By Brittany Rogers
Above image courtesy BYU–Idaho
A new convert finds unlimited offerings in Rexburg, Idaho.
Chester Chan is not afraid to stand out.
That’s how the missionaries in Singapore found him, after all: Chan, at 6'1", was towering over everyone on the train, sporting his signature aesthetic. “To this day he likes to wear a lot of bling,” says Matthew Sorensen, the elder who baptized him. An extrovert and freethinker, Chan “was open to hearing us out day one,” says Sorensen.
On day 25, Chan got baptized.
“I’ve always seen it as a leap of faith,” Chan says. “It was the perfect time for God to come into my life.”
At the time he met the missionaries, he felt adrift. Now at BYU–Idaho, he’s charging forward, thriving on a campus that fosters his faith, embraces his individualism, and—incredibly—keeps up with his drive.
Chan is editor-in-chief at BYU–Idaho Scroll, the school’s student news organization. He studies finance, marketing, and strategic organization communication. He runs a photography business and a clothing company. And he regularly throws himself into side quests, such as creating a documentary on recidivism or working to become a certified suicide-prevention trainer after a professor offered to sponsor him.
He can’t imagine being able to take on so many endeavors anywhere else. “BYU–Idaho spares no effort in helping us grow into the best version of ourselves,” says Chan. “Going to BYU–Idaho is one of the best decisions I’ve made in my life.”
BIG TESTIMONY ON CAMPUS
Chan, a thrift-shop enthusiast, had heard about BYU from the missionaries. So it was a thrill—perhaps even a sign—when he happened upon some swag in a Singapore thrift store. The find: a vintage BYU–Idaho sweatshirt. It became a wardrobe staple.
Little did Chan know he would soon trade his near-equator latitude for sweatshirt weather.
When Chan met the missionaries, he already had an associate’s degree in user experience design, which he completed during his secondary education—the equivalent of high school in the United States. He planned to continue his studies after fulfilling his mandatory years in Singapore’s military service.
“I didn’t know how I would afford it,” says Chan. “Singapore is a really expensive city.”
To his surprise, BYU–Idaho, half a world away, was a far more affordable option. “I did my research,” says Chan. “It’s a really phenomenal education at a really good price—and on top of that, a really good community for me to be a part of.”
So Chan set his sights on BYU–Idaho, arriving in Rexburg, Idaho, in January 2022.
Sorensen dropped him off, awed at his friend’s commitment. “There are people who are willing to completely change their lives because of the gospel,” he says.
Combine that kind of gospel dedication with a larger-than-life presence—that’s Chan.
“Chester is a disciple in a big, open way,” says communications professor Joel Judkins, and in his opinion, it’s contagious. “There’s a little bit of a revival going on right now at BYU–Idaho,” Judkins observes. He cites packed weekly devotionals and Rexburg becoming a two-temple town, with the Teton River Idaho Temple going up just 3.5 miles down the same street as the Rexburg Idaho Temple. “Students are more out about their discipleship. And I think maybe Chester was the crest of the wave.”
Chan is grateful for a campus full of friends who share his beliefs: “I feel less of a foreigner here,” he says. “It’s more of a home away from home.”
CHANGING REXBURG’S REP
While Rexburg could be a culture shock for a transplant from Singapore, Chan says, “I’m actually falling in love with this place.”
For one thing, he says, “BYU–Idaho is a lot more diverse than you think.” Twenty percent of the student body is nonwhite. And Chan raves about the cultures he has encountered in Rexburg; his roommate hails from Germany, a former Scroll editor from Italy, and friends from Africa and Polynesia.
The former big-city dweller also touts the wonders within a short drive of campus—from Yellowstone to the Tetons. For a senior project, he’s creating a photo book that pushes back at those who scoff at Rexburg as flyover country. In Chan fashion, the book is outlandish. He’s photographing someone scrolling on a device while sitting (fully dressed) atop a toilet against the jaw-dropping backdrop of national parks. He’s making a point: “We’re all . . . spending too much time in the loo just scrolling, just kind of brain rotting ourselves,” he says. “We’re not exploring how beautiful things are.”
More than anything, though, Chan loves the community on campus and off.
“Chester knows everybody, and everybody knows Chester,” says Deborah Owen, student media manager at BYU–Idaho. That includes the town mayor; that includes university president Alvin F. Meredith III. “[Chan] just loves people,” says Owen.
Even though he’s not a journalism major, Chan has worked in journalism for eight semesters. In one of his first undertakings as Scroll editor-in-chief, Chan produced an adventure guide for incoming BYU–Idaho students. “Never say there’s nothing to do in Rexburg,” his letter from the editor reads.
“College is whatever you want it to be,” Chan says. You can be bored, he says, or you can cook up a kimchi-and-dumpling fusion for a dozen friends. As a practice, he focuses on similarities, not differences. For instance, he looks for people striving to be better everywhere he goes. With that in mind, he says, “when I squint my eyes, I don’t see too much of a difference between Rexburg and Singapore.”
AS FAR AS YOU WANT TO GO
It’s Date Night with the Merediths—a mega-event BYU–Idaho throws every semester—and Chan is in full force, filming attendees for social-media feeds. But first, they have to don his Viking hat.
Scroll’s content is entirely student driven, and Chan has a knack for finding a way to make it funny, à la the hat, or take it deep. An example of the latter: he orchestrated the creation of a multiarticle package on supporting those with behavioral health challenges, from mental health to substance abuse, coordinating poignant interviews at the Center for Hope in Idaho Falls, Idaho.
Chan appreciates the freedom BYU–Idaho gives students by putting them in the driver’s seat, be it in the newsroom or at the front of the classroom. Last year he started teaching the practicum for beginning journalism students. It’s part of the learning model at BYU–Idaho: give students opportunities to teach one another.
The faculty-member focus on students, though, is the secret sauce at BYU–Idaho, says Chan. “They know you personally, the kind of person you are, your career aspirations. You go to any other university and most of your interactions are with the teaching assistant. At BYU–Idaho, the professors are often reaching out to you.”
That’s by design. BYU–Idaho is—and has been since its inception—a four-year institution focused on students, not on faculty research, though research does have its place. “We don’t get bogged down in ‘publish or perish,’” says Judkins. “That has really helped make the classroom a sacred space.” The faculty are directed to be teaching-centered, focused on helping students succeed as disciples and leaders.
At one point Chan mentioned an interest in speech pathology, in which Judkins has a background. Judkins made time to talk through the field with him. “Professor Judkins is like a grandpa I never had,” says Chan.
And when Chan wanted to try his hand at a documentary, his media-law professor connected him to the relevant nonprofits and the correctional center.
Chan says this has been consistent in his BYU–Idaho experience: professors seeing a student’s passion and digging in alongside them. “What you want to learn is completely up to you and how much time you want to give,” he says.
Chan, it seems, is always willing to give more—following another thread, contemplating another side hustle. He’s already had job offers in sales and marketing from two Fortune 500 companies but has extended his studies to complete a second minor and figure out visa requirements. He can still be spotted on campus, “pretty hard to miss, actually,” says Owen. “He just emanates energy and light.”
