On standardized testing.
It is very easy to hate a standardized test. I assume that’s where we all started–despising it with all of one’s heart, collecting an enormous amount of arguments as to why this is not the best way to evaluate a person’s current performance or even future potential. Nowadays, after having been through an intense month-long preparation process, I must admit that though I still agree with some of the criticism associated with standardized testing, mainly the big monetary investment it involves, there is still a tremendous amount of positive impact for both the student and institution that isn’t immediately apparent at the beginning of the journey.
Deciding to apply to a particular institution means one has to accept the rules of the game, how student supply and college demand merge together to arrive at equilibrium. On the applicant’s side, one has to be prepared to portray that you are what the institution would consider a good fit and on the institution’s side, one has to set-up the proper filters to make sure that is in fact the case. Otherwise, ends might not meet on either side of the relationship and we all now that is exactly how relationships end-up failing. If this is an idea that sounds absolutely preposterous for you as a test-taker, then maybe this isn’t the journey for you. This was my first learning: stop believing you are too special for a standardized, massive, horrible test. You’re not. And if you are, you’re going to have to prove it.
I think most of the issues associated with standardized testing come from looking at it from solely a test-taker’s point of view, assuming that these tests should be designed to help us portray the best versions of ourselves to colleges as opposed to recognizing their true purpose: to filter, classify and categorize test-takers with real data. In other words, to provide colleges with concrete answers. Most test-takers despise these because they think the test is for them when the test actually serves the institutions, in big volumes. Why does accepting this reality matter? Because once you are able to let go of the ego associated with these ideas, you can actually get to studying. And study hard.
In addition, if a standardized test score were to be the only input to evaluate a person’s potential then of course it would only be narrating a small portion of the story. However, if we are careful enough to consider how not only a test choice (GMAT vs. GRE, for example) but also the way this fits into the student’s overall narrative, it is easy to understand how the only thing an institution is asking from you is that you are coherent. I have a Bachelor of Arts in Literary Studies. Applying for Business School with a GMAT test choice immediately tells the examiner in charge that I haven’t evaluated my own skills very well. If Business is the art of playing to win, then why would I choose to take a test that is considerably harder in Quant as opposed to Verbal skills when we can all assume what my strengths are? Little decisions like these confirm to an institution, in a less predictable way, if you are the type of person that will succeed in the environment they are able to provide to their students. In other words, if you’re up for it.
Furthermore, perhaps the most impactful part of the GRE preparation in my specific case has been the intellectual challenge. And when I say intellectual I actually mean, non-emotional. After spending more than five years in the labour force, one is inclined to believe that our brains are challenged and used and fair enough, they probably are. However, it is important to highlight that, at least in my experience, working has had a lot more to do with executing soft skills than hard skills, especially in my discipline and professional context. I would say eighty percent of the job is understanding what is expected of you and your team and twenty percent is actual performance. A lot of us charismatic human beings can smile their way out of a deadline, provide valid points that do not require a number property in order to clarify an argument, and have infinite chances of making mistakes with little repercussions. Data is in fact, rarely sufficient in this thing we like to call real life. Tests change the way we respect results because they crystalize our efforts in a number that we are just going to have to deal with. We hate them because they’re cold-blooded and the current contemporary work culture is becoming a little too soft for my taste.
I’ve spent the past week comparing test-taking to athletic performance, honored to finally be able to understand how sports are played on athlete’s bodies and brains simultaneously. The same situation is true for tests. Thanks to the GRE, I have learned that consistency, discipline, rigor and training, all skills ostensibly only associated with muscle growth, have actually even more positive repercussions when training the one muscle I have always considered myself to have been blessed with: my brain.
