Image from TIME.
The most widely discussed topic last week in relation to higher education has been the College Board’s decision to redesign its Scholastic Aptitude Test (SAT), which was surpassed in the recent years by its competitor, the American College Testing (ACT), in terms of the number of test takers. While many proposed changes — demanding less difficult vocabularies, allowing the writing paper to be taken optionally, and narrowing down mathematical topics — have caught the attention of high school students, another point worthy of notice is SAT’s provision of its free-of-charge, official online exam preparation guide videos and practice questions.
The reason behind this, as explained by the SAT, is to reduce disparities in students’ examination results because of their family income — two factors long proven to have a strong correlation. There is no doubt that students are more intellectually and psychologically prepared to take the actual exam with sufficient previous preparation. Hence, providing universal guidance for students is a step taken to ensuring fairness.
But while it may take years to fully evaluate the effectiveness of these free online resources in helping students from lower income families achieve better results, I nevertheless see this whole idea of making changes to SAT exams a good chance to revisit the debate over inequalities in college admission. Aside from family income, racial bias is a frequently addressed controversy.
Increased competition in top-tier universities, where the admission rate has always been around or even below 20–25%, often lead to dissatisfaction among those who have been rejected. When reading online articles related to admission decisions at this time of the year, it’s not rare to stumble upon frustrated comments or even claims about filing complains; they’re usually made by strong Asian-American applicants with “killer-SAT scores.” These responses echo with studies showing that Asian students generally need higher test scores than students of any other racial groups to be admitted. This raises the question, to what extent can these tests really be called “standardized” if their results are not treated with the same standard?
It’s a very difficult dilemma admission officers have to face when deciding between strong applicants. There is no correct answer to what “fairness” means in the context of college admission; responses vary greatly, as I observed, depending on who is affected. There are two main approaches. The most obvious way to define “fairness” is to completely ignore the applicant’s racial background and choose whether or not to accept them simply based on how strong their are. This follows a similar principle as the need-blind admission policy. Others, however, believe “fairness” is when applicants from every racial and socio-economic group are given a chance.
Based on the former definition, it’s possible for a college class to end up with a majority of Asian students; and based on the latter, it’s possible that a stronger Asian student is being chosen over by a weaker applicant of another racial group to ensure diversity. Both scenarios are undesirable in some way, but at the same time, supporters of either side make sense; they both stand for fairness, it’s just that their definitions of fairness differ greatly.
Image from BlackRadioNetwork
When asked if there are lower expectations to students from certain racial groups than others, universities often deny it and stress that they view applicant profiles holistically. While it’s difficult for outsiders to validate such claim, I like to think universities do indeed look at students as a whole rather than just their test scores. In fact, my school, New York University, has an average ACT score that is higher than what I got — and I am an Asian student. This seems to contradict with the common belief that universities only care about standardized test scores and that Asians are more likely to ace these tests. Rather, it shows that students like me who may not have done as well on exams can make it up by demonstrating other qualities.
And this is exactly why I strongly believe standardized testing is the origin of countless unnecessary frustration. On top of the correlation between a student’s score and family income, as well as the whole argument about racial backgrounds, the biggest problem I find is how students are assigned a numerical value by the score report which they overly attach themselves with.
A range of other factors — personal statements, school performance, extracurricular activities, recommendation letters, and more — also matter in the process of college admission. But despite knowing this, it is still hard, let’s say, to prevent a student who scores a 2340 on SAT from feeling like he deserves to be accepted over another who scores a 1920. In the end, this pressures both sides. The student with a lower score, feeling inferior, might force himself to invest even more money and time to retake the exam for a better result; the student with a higher score, feeling superior, might feel additionally frustrated and unfairly treated if he or she is rejected. Both are blinded by that very number they believe define them, when in fact, it merely reflects them as a whole.
Numbers are good because they allow easy comparisons. For this reason, it’s also bad for students as it implies their achievements are fixed to easy comparisons. That number gives some students the reason to feel underachieved and others to feel overachieved; it gives the natural impression of “the bigger, the better.” And when the outcome says otherwise, it gives the speculation that universities must have been biased in one way or another, even if they might have just used the test score as a very general reference point to complement other admission materials.
I’ve often been associated with the stereotypical image of a student in the STEM — science, technology, engineering, mathematics — fields; but the truth is, I’m good at none of these. “Really? You major in Journalism and History, not Math?” No. “But you are Asian!” I find it funny to be constantly stuck into these conversations, simply because I have no idea where these assumptions came from.
But as much as I’m not offended, I see an underlying danger: The danger of relating many unrelated things to racial reasons, even when little evidence suggest so. I admit it’s a sensitive topic, especially in America; and no way am I suggesting that removing standardized testing will prevent arguments on these lines. What I believe, however, is that test scores are easily and frequently misinterpreted, leading to pointless conjectures.
Today, the College Board has already acknowledged that its exam enlarges income disparities; they have also already acknowledged that its exam is not exactly parallel with high school curricula. In the future, perhaps we should take these thoughts one step further and ask ourselves the next question: Are standardized tests helpful to college admission, or do they just cause more troubles?