It
seems like lately I spend an unusual amount of time hearing about how the
SAT really isn't that important.1
Counselors,
teachers, friends, parents, grandparents, second cousins, great aunts, museum
tour guides, turban-sporting mystics, the Virgin Mary—everyone I ask—tells me
that I "shouldn't stress," that it's "not a big deal," that
"colleges don't really put much stock in those scores anyway," that
"it's not like the SAT can tell what kind of person you are or anything
about your true intellectual capabilities," and that I "shouldn't
worry about a stupid number generated by a bunch of stupid bubbles that aren’t
even filled in with ink."2
They
must think I just lap up all that nonsense like it's the milk in the bottom of
my Wheat Chex. They must see me as some
sort of blueberry of gullibility, gushing the juices of my naivety all over the
sweaty fingers of the SAT-taking proletariat as I am rudely plucked from the
bush of my existence and thrown into the great pie of anonymity, uniformity,
and standard deviations.3
Au
contraire, dear berry-picking maiden, I refuse to be eliminated so easily. I won't bow to your "look at all of
your other talents," your "colleges know that a number from a bubble
test doesn't depict you as a person," or any other weighted scales of
counterfeit self-worth you may wish to attempt to measure me by. 4
Oh
no, I see what you are trying to do. It
won't work on me.5
I,
for one, refuse to be blinded by the idea that the SAT is anything less than
the most accurate and thorough measurement of a person's intelligence,
creativity, ambition, leadership skills, honesty, integrity, and courage, as
well as their depth of character, sense of humor, individual talents, artistic
abilities, and divine potential that there is or ever will be.6
I,
unlike so many who consider the SAT a waste of time, an unnecessary bother, an
extremely poor measure of a person, another systematic method of chipping away
any lingering shards of individuality left in the mind of an American 18-year-old,
or anything short of imperative in understanding the relative strengths and
weaknesses, academic and otherwise, of students everywhere, avidly await the
day that will determine my destiny.7
This
fateful day, approximately four to six weeks after the four-hour cash-in on the
best $28.50 I've ever spent, will be the end of any worries I've ever had about
where I fit in amongst my peers, what I'm worth as a human being, and how much
potential I have to succeed in this modern and highly complex world.8
The
day I receive my composite SAT score, compliments of the boundless sagacity of
the College Board, will be the culmination of and the measure of success of the
first eighteen years of my insignificant existence.9
So,
in conclusion, I restate with adamancy my firm belief that the SAT is the
determining, if not sole, factor in evaluating the personal, social, spiritual,
altruistic, intellectual, moral, artistic, culinary, psychological, and
academic formation of any young mind lucky enough to venture, number two pencil
in hand, into its awe-inspiring realm of objective questions, dry passages, and
perfectly filled-in Scantron bubbles. 10
1. The SAT really isn't that important
2. They are unquestionably correct.
3. I offer you my most sincere apologies for
forcing you, valued reader, to trudge through the last 71 words of your
literary life.
4. Turns out the reason I won't have to be
eliminated is because not only will I voluntarily accept the knowledge that the
SAT is not all-important, I will go out of my way to confirm it. However, I wiggle too much to be easily
measured by any scale, standardized or otherwise.
5. It will work on me.
6. I disagree with this paragraph with my every
shred of conscious existence.
7. I consider the SAT a waste of time, etc.
8. Tootsie Rolls cost a penny at the gas
station. 2,850 Tootsie Rolls costs
$28.50 at the gas station. If it
weren't for the SAT, I'd be eating 2,850 Tootsie Rolls right now. This alone is enough to make me hate the
SAT.
9. No, it won't.
10. This paragraph is what it looks like when I
lie in print. The word for lying in
print is libel. Libel may be an important
word for any SAT taker to know, seeing as how it's appearance in the verbal
section would not be entirely surprising. A couple of other words that may be of note for those of you looking
to take the SAT in the future are sarcasm (a mode of satirical wit depending for its effect on bitter,
caustic, and often ironic language that is usually directed against an individual)
and quondam.