This is what we see: children riding yellow buses to new classrooms, teachers greeting their new pupils with a mixture of eager anticipation and anxiety, administrators trying to effectively balance facilities, finances and people, and parents alternately praising the return to a regular schedule of activities outside the home and mourning the end of another summer with their children. The school year has officially begun.

It takes a great leap of faith and trust for any parent to commit their children to a school’s care each day. Parenthood, when taken seriously, is a full-time job when children are young. By the time our kids entered the door to kindergarten, we had already invested five years of our lives in teaching and learning. As each one walked through those school doors I found myself worrying about all sorts of things. What will happen to that beautiful, bright child in a classroom? How will they adjust from the rules that govern imagination and curiosity at home to the rules &045; both written and unwritten &045; at school?

Our family has found the experience of adjustment to school to be primarily positive. Rules in the different environments complemented or paralleled each other. Take turns. Pay attention when people are talking to you and remember to listen when others are talking. No budging in lines. No throwing sand. No calling people stupid … and the list could go on. Our kids found it easy to fit in at school, both with their teachers and their classmates.

As the oldest has gotten older, though, we find that more and more of the expectations found at school come into conflict with those at home. The differences between kids are becoming more pronounced, and the &uot;social&uot; aspect of school is a lot more stressful. Superficial acquaintanceships based on clothing, music or sports replace genuine friendships.

But many of the conflicts arise out of my own skepticism at the purpose of many of the rules that administrators create. I don’t understand, for example, why there are no signs telling people where things are at the middle school and the high school. I don’t understand how giving students only two minutes between classes at the middle school or not allowing them to use book bags is either fair or practical. I don’t see the point of mandatory study halls during the first or last period of the day. It often seems as though control is the primary goal of too many administrators.

Now I know I have a bias against administrators generated by my own experiences at school, so I generally force myself to give them the benefit of the doubt. I try to meet the principals at my children’s schools so that I can see them as human beings and not faceless bureaucrats. Largely this has worked; most of the administrators I know are not mindless automatons or control freaks. It helps that I have a clear picture of the pressures that mold or even break the spirit of a school administrator, the pressures society creates with our expectations of perfect schools, and the pressures created by politicians who are increasingly interested in micro-managing what happens in public school classrooms.

Lately, I have even found myself agreeing with some rules that I would have heaped scorn on in the past. Having entered classrooms as a substitute teacher, and with a teenage daughter in the household, I see the value of placing some boundaries on what students can wear to school. And I agree completely with the need to regulate cell phone access while at school. Good cell phone etiquette will become a habit much more easily with guidance from parents and schools. I think that strict rules that limit use during class are a good way to manage a technology that is out of control in our society.

As kids get off of their buses and head into those classrooms this school year, I hope that the experience will be positive and enriching for everybody involved, but I know that there will be times of stress and disagreement. I suspect if we take the time to see the situation from the others’ perspectives, like the mom and daughter in the movie &uot;Freaky Friday&uot; were forced to, it will be easier to sort out the things that bother us because they’re just plain wrong from those that are annoying but necessary.

(David Rask Behling is a rural Albert Lea resident. His column appears Tuesdays.)