A Shock of Recognition...

and not entirely pleasant.
My sophomore year at Wellesley a huge hurricane blew up the east coast towards Boston. We taped the windows of our glorious old, gothic dorm and hunkered down to wait out the storm. We walked by underground tunnel to the dining hall (so we wouldn't be blown away?) and basically hung out in our dorm rooms experimenting with interesting new kinds of alcohol. (kahlua! midori!) There was a group of five of us, tight as only new college students can be, who decided to play a game to pass the time. We would make predictions about our own futures--and where we would all be in 20 years.
This was the game. Each person got a prediction. While the group was coming up with the prediction the person had to wait in the hall--no campaigning or complaining. It was what your dearest friends imagined. We would throw out our ideas, settle on a narrative, then store it somewhere safe and check it in 20 years when of course we would still be best friends.
We have lost the predictions, and we have lost touch with at least one of the people there completely. Last I heard she was divorced, had a child, and was a lawyer for the EU in the Hague.
It was not entirely comfortable.
But we were eerily on the mark for some things. We predicted one friend would marry a doctor from Harvard medical school. She did. We predicted another would marry a doctor and stay in New England. She did. We predicted a third would never get married, but would be best friends with her boyfriend for years and years and live in a super cool loft in Boston. Well, mostly true. They did eventually get married, and they do now have a child--but she did live with him and remain best friends with him for about 15 years before that, and he did have some kind of super cool architectural pad in Boston, though I have never laid eyes on it.
As for me: they predicted I would marry my boyfriend at the time (a world class sailor and mechanical engineer from MIT) and that I would have kids and run the PTA.
I was soooo repulsed.
The rules said we couldn't argue the decision, but I did. I swore I would NEVER run a PTA, and that I would never marry Dave Lyons (who was a really nice guy, but marriage was the farthest thing from my mind at that point).
I said I probably would not have children and I planned to travel the world and make a difference. I was huffy and sullen, but they wouldn't budge.
Well, I did not marry Dave Lyons. And I waited about as long as one could to have children. And I did travel the world and I think I have made a little tiny bit of a difference. But, this morning I received news that I will be the parent representative for the Board of Directors for Larchmont Charter West Hollywood. Were my friends right?
I remember how their prediction filled me with feminist rage. It was so fucking traditional! It turned my stomach!
And yet, I am thrilled that I will be on the Board of this school. I am humbled, and in awe, and excited. I can't believe I will get a front-row seat to watching and building this school, which we hope will be a model for educating children of every socio-economic class sucessfully. I still plan to travel more, and I plan to write lots and lots. And I do not see this as my main thing. But it is funny to note: what they predicted came true. And it doesn't seem so bad any more. Life is so strange. And unnerving.