LSA, he regularly takes English classes, where he’s able to express himself creatively. “It is such an important skill that gets lost today,” he says. “The creative writing I have done helps me in the way I communicate on a day-to-day basis.” For him, learning in the classroom and being a part of a greater Michigan community have been the best parts of his experience. “Ann Arbor is such a special place,” he says. “I’m so lucky to be a part of it.”
That experience is what bonds this family together. The connectivity that comes from being part of the global community of U-M alums is something special, his grandmother Susan says—and she can back it up with science. “Research is showing more and more now that people do better when they have a community,” she explains. “We are social beings.”
Susan, Henry, Rachel, and Howard all encourage building foundations in the liberal arts and sciences. “As much as I struggled, I am indebted to Michigan,” Susan says. “I am not happy with the tunnel vision of the world now. A liberal arts and sciences education is so important.”
Life’s worthwhile endeavors, she argues, can be found in history of art, or theater, or music. At age 18, students don’t need to know what they want to do for the rest of their lives. They should build a broad foundation and blossom—something that LSA helped three generations of her family to do.
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| Release Date: | 11/12/2025 |
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| Category: | Alumni; Students |
| Tags: | LSA; Psychology; Economics; English; LSA Magazine; Social Sciences; Undergraduate Education; Becky Sehenuk Waite; Stephanie Wong |