In school, when someone goes up a grade, say from third to fourth, the new grade isn’t fun. There isn’t as much art or painting. The old teacher is gone, as is our rapport with her. To make it worse, we see her at recess surrounded by children who aren’t us, and it just feels unfair. A few months later, going back to the old grade seems unimaginably simple. We can barely believe we were challenged by the topics of third grade, now that we’re on to tougher math and harder reading. The games seem juvenile and silly. When we’re ready to leave the fourth grade, we have the same feelings as we did
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