I was standing in line for what seemed hours, and yet I dreaded my turn. I was about to take my second SAT test. Around me, other students, subject to the same fate as I, nervously shifted from one foot to the other, looking anywhere but up ahead, relishing their last precious moments before the test. Everyone was perfectly miserable—everyone, that is, except the guy directly in front of me.
“You know, I'm not nervous about this test at all,” he boasted, grinning foolishly. “When I took the ACT, I was in the...” he pauses for effect, “...55th percentile.” He then flashed some dorky moves to finish off his speech. Behind him, I smirked bemusedly. He was bragging about being in the 55th percentile, as if it were something to boast about; and yet, just behind him stood someone, me, who had scored in the 95th percentile on the SAT. I gloated in my supposed superiority.
In reality, being in the 55th percentile isn't bad. In fact, it's pretty good. He was of average or even above-average intelligence, so he faced no disadvantages when trying to apply for college. Unlike many people, he was well rounded, being equally good at both math and English. My mother, for example, was in the 93rd percentile in English but was in the lower third in math. My father was just as uneven the other way. The 55th percentile is excellent; however, the 95th percentile is a lot better, a whole lot better.
And yet, what was I doing, thinking this about him? I laughed at him for boasting about his scores when I had scored much higher than he. But by laughing at him, I was doing the very thing I had mocked him for. What if there were someone standing there who was in the 96th percentile, or the 97th, or the 99th? Would they not think I was as foolish as I thought he was? Am I not, in my pride, committing the very sin I mocked the guy in front of me for?
When I was thinking about these things, I obviously placed great worth on the SAT; I judged someone I had never met based solely on his SAT score. Since that time, however, I have drastically changed my opinion. Up to that day, I had expended all my energy in studying for the test. I reviewed online hints and suggestions. I read and re-read the College Board's official SAT study guide. I lived and breathed SAT questions (ok, I actually didn't do that much). And yet, what is the return for my efforts? A 2180 SAT score, obviously. But what have I gained in the long term?
The SAT is practically worthless; the entire purpose of taking the test (at least, from my perspective) is to give students a chance to enter college. However, getting a super-high score didn't open any doors for me. Even though I am in the highest financial-aid brackets at most colleges—some paying $14,000 or more—the original tuition price is so high that the scholarships don't even come close to lowering it enough. When you have to pay $160,000, what difference does a $10,000 discount make? The SAT didn't even give me high priority at the community and state colleges I applied at—at one I was placed at the lowest priority and unable to take the classes I needed, and at the other I could not even enroll because they placed high priority on other students. To compound the irony, I am planning on transferring to Thomas Edison State College, which doesn't even require its students to take the SAT!
Not only did the SAT not help me enter college, but after college, the SAT will have no value whatsoever. The SAT is useless when applying for a job. Companies don't care if their employees did well on the SAT. Potential employers don't examine applicants' SAT scores. Employees aren't given instant raises or important management positions for their scholastic aptitude. Employers only care about their employees' ability to perform their jobs, not how well they can do at college. The SAT has virtually no worth outside the college scene.
Worthless at getting in colleges, worthless at getting classes, worthless at getting a job—the SAT was the greatest waste of time and anxiety I have ever done. What folly, what stupidity, what absurdity! That I had never bothered take the test! I may have scored higher than the guy standing in front of me that day, but in reality, we were both in the same position. We both had the same advantages in the workplace; neither of us really had an edge over the other. We both faced a similar problem of funding our college educations. In a sense, there is no real difference between scoring in the 95th percentile and scoring 40 percentages lower. Both scores are completely meaningless.
