The first year, my wife went. The second year, I went — her schedule didn't work out. I figured, how different could it really be, and headed in.
But once I actually stepped into the classroom, the vibe was a little odd. The teacher's desk and my seat were a good two meters apart. It felt like sitting alone at one end of some huge mansion's dining table.
The teacher started telling me about my kid. She said with other kids she plays, but with mine, she has conversations. Honestly, that made total sense right away. My kid talks with me a lot too, genuinely a lot.
Then the teacher asked: "Is there anything you're curious about with the daycare, or anything you'd like to see changed or improved about your child?" I answered immediately. No, nothing.
My kid says they like going to daycare every morning. They come out smiling at pickup. Finishes every meal and snack, no leftovers. What else was there left for me to say?
The teacher looked genuinely surprised. So I explained why I had nothing to add, and told her honestly how grateful I was. Her expression looked a little flustered, almost — I don't think she'd heard that kind of thing very often.
In Korean society, these meetings almost always follow the exact same script: "Please let us know any time if something's bothering you." But why does nobody ever say the flip side — "please also let us know any time about something that went well, or something worth praising"?
Ever since that day, whenever I ask someone for feedback, I always ask both. What could be better, and what went well. Together, every time.