I had recently entered the double-digits when I was lucky enough to first experience 'college learning.' It was spring, and I was a fifth grader. Having spent the after-school hours making up a dance to the Spice Girls and tormenting the younger brother of my friend, I made my way home from their house at 6:00 pm, just in time for family dinner. But dinner was not the only thing waiting for me on the counter that evening. Next to the dishes of pasta, sauce, and broccoli was a plane ticket to Greece. It had my name on it. Right there. Passenger: Margaret Owens. My parents, always the enablers of my educational experiences, had decided I should experience the world outside of our small, college town. I would be accompanying my dad, the Professor, and his Classics class on their semester abroad to Greece. The baby of my family, I was thrilled to be swept into the sophisticated world of college. I watched awe-struck as twenty-year-olds interacted on personal and intellectual levels with their teacher; I listened intently to discussions ranging from Aristotle and Phidias to how drunk everyone was the night before; I even talked passionately to my dad's students about