It's Never Too Late to Learn!

Last week, I traveled north to the campus of Plymouth State University to speak to a group of students. It was an eye-opening experience for me and I don't mind confessing that it got me to thinking about education.

When I was attending Concord schools back in the 1960s, there was an emphasis on making a decision on what you wanted to do with your life and sticking with it.

You usually chose your college before the end of your Junior year which meant that at 16 or 17, you needed to have a pretty good idea as to what career path you were going to take. Sister Mary Leonard, the guidance counselor at , told me that I either needed to follow a vocation and enter the priesthood or become a teacher. She left no wiggle room for anything else.

Whenever I talked about my personal desire to become a writer and pursue a career in Hollywood, my talk was pooh-poohed as unrealistic.

"You're not good looking enough to be in California," announced Sister Leonard, possibly in an attempt to keep any vanity at bay.

I was 16 when I started my senior year in high school and 17 when I began attending college. Because I was doing what everyone else wanted me to do, I felt as though I were sleepwalking.

Plymouth State was then known as a College. Because of my own personal goals, I didn't particularly like my brief time there. That time was further marred by the horrific events involving my roommate. Each week I hopped on the bus to Concord as soon as I could in order to escape what had become an untenable situation.

For more than 40 years, I avoided going near Plymouth although I briefly returned to school in the 1980s to take some courses in paralegal. I was motivated both by my job working at N.H. Legal Assistance and watching "L.A. Law" on television.

Driving up I-93 on my way to Plymouth last week found me filled with a variety of emotions. I had promised, however, that I would speak and so I was determined to not turn around and return to the relative safety and security of Concord.

As though on cue, the sun came out from behind some clouds as I neared Exit 25, casting its light on Plymouth and making it suddenly seem like a place I had never been before. Suddenly I was actually excited about returning and as I drove into Town and by my old dorm, Grafton Hall, the events of 40 some odd years ago seemed to wash away.

I was given a tour of part of the campus and finally found the enthusiasm I lacked when I first visited the school lo those many years ago. There was an energy about the campus and the students and I easily got caught up in it.

After I spoke and answered questions from the group assembled, I found myself not wanting to leave.

Whether just from the maturity gleamed from years of living or perhaps simply looking for a new challenge, on the drive back to Concord I began to give serious consideration to returning to school. Perhaps the time is finally ripe to finish that secondary education that got put on the back burner.

Better late than never!