Close to Home: When talking to graduates, leave that refrigerator open

Whether you're attending your grandson's graduation from high school or your niece's grad school celebration, there are a few things that should never be uttered to graduates, unless you're hoping to send their tasseled hat spinning.

Well-intended graduation party guests often pose questions like, 'So, what's next?' or 'Have you declared a major?' or 'Do you have a job lined up?' Odds are, however, that the recent grad will give a tortured vague answer and then start checking the weather on his new Apple Watch.

It's time we pull up a chaise lounge and bask in the warmth of their accomplishments with them. There will be time enough to plan and commit to future obligations. But the purpose of the graduation celebration is to pause to appreciate recent achievements, the satisfaction of a job well-done — or barely finished.

When my son Eric was 2 years old, I couldn't help but notice several parallels in behavior between him and the graduating high school seniors in my classes. There was the struggle for independence, the frustration of not being taken seriously and the conflicting desire and fear of separating from parents.

There was another fear, however, that I hadn't considered until one afternoon when Eric asked for a snack.

I opened the refrigerator door, exposing fully stocked shelves — rows of different flavored yogurt, packages of string cheese, apples, grapes, juice boxes and, of course, the collection of half-consumed condiments. Eric stared at the colorful array then crumpled to the floor in what can only be described as a catatonic temper tantrum — no screaming, no words, just perplexing silence. I shut the refrigerator door and asked, 'Would you like a strawberry yogurt or some grapes?' His expression brightened, and he replied, 'yogurt.'

As Eric sat on his booster seat slurping yogurt, I thought of my seniors — old enough to strike out on their own, expected to decide from an array of colleges and careers and paralyzed by the fear of making the wrong choice. Daunted by the choices before them, some defaulted to their parents' wishes and applied to schools where they would eventually find themselves miserable; others — although, fully qualified for a four-year university — bought more time by declaring: 'I'll just go to the JC for a while,' and others chose not to choose, remaining frozen on the floor in a fit of confusion and sensory overload.

What could I, their teacher, or we, their parents, offer them? Acknowledgement. Acknowledge that they're being faced with daunting decisions; acknowledge that we too were faced with similar moments of indecision; and acknowledge that they may discover later a different and better choice; they can always forfeit the yogurt for the grapes.

Personally, I liked to share with my students my own journey of graduating from high school dead-set on being a physical therapist; then deciding that I wanted to teach; and finally — my junior year in college — declaring English as my major.

My students were always surprised to hear that I was much better in math and science in high school than English, and my Advanced Placement students would laugh when I explained that the only reason I took AP English in high school was so I could pass the test, receive college credit and never have to sit through another English class.

As graduation announcements hit the mailboxes this month, many seniors will find their refrigerators full — so many choices.

However, rather than simplify their choices for them as we may have done when they were 2 years old, we need to leave that refrigerator open. We need to encourage them to sample what the colleges have to offer, to consider taking a class that's not required for graduation, to work an on-campus job outside their field, or perhaps to apply for a semester abroad. And, if we're really brave, we'll share our own circuitous route of finding our focus and eventually our life's work.

Perhaps one of the hardest questions to answer for a graduate is: 'What are your plans for the future?' My suggestion is that we refrain from asking.

Let's save our questions about their future and instead let them choose the topics of conversation as they cut their 'Congratulations!' cake.

Like the 2-year-olds they once were, graduates need and crave our support. Let's be sure they have it.

Lynette Williamson retired from Analy High School this year after teaching English and debate in Sonoma County since 1984. She lives in Monte Rio.