AT St Joseph's Convent, Summerhill, Athlone, a standard girls' convent school, a particular emphasis was placed on the academic. We were divided into Latin and commerce streams, so in first year, for example, I was in Latin one.
It suited me well. I was one of the well-behaved students, who worked hard and pleased the adults. That, at any rate, is the stereotypical picture I have of myself at that time.
I got a lot out of school but, if I had my time over again, it would be nice to develop interests in music and art. The school was three miles outside the town and to do these subjects you had to make special arrangements and stay behind after school.
I was townie. At Summerhill, we met boarders from all over Ireland and girls from the surrounding countryside. In senior classes, the girls from the country all got to go to the marquee dances because they had brothers with cars who could drive them about. It sounded very glamorous - they played country and western and got to jive. We townies had to make do with school hops with boys from the Marist school in Athlone.
One of my regrets is that I avoided games at school - partly because I had put on weight and was reluctant to exercise, partly because it meant staying behind after school and having to organise transport. Looking back, I wish I had had a more balanced education and been less of a bookworm. My memory of evenings at home are of my sister and me sitting around the table surrounded by books.
At school, Mary O'Rourke, now Minister for Public Enterprise, was an extremely dedicated history teacher. She encouraged us to debate what we were learning. She encouraged us, too, to put things into our own words rather than simply regurgitate the text books. For many of us she has remained a figurehead.
On Saturday mornings before the Leaving Cert, I used to go to Mrs Murray in the town, who gave us English lessons. It's thanks to her that I'm able to appreciate Shakespeare: the advice which Polonius gave to his son - "to thine own self be true" - has remained with me throughout my life.
I was ambitious in a vague way. I always wanted to get to grips with a subject. This, however, did not translate into maths, in which I did the absolute minimum, despite Sister Olive's best efforts.
The nuns were dedicated teachers and they made great efforts on our behalf. I can remember Sister Mercy, our science teacher, pursuing me after Inter Cert. "You got an A in science - why are you giving it up?" she demanded. "Why are you taking home economics?"
But not all our teachers were nuns. Sean O Leochain was an excellent Irish teacher, who drew great ideas out of us for our Irish essays. Today, he's vice-principal at the school. Mrs Egan was a great Latin teacher - Latin is a good basis for languages and, as a result, I developed a love of languages which stood me in good stead when I joined the Department of Foreign Affairs.
After school, I went to UCG to do English and psychology, but I left after a year to take up a job in the civil service. My father had been in the Garda and, growing up, I always had a sense that I would work in the public service. I started in the Department of Education, before moving to Foreign Affairs.
Carmel Foley is director of the Office of Consumer Affairs. She was in conversation with Yvonne Healy
