I WAS BORN and brought up in Bray, Co Wicklow, in the Forties and Fifties. Both my parents were working chemists with a shop in the main street. My mother always worked, as did her mother - a national school teacher - before her.

There were four of us - I had two older brothers and a sister. The boys were sent to Loughlinstown National School, but my sister and I attended Miss Brayden's private kindergarten in the middle of the town.

I dreaded my first day at school because, thanks to my brothers, I associated it with corporal punishment. However, I found Miss Brayden's School to be a lovely place which was full of light and kindness. When I was eight I was sent to the Loreto Convent in Bray, a short cycle ride away from home.

At school I wasn't considered the most conformist of students. I was always in trouble and resorted to mislaying my reports. They always said "must" or "could work harder". I was bad at Irish and maths but I remember enjoying French.

My mother, who worked very hard in the business, decided I wasn't achieving much by being a day pupil in Bray and, at the age of 14, I was sent off the Sacred Heart Convent, Mount Anville. It was all of eight miles away but it seemed like a million.

I was very homesick and cried every lunchtime for three months. After that, the next time I cried was when I was leaving.

Nowadays, it's not fashionable to admit it, but I enjoyed school. The nuns were interested in opening up our minds and we had some wonderful teachers, including Miss Moriarty, who taught us French, and Sister Joan Stevenson who taught Latin and Greek. Sister Joan had a great love of the classical languages and it's thanks to her that I have a facility for modern European languages. I did honours Latin in the Leaving Cert and enjoyed reading and reciting Horace and Virgil.

I admired the nuns, but during my time at Mount Anville, the mistress of discipline banned all male visitors over tha age of 10 - even brothers. She decided that the girls got too excited when boys appeared.

I went to UCD to study French and Spanish. Coming from an enclosed convent to college was a wonderful experience. I didn't discover the whereabouts of the library until my third term. But, after two years of having a wonderful time, I switched to economics and politics.

I was terrified of getting the results of my finals. In the event, I couldn't believe I had done so well (a 2:1) - neither could my mother. She insisted I go back to the office to check there had been no mistake - but I'd already done so.

At that time, 1960, girls weren't encouraged to see themselves as serious achieving academic students. The late John Kelly lectured me and when I got 95 per cent in Roman law, he suggested that I do a MA. It was something that had never occurred to me and I rejected the idea - although I later regreted it. I came second in my class, but I was embarrassed because all the boys I knew hadn't done as well and they teased me.

It took me a long time to understand my own strengths and weaknesses. In a sense I'm part of a lost generation of women who weren't really encouraged at school or at university. I didn't get involved in serious political thinking until I was well into my thirties and the mother of three children.

Gemma Hussey is a former Minister for Education and director of the European Women's Foundation. She was in conversation with Yvonne Healy.