Purdue News

A life with purpose, a life lived for students You could say it was by accident that J. Alfred Chiscon arrived at Purdue University 44 years ago. But that would not quite fit with his - and Chekov's - theory that "everything is not just wild grass." Chiscon, since stepping off a bus from Wilkes-Barre, Pa., and walking across the Brown Street Bridge to West Lafayette in 1954, has been a biology graduate student, teacher and professor at Purdue. He retires this summer after 44 years in the Purdue School of Science. "I never would have guessed when I got off that bus that I would be here this long," he says. "It's been a neat 40-some years that I wouldn't have given up for anything." Chiscon still is overwhelmed by the kindness and graciousness he experienced during his early years at Purdue. "I have had such wonderful support," he says. "I had department heads and professors who gave me teaching opportunities so I could afford to stay here and who allowed me extra time to finish my doctorate because of my financial obligations. And I had a dear friend and colleague who sent me money after she had graduated so I could eat and continue my studies." There were days, Chiscon says, when he survived for weeks on a cheeseburger and glass of water each day. "I was fully prepared to blow town," he says. "But always there was someone or some thing that allowed me to continue on. Purdue has been filled with remarkable people in that way." As he finished his doctorate, Chiscon planned a move to Florida, where he would become a teacher. But a favorite professor, Jesse Singleton, happened to walk by while Chiscon was eating lunch in the village one day. "He came in and offered me the job of designing and running the laboratories of his new Principles of Biology course," Chiscon says. "I thought it sounded exciting so I said I would be willing to stay awhile and run the labs." "Awhile" has turned into an entire career for Chiscon. Over the years, he's taught and become well-acquainted with more than 50,000 students. Chiscon takes a picture of each of his students - upwards of 1,600 of them every semester - and keeps the photo along with notes about the student on a card in his office. He talks with them before class, invites them to his office and to his home. He writes to them about things that are happening in class and in their lives. He audits classes in other areas so he knows what else his students are learning. If there's one thing he has tried to convey to the thousands he has taught, it's that life has a purpose. Chiscon has written: "It has been my experience that what Purdue offers my students is a new and broad window through which to examine their world. Many seek and find a faith in themselves - a faith that they can learn better than ever before, a faith that they can continue this learning beyond this campus, at levels only dreamed of in their younger years. They learn that life will seldom be just the same, that it will change, and that they have the quality to learn and change with it - successfully, often for the betterment not only of themselves but also for their family, their society, their world. They learn not only why children are born but also how to allow them to be born and survive better." Chiscon, since 1969, has taught a course he developed for nonbiology majors - The Social Impact of the Biological Sciences. "I always thought biology had vast overlaps with any career," he says. "I thought there should be a course for nonmajors. And it turned out to be the most exciting course I'd ever taught. "I've always gotten great enjoyment from showing nonmajors what they can learn from biology. A lot of things that people do every day - really, the things that make them people - are related to biology." Theatrical references come up often in Chiscon's lessons. He uses videotapes of favorite plays to illustrate the interrelationships that exist between biology and the rest of the real world. In one, Thornton Wilder's "Our Town," the stage manager turns minister for a wedding ceremony and addresses the audience as if it were the congregation: "The real hero of this scene isn't on the stage at all, and you know who that is," he says. "Every child born into the world is nature's attempt to make a perfect human being. Well, we've seen nature pushing and contriving for some time now. We all know that nature's interested in quantity. But I think she's interested in quality, too. That's why I'm in the ministry." Chiscon shows that scene to his students and tells them to note the high quality of life that they themselves reflect. He tells them that, like the minister in "Our Town," he is interested in quality, and that is why he teaches. Another of Chiscon's favorites is "The Three Sisters" by Anton Chekov. An army lieutenant says, "Life will be just the same, it does not change, it remains stationary, following its own laws which we have nothing to do with or which anyway, we shall never find out about." Masha, after hearing his statement, looks out at her world and says, "I think we ought to have faith or ought to seek faith, or else life is empty, empty. To live and not to understand why cranes fly, why children are born, why there are stars in the sky ... One must know such things or else in time nothing else matters either, everything's just ... wild grass, all nonsense and waste." Chiscon says he wants his students to learn that things that happen in life have a purpose, that their lives do matter. He knows it. He has experienced it. When J. Alfred Chiscon was an undergraduate student at Bloomsburg State in Pennsylvania, he submitted a paper from a journalism class to an obscure scientific journal as part of his class assignment. The editor of the journal thought Chiscon was a Ph.D. and accepted the paper for publication. Chiscon righted that thinking, admitted to being a mere undergraduate and returned the check for his work. Months later, the editor, a professor at Purdue University, wrote back to Chiscon, enclosed the check, applications to Purdue and a note reading, "If you are not already a Ph.D., maybe you should consider becoming one." Chiscon had no idea where Purdue was. He looked it up on a map and brooded for some time, he says. Then he bought that bus ticket to Lafayette and began what has become an often-honored teaching career. Chiscon's students know about life and know that he is interested in them. "I think they find, as they grow older, that they are coping better because, while they were at Purdue, they were shown how to cope. They read about things and learned about things because we made them. They're astonished at the things that can happen in life, and then they're astonished that what they learned at Purdue kept them on the right track." Chiscon has put thousands of students on the right track through the years, inspiring a need for lifelong learning. Not all were A or B students. But, still, he cared about them. "You can't underestimate any one of your students," he says. "There is life after whatever course you're teaching, and students you wouldn't bet a nickel on at the moment may well wind up living life to the fullest." Was it by accident that Chiscon came to Purdue? Certainly, there was a reason. Thousands of students can tell you that.