confessions of a below average act score
When I saw the little number written in blue under ‘My Scores’, my heart dropped. I typed it out in a text to my mom, and then my brother, already predicting their reactions: a few cursory words of congratulations and an enthusiastic agreement when I suggested retaking. It couldn’t exactly be called a bad score, as I defined it, but it fell below my personal goal: average at Uni High, which is a 32 on the ACT.
I promised myself it wouldn’t bother me. I tried to offer up all the usual justifications: I didn’t study, I had to pee, the whole thing was stupid anyway. But I couldn’t change the number I saw, and I couldn’t change how many people I knew who hadn’t studied, who had to pee, and had done better than me.
I’m no stranger to feeling like a failure in that patented Uni way. Second semester of physics, I spent more time crying over quizzes than actually doing them. The worst hour of my life was the one right before the final, which I spent hyperventilating in the bathroom. But I’d always made up for that with perceived ability in other areas. For every 11 I got in physics, I relied on a good essay grade or a thoughtful comment made in history to re-lift my self-esteem. But the ACT felt both objective and whole: it’d measured everything, including my supposed strengths, and I’d still come up short.
Convincing myself I was still okay, that I was still smart in spite of my score, wasn’t useful. When I told people about my insecurities, they bathed me in platitudes- “you’re still smart” “it doesn’t mean anything”, etc. But those phrases carry a dangerous message: you should be concerned about intelligence, and getting a high test score, but that I was okay. I didn’t have to worry about being stupid, but other people do, and those people should feel bad. If my score had been two points lower, then my feelings would be justified.
That attitude meant that I was still constantly anxious about being dumb. A little voice still had plenty of material to whisper in my ear about: what if you aren’t over that bar at all? Why didn’t you get national merit? Why did you make so many dumb mistakes? Why was your reading score so low? Isn’t that what you’re supposed to be good at?
What actually, materially helped me was reconfiguring my sense of worth, separating it from my intelligence entirely. I trained myself to view my score as representative of my ability on one specific type of examination- not of my entire being. And, critically, I learned to be okay with not being smart. I accepted that sure, I was statistically below average, and maybe that did say something about my ability, but so what? Weak denials were just that: weak. I could feel it the lingering sense of shame behind my thin shield, hot and heavy and ever-present. So I left them behind.
My value, I learned, comes not from any specific characteristic, any aspect of myself, but from the fact that I am. Not that I’m smart or not smart or pretty or not pretty or popular or not popular- just that I’m me. And me, and me alone, is good enough for me.
This is a great and timely antidote to the pressure that I'm feeling in Junior year. I've started finding excuses like "eh it's ok I'm good at other things" whenever I mess up something in any area, but I really need to remember that it doesn't matter how talented I am at anything: I have intrinsic value just because. That argument is also a really compelling reminder to focus on the values that you hold dear, as they are the closest thing we have to a measure of goodness.
ReplyDeleteThis perfectly sums up my attitude toward all my classes this year. You guys weren't kidding when you said junior year is hard. I've cried more in the past few weeks than I had all of last year. But you're right, grades don't define who you are or your worth, (even though it sometimes does because of uni's overly competitive environment), and your high school grades won't mean anything once you get into college. I've kind of reached a point where I'm just kinda of like it's whatever, I studied, tried my best and that's literally all that matters. I loved this post!
ReplyDeleteWhile I try so hard to deny the value I put into my test scores, inevitably I circle back to the conclusion: that my mediocre scores are nothing but the conclusive evidence that I am just that, mediocre. For me more specifically, as I'm interested in majoring in an engineering field, it's quite hard to deny how my test scores do not exude my confident abilities in math+physics two pinaccle areas of study I should be very proficient in. Standardized tests are quite a devilish thing, and coming to terms with them and trying to see them from a healthy perspective is something I still deal with. I'm glad that you've come to find values that go beyond the unhealthy, and narrow-minded ones that include intellect and grades, etc. Hopefully I will be able to come to grasp them as well soon.
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely. When I took the PSAT this year, I actually had to stop in the middle of the test and put my pencil down because my brain went on a tangent telling me if I didn't get a perfect 1600 I wasn't going to go to college. I mean, what the heck? Logically, I knew I couldn't get that score, I knew I wouldn't get that score, and I knew IT DID NOT MATTER, but my brain was so utterly convinced of it that I couldn't even function. I totally agree (even if I have trouble emulating) the sentiments you expressed at the end of this blog post.
ReplyDeletethis post was a little too close for comfort. i got my sat scores the day i left for vacation. i felt like an absolute failure. sure there was a fat grade in the reading section, but the math? an absolute joke. i was so ashamed i cried for almost an hour until my mom read me the real averages of high schoolers. i knew my scores reflect almost nothing about who i was, but i also couldn't separate my scores from myself. it was terrible. but there's really no solution. we're too deeply entrenched in uni's fail culture to get ourselves away. hopefully, this mindset will break in college. great post, natfst!
ReplyDeleteThis post hits exactly home and feels like something that every Uni student should read. Uni does such a good job of convincing people they aren't good at math, or science, or tests just because other people have the ability to score higher. I really like the way you unpack it to not just be "you're still smart even though you got this slightly lower score" but to just value yourself. That's really good advice.
ReplyDeleteThis post really does hit close to home. I remember getting my SAT scores on Spring Break and refusing to open them until I got home so that the score (good or bad) wouldn't ruin Spring Break. It really took me until this year to really put the environment we're in into perspective. Our "low" math class is considered the highest possible class at most (if not all) local high schools. We're in such an insulated academic bubble that we constantly forget how amazing all of our classes and all of our students are. As far as the standardized tests, my advice would be to look at them with a growth mindset. After all, if none of us feel they reflect our actual abilities, most of the stuff on the tests *cough* math *cough* is just a compilation of a bunch of practice test problems and solving techniques (or guessing well) can be learned. If the test REALLY weighs on you, you can always retake it after doing a little more studying too.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing this, I think you are presenting a very important message, especially at a school like Uni. I feel like over-valuing things like test scores and grades is kind of a plague among schools like Uni, and although (as you said) grades and intelligence matter, it was great to hear (from an intelligent person) a story about why evaluating yourself on only one area, such as grades and test scores can be dangerous. In the words of the prophetic and wise Mr. Leff, "You're not going to be on your death bed, wishing your PSAT score was a little higher."
ReplyDeleteI love this. I feel like Uni students get so wrapped up in being perfect and smart and some version of good enough, we start losing our basic sense of why we're valuable: because we're us. Because of what we believe and do and say - these things define our worth, and make us good people. Not a standardized test, or grades, or being uber-successful before we're even 18.
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