Fifth grade was one of my worst years in school. I moved to a new city and had a hard time making friends. Most of the class was more Yeshivish than me and didn’t understand my pop-culture references (not such a bad thing, in hindsight, but it did make me feel alienated). I hated my English teacher with a passion and the feeling was mutual. It was the first year I realized that I struggled academically and that contributed to everything. There were weeks where I would spend the entire Limudei Chol in the office doing nothing though I was supposed to catch up on homework I missed. After a while, I stopped bothering to tell my parents, though they found out about some of it due to having to regularly pick me up from school when I stayed late to finish class or home work. I loved my Rebbi and learned a lot that year, but he had to leave to his second job in pre-school for the last hour of the day. For that hour, we were graced with a Rebbi who was in the process of quitting smoking and was absolutely miserable. He clearly had no desire other than money to teach the class. Punishment assignments were given out multiple times a day and after a while, so were slaps. In the first day, he assigned a student to take inventory of who had extra homework the day before and when it was due. What that meant was that the first 15 minutes of the hour we had with him were taken up by little Nechemia reading “Yaakov Schwartz, write ‘I will not talk in class’ 25 times. Shmuel Berger, write the first mishna…”, assignments being collected, excuses being given, potches handed out, etc.
It wasn’t all bad. I made some really close friends that year. Like I said, my Rebbi was amazing. Our new house was bigger and more fun to play in. But all in all it wasn’t a fun year.
So no. Fifth grade was not simple. I do not wish to live that part of my life over again.