By Louise R. Shaw

First, I attended my granddaughter’s pre-school graduation. It was all about balloons and hot dogs.

Two weeks later, I attended my 50-year high school reunion. It was all flowers and a buffet.

The juxtaposition was curious.

More than the difference in décor and food, was the difference in perspective.

First, looking at the future before even starting school.

Then, looking at it not only after school but after careers and even after retirement.

As each five-year-old stepped up to receive a rolled up scroll from the pre-school teacher, the emcee announced what career he or she was interested in.

Astronaut was one. Ballerina, demolition expert, car mechanic, singer (by four kids), construction worker (twice), baseball player (twice), artist and dentist (both by the same student), rock star, art teacher, engineer and race car driver were others.

The future is bright.

At the reunion, as the evening progressed and there was time to learn more about my classmates and their last 50 years, I’m quite sure there were no ballerinas. Or astronauts. And I’m pretty sure I’d have heard if any of them were rock stars or race car drivers.

There were, on the other hand, attorneys, a judge, social workers, homemakers, musicians, teachers, a principal, businesspeople, doctors, nurses, professors, salespeople, bankers. And yes – at least one with a career in construction.

The past was bright.

And even though the future those pre-schoolers are expecting is very different from the past us past-schoolers lived, it’s all good.

Because it’s OK to have a different idea of your future when you start along the path, than the path you eventually, actually, end up living.

Because there are surprises along the way.

You learn how hard it is to be a ballerina. Or how petite you have to be.

You learn how few people get a chance to be astronauts. Or how dangerous it is.

You develop another interest. Another opportunity arises. A mentor shows you a new path.

And life unfolds.

It’s OK to dream. And it’s OK to adapt your dreams to your realities.

I don’t remember what I wanted to be pre-kindergarten.

I am very, very sure I didn’t even know what I wanted to be when I graduated from high school. It took me two years of college to discover my career interest and start on the path for it.

For that matter, I didn’t have any idea at my high school graduation about how many kids I’d have or who they would be or where I’d live or the places I’d travel or the people I’d meet.

That’s what makes life such an adventure.

Its twists and turns. Its surprises.

Where we start out going isn’t always where we end up.

And that’s OK.

Because we’ve grown.

This column was originally written for the Davis Journal, in July 2025.