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As an older student returning to further my education, I had quite a role model to follow. He was in his thirties when he finally felt ready for college. By that time, he'd been married for 13 years and had four children to feed.

Having barely finished high school, completed a stint in the navy, and worked a variety of decent but stagnant jobs, my father was ready to become an educated man. He wanted a college degree, of that he was certain.

I remember him as both excited and afraid during those early days. Confused by the registration process, he took my mother along to walk with him through the red tape. He was in awe of the bookstore, and took particular pleasure in selecting the required text books for his coursework.

He stocked up on pens and paper, and pulled the old manual typewriter out of the attic. It sat on a rickety old metal stand in the corner of the dining room, off limits to the children. He and my mother, neither of whom were accomplished typists, took turns pecking their way through his papers late into the night.

What impressed me most was my father's boundless enthusiasm for learning. He didn't see school as a chore, he saw it as a fascinating opportunity to learn about new theories and ideas. Dinner time was filled with discussions about philosophy, the structure of the molecule, or the history of World War II. Whatever he was studying, we also studied, his enthusiasm contagious.

That, perhaps, is an advantage and an unexpected benefit of being an adult university student. Having made the choice to sacrifice the time and expense to become a student, the experience is savored and appreciated in a way that younger students are not yet able to understand.

My father quickly discovered a group of older students who met before classes to share coffee in the student center. Rising earlier than was necessary, he made a habit of joining them for coffee and fellowship long before the more typical college students had sleepily rolled out of bed. It was a time to compare notes, to discuss work and children and life in general. Now, nearly thirty years later, that group of coffee drinkers still stays in touch.

My father finished that degree, working odd hours to put food on the table, and continued on for another one. Taking a page out of his book, I, too, have gone back to college at the age of 40, to complete a doctorate in education. And like him, I find myself enjoying the experience much more than I did as a younger student.

True, balancing work, family, and school can be challenging. But the perspective I have now allows me to take pleasure from the process of learning in a way I never did when I was younger. Instead of completing assignments simply because it's required, I complete assignments with the same excitement I saw my father exude all those years ago.

Learn more about this author, Melinda Clayton.
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