The treeline blurred past my driver-side window. A cool spring mist hid the sunrise and engulfed the one-lane road while a Sam Barber song played over the car speakers. I gazed at the road ahead, the trunk filled with all my personal belongings, accompanied only by my thoughts. My final year of junior hockey was officially over. The bitter taste of losing in the playoffs and being the third string at the season’s end still lingered in my mouth and infected my attitude, but while still up north, I needed to at least see a few colleges.
“I know I won’t like this campus. I don’t want to think about school,” I said to my steering wheel. “But I would go anywhere for this beautiful game,” I simultaneously thought. An hour later, with spirits somewhat raised by the drive through New Hampshire nature, I pulled into Keene, onto Main Street and drove past Appian Way. “Hmm, it’s better than I thought,” I mused, unable to fully acknowledge that I might enjoy being there. A college decision loomed, but home was calling, so I turned onto Route 9 towards 91 South and began my drive to Virginia.
My journey to Keene State, most influenced by my pursuit of college hockey and a love of learning, began long before I first saw the campus. Since I could walk, I possessed what my mom calls “a constantly whirring ball of energy.” I needed to move. As I grew older, this energy paired with extroverted tendencies for a dangerous combination. My parents quickly discovered that without a physical outlet (and sometimes even with one) this energy resulted in disruptive and destructive behavior, most noticeably in my classroom conduct. I was easily distracted,
routinely distracted others and acted impulsively. My parents’ primary solution was to offer me a variety of sports options to find healthy outlets.
I recall my mom tucking me into bed one night as a kindergartener, “There are a few different sports you can try: Baseball, basketball, soccer, ice hockey…” she said. The moment she suggested hockey, I shouted, “Ice hockey! Yes!” My mom figure skated competitively in her youth, so I already had an ice sports connection. Regardless, I struggled through my first ice skating experience, falling numerous times and smacking my head on the ice, but I got back up every time with a renewed desire to go faster.
In my hometown of Roanoke, Va., I began Learn to Play through the Valley Youth Hockey Association. The day I was fitted for hockey gear felt equivalent to waking up and seeing presents as a child on Christmas morning. It was pure, unbridled youthful exuberance. Little did I know, the all-involving hockey adventure I was embarking on would lead me to Keene.
Even with hockey functioning as an energy outlet back then, I continued to be rambunctious in class. I recognized that my kindergarten was not a good fit before my parents did. A school with traditional classrooms and teaching style provided little opportunity to be outside and move and had strict disciplinarian policies for any behavior infringement, a difficult combination for a young, energetic boy. One day, I said to my parents, “I need to find a new school.” They wanted to give it more of a chance until they attended a parent/teacher conference in which my teacher scolded them for bad parenting. Then, they were fully on board with my idea to find a new school.
After some searching my parents sent me to Community School. When I stepped onto the campus it felt like entering another world. A large outdoor play area dominated the entry to the
school, with an open field, playground equipment, trees, picnic tables and many students enjoying each other’s company. Community School nurtured my curiosity and the desire to learn by treating me like an adult and fostering a healthy environment for all students and teachers.
I was encouraged to address my teachers by their first names. We frequently held discussions about class topics, enabling me and my classmates to interact more with the material. The teachers were supportive and worked with all the students to create personal learning goals. Conferences included parents, teachers and students. Small class sizes enabled me to become close with my peers, and we often interacted with older students as buddies. Our lessons included regular hands-on learning opportunities. For example, while studying Booker T. Washington in a humanities class, we took a day trip to Booker T. Washington National Historic Site an hour away. Our immersion in compelling class topics made learning and attending school exciting.
Hockey and Community School complimented each other beautifully. I explored my newfound joy for learning during school hours and channeled my extra energy into practice in the evenings. I was a defenseman, but the goaltenders’ strange pads fascinated me. After begging my coach for a chance, I played goalie for a practice and loved it from the first moment I was hit by a puck. While in elementary school, I made the travel team consistently and split time as a player and a goalie until I turned twelve, when I fully transitioned to goaltending. This combination became an essential piece of my life and foreshadowed my current Keene routine.
As a high school student musing about college and athletics, I recognized a desire to play NCAA college hockey. My research revealed a pathway much less traditional than other sports. Hockey players normally take one to three gap years after high school to play in college-scouted leagues before being recruited. The typical college hockey freshman is twenty-one years old. I
knew this was still a few years away, so I began touring schools on my own and contemplating personal preferences for my college education.
While I did not have a major in mind, I wanted a college somewhere I would enjoy living and that inspired the same excitement about learning as Community School. Growing up in Roanoke, the Blue Ridge mountains were in my backyard, offering bountiful opportunities to build a relationship with nature. I hiked, biked, fished, swam and camped my way into a deep love for the outdoors. I needed my college to have close natural areas.
My desire for an inspired education drew me to liberal arts institutions. I liked the prospect of taking classes from many disciplines with the intention of developing into a well-rounded person and finding an intriguing line of study. This combination of my love of nature, outdoor activities and colder climates focused my attention on northern schools, where I visited multiple colleges before moving to New England to pursue hockey.
One year after graduating high school, I moved to Exeter, New Hampshire, to play for the Seacoast Spartans of the Eastern Hockey League, a college-scouted league. During this season I learned that my childhood love for winter (specifically snow) had only grown stronger, and was overjoyed to see ponds freeze over. Skating on ponds, doing local hikes, and watching the sunset
over the marsh behind Hampton Beach sparked my love for the Live Free or Die state. When my final season of junior hockey ended I began reaching out to schools. Bobby Rodrigue, coach of the new varsity hockey program at Keene State College (KSC), was at the top of that list. Coach Rodrigue and I spoke multiple times about the school, his experience as an alumnus and how the 100% alumni coaching staff take extreme pride in representing KSC. Coach Rodrigue’s obvious passion for the school and hockey team was contagious and bolstered by the fact that KSC had a liberal arts program. After our later conversations I found myself with eyes
closed, envisioning the snapping sound of a puck hitting my glove pocket in front of a crowd at Keene Ice. Another college coach reached out and offered me a position, but when I ultimately received Coach Rodrigue’s offer I knew KSC was the future I wanted both athletically and academically.
Benjamin Skelton can be contacted at
