“I hate school.”

It was a simple motto. I shared it with a few of my close friends, and we used it as often as we could manage. In eleventh grade English class, we had to write a collection of poems, each in a different form. In typical melodramatic fashion, I called mine Ode to Alcatraz;  each and every poem was about the mindless prison that I perceived school to be. I can hear Miss Davidson’s voice even now: “Tucker, you’re killin’ me.”

For years, both while I was breezing through high school and while I was dragging myself through college, my parents told me that I would miss education, and that I would want to pursue my education beyond my undergraduate studies, to the Masters and Ph.D levels. They thought I would be in school much of my life. I scoffed sardonically at this preposterous suggestion; as soon as I was done with school, I was done with school.

(Side note: I think it’s interesting that to me, as I’m sure it was to all my friends, a college degree was not optional. That was simply the extent of compulsory education. Kudos to my parents and teachers for valuing education to such a high degree that a college education was a foregone conclusion.)

A realization that has stuck with me recently is the reality that I did not get as much out of my education as I should have. I did not make the most of it. This was not my teachers’ fault; most would have been more than willing to challenge me, and many tried. Some, like Miss Urban and Miss Davidson, viewed me with something you might call amused frustration—excited by those rare moments of complete engagement, and yet also frustrated because they came so rarely. I think they liked me, but I also drove them crazy. Some, like Mr. Johnson, were driven to strongly disliking me, angered by my success in his class despite my apparent disdain for it. One managed to really get the most out of me, and consistently so—though I suspect that I could even have gotten more from Miss O’s classes than I did. I didn’t care. It wasn’t usually all that necessary to try all that hard.

My parents were right, of course. I’m now almost 29 years old; high school is long past, and I have completed my college degree. But now that I have finally put compulsory education behind me, I realize that there is just so much more that I want to learn. There is so much knowledge out there, and I want to know it all! I find myself soaking in every ounce of information, of every kind, that I can. I wish that I had a dozen lifetimes, because I’d like to go back to college at least that many times. There are at least a half dozen areas in which I’d like to pursue a Masters and a Ph.D. I want to read every book ever written—well, every good one, at least.

I find myself looking up auditing costs at local universities, to see if I can afford to take some college classes in some of those areas I’m dying to immerse myself in. I’ve got a list of links the length of my arm of online resources for free college classes. I create lists of books to read, writing my own curriculum for learning the subjects that interest me most—because hey,  I can get a great education for a dollar fifty in late charges at the public library.

I have no evidence to support this, no studies or statistics, but I suspect that if you surveyed adults who have been out of college for more than, shall we say, five years, you would find that an overwhelming majority of them, like me, would kill for the opportunity to go back to school. Most of them, I think, have discovered the same thirst for knowledge that I have—all too late. But it’s harder now than it was then. There is work, family, responsibilities—there is life, and it is so much busier than it used to be.

School is no longer my full time occupation; “student” is no longer my job description. That was a luxury I possessed for years, but I was too foolish to enjoy it. I squandered those years. Here’s to my wasted youth, and my scattered attempts to get it back. If there are any students reading this, I know that it’s hard to get past how much you hate school, but get past it anyway. This opportunity doensn’t last forever; take it as far as you can.

Here’s a new motto: “I miss school.”