Alumni from the ’70s will remember Jerry Waldvogel as the quarterback who led the Cardinal to victory. He still throws a mean spiral, but most of his passing today is of a different kind: the passing of knowledge from professor to student.
Waldvogel, a former biological sciences major who has taught the subject at Clemson University for 13 years, recently won one of his profession’s highest teaching honors: the Outstanding Undergraduate Science Teacher Award, bestowed last March by the Society for College Science Teachers. Just three months earlier, Clemson presented him with its Class of ’39 Award for Faculty Excellence.
Waldvogel’s offbeat methods are wildly popular with students, though he jokingly admits that some might call them a “sideshow.” The associate professor delivers lectures on evolution decked out as Charles Darwin and asks his students to write poetry about biology. “I honestly believe that this is the coolest stuff you can learn about,” he says. “How can you not have fun in a course about sex, drugs and violence? That’s biology.”
After graduating from Stanford, Waldvogel turned down offers to play professional football and instead went to Cornell University for a PhD in behavioral biology. After several postdoctoral positions, he landed at Clemson, where, in addition to teaching biology, he researches ornithology and helps develop curriculum. “Along the way, I’ve discovered that teaching is something I really love to do,” he says. “To me, it’s not just a job or ancillary to my research.”
A serendipitous encounter at the March award ceremony brought back memories of his own student days. Waldvogel received the award during the National Science Teachers’ Association convention in San Diego, where Stanford president emeritus Donald Kennedy—his undergraduate thesis adviser—was among the speakers. The pair shared a celebratory drink after the ceremony. “Jerry was a rewarding student, and seeing him a quarter of a century later reminded me of why I liked him,” Kennedy says. “He has a remarkable enthusiasm for new problems. He talked about how he teaches now with that same enthusiasm, and it was obvious why his students appreciate him so much.”
Appreciation from students is Waldvogel’s ultimate reward. One once told him, “Yours is the hardest class I’ve ever enjoyed,” he recalls. “It means a lot,” Waldvogel says. “Those are the folks you’re making sweat and squirm in the classroom every day.” But as much as they respect the gray-haired professor, there’s one thing they won’t take his word for: “they never believe I could really have been a college football player.”
—Emily E. Williams, ’02
