School as Mystery

Recently, I had a sort of funny, sort of horrible dream that I was a fly on the wall of my son's classroom.

I don't remember much about that dream, but the metaphor was apt.

See, what happens to my son at school on a day-to-day basis is pretty much a mystery to me. Even after three years.  

I can't figure out why entirely.  It probably has something to do with the fact that he can be a very private little fellow.  Being private myself in some corners of my life, I'm cool with that.  But I can't help but feel I should know more, if only about what projects they're working on, what they've done in art or gym, or, well, anything, really.

It's different with my daughter.  She attends a private pre-k right now, and every week we get at least one report of what they've done in class and in "related arts."   Teachers even have their own voice mailboxes! And email!  Yes, there's a security buzzer on the front door, but no matter the time of day, I'm always greeted by the receptionist with a smile and a kind word.   Sometimes, at my son's school, once I'm buzzed in, I feel the intense need to apologize for being there.  

I wish all schools could be like my girl's pre-k.  It seems to me that the more welcoming a school is, the happier parents are, and the happier parents are, the happier kids are, and the happier kids are, the happier teachers are, and the happier teachers are...Well, you get it.

What does your school do to make you feel welcome?  (Or not...)