Ugh. The S.A.T.

Critical reading, annoying bubbles, faulty No. 2 pencils and finding “x” were the bane of my existence for more than half a year.

But now some schools are reevaluating the importance of the S.A.T. amidst debate about whether high scores correlate with high income, race and even gender, and whether the test is an accurate indicator of scholastic ability.

Smith College in Northampton, Mass. and Wake Forest University in Winston-Salem, N.C. two weeks ago became the latest in a growing list of schools — mostly small, liberal arts colleges — that no longer require S.A.T. or A.C.T. scores as part of their applications.

The NYT Editorial Board applauded the two schools for their decision yesterday, saying: “By going test-optional, Wake Forest and Smith hope to broaden their applicant pools and increase access for groups that are underrepresented at selective schools.”

The S.A.T., after all, is not a measure of creativity, drive or other factors that can affect student performance. Despite these caveats, the test is widely touted as a sacred index that tells all. Educational rating services evaluate colleges based partly on the SAT scores of their students. Real estate brokers market homes based on the average scores at local public schools. Bond-rating companies even consider SAT scores when judging a college’s creditworthiness.

That is a lot of weight to place on one little test. It’s probably why I spent hours in summer S.A.T. prep at Iolani ($515 for a 6-week course) and took the test three or four times. I viewed the S.A.T. a four-hour stress-fest that could either make or break my chances of getting into a good school. And I’m the kind of person who would rather write a 20-page paper than take a final exam any day — read: bad test-taker.

Some colleges have found that eliminating the S.A.T. requirement broadens their applicant pool and can be a great marketing tool to potential applicants.

What would be the harm in all schools doing away with the S.A.T.? Well, the test does provide a valuable basis for comparison in lieu of grades. It’s hard to cheat on the S.A.T. or have someone do it for you (like an essay, for example). With colleges and universities across the country reporting record numbers of applicants this year, I imagine standardized test scores may be becoming increasingly useful in comparing applications, or even establishing a cut-off point for qualified applicants.

For that reason I suspect the dreaded S.A.T. will probably be around for years to come. I just hate to see high schoolers rule out any school because their scores “are not high enough.” It makes me uncomfortable to think that a four-hour test determines whether you are worthy of acceptance.

Tune in next week when I rail against the S.A.T.’s evil cousin — the G.R.E.!

image: www.sat-answers.com.

I caught an HPU advertisement on the radio this evening in which one presumably high school-age guy is talking to a friend, who is already in college.

“What are you doing this summer?” College-Age Guy asks High School Guy.

“I’m going to be at HPU, with you,” High School Guy replies. “I really want to get a head start on college classes.”

Good for High School Guy. He’s probably the ambitious type; maybe he’s getting a jump start on his education so he can finish in two or three years and go on to get a J.D. or a M.D. (In which case, he’ll become either Very Eligible Lawyer Guy or Very Eligible Doctor Guy.)

I assumed that the ad was a message to those about to enter college that taking summer school can be a good way to finish college in less than four years. And indeed, with the rising cost of education, more and more students are opting for that route.

Others, like this questioner, might do it because graduating earlier from college would mean graduating earlier from law school, a master’s program or medical school. A female friend, whom I had lunch with last week and is currently at JABSOM, said she purposely chose to go right into med school after college rather than taking a year off because of concerns about how soon she could do other things — like start a family — after earning her M.D. Although she did her undergrad in four years, I imagine there are many other med students out there who are willing to blitz through their college years for an earlier graduation from med school.

On the other end of the spectrum, however, there are those who take five, seven, even 10 years to go through what would normally be a four-year undergrad program. These career students belong to the Facebook group called “Graduating College in 4 Years is Like Leaving the Party at 9 p.m” (UHM Chapter). For many, reasons beyond their control dictate this extended undergrad experience — money, having to split work time and class time, being able to get into the right classes to finish your degree.

Or maybe, as freshmen, they want to major in Economics, then as sophomores, they want to major in Hawaiian Studies or Old English Poetry; then, they graduate with a a double major in Greek Philosophy and Communications, and a minor in Food and Restaurant Management.

But for others, maybe it even comes down to this: College is fun!

I grad from college in four years, and even that felt short. So, I guess it’s hard for me to understand why, in the absence of things like real money or time concerns, students would want to finish college early.

My dad often tells me that he can’t understand why college students wildly celebrate graduation, when they will leave the best years of their lives behind. I’m not sure if I’d call my college years the best of my life, but considering they were filled with meeting tons of great people my age, making lasting friendships, never waking up before 9 a.m., taking fascinating classes with incredible professors, having a party option every weekend, exploring New York and Boston and actually having spring, summer and Christmas vacations … yes, I’d say college was pretty darn awesome.

But maybe that’s just me. I wouldn’t want to stay out ’till 4 a.m., but I’d hate to leave a party when it’s just getting started.

Would you skew a paper’s thesis to match your professor’s political views if you thought it would earn you a good grade? Would you stick to your own beliefs if you thought it would negatively affect your grade?

An entry by Stanley Fish on his NYT blog, “Think Again,” is what got me thinking (again) about politics and the classroom.

Fish is talking about whether there is a correlation between a professor’s political affiliation and his or her teaching ability (he argues there is none). I’m been thinking about a more simple, but related, topic — how a professor who makes his or her political views very apparent in the classroom can create a detrimental learning environment for students.

I haven’t taken a poll, but I would guess that the majority of the faculty at the University of Hawai‘i lean in the liberal direction. In the few classes I have taken at UH, including a Hawaiian history class and a political science class, it was not difficult to figure out the instructors’ political viewpoints, and they made little effort to conceal their personal opinions about the subject matter. But I don’t know whether a couple of professors are indicative of the entire university.

I don’t mean to say this is only a problem at the University of Hawai‘i. I majored in Political Science at a tiny, liberal arts college in Massachusetts where there were of course concerns about some classroom lectures. Politically biased professors have also been the subject of many articles about higher education. A site called “Politics in the Classroom” has even been set up for students to “out” teachers whom they believe have a political agenda in the classroom.

Certainly, there is no problem with a professor holding strong political opinions. That kind of passion for your subject compels one to delve into the issues and often leads to better instruction. The problem starts when an instructor begins to use lessons as a platform for his or her political views. Then, the class ceases to be about academic learning and starts to be about political advocacy.

The worst is when this turns the classroom into an uncomfortable environment for any person who does not agree with the instructor’s personal politics.

True story: A friend once described a class with some of the most interesting reading material he had encountered in college. But the person teaching the class was so opinionated about the texts, he said, that he felt the only way to get an A was to skew his papers toward the instructor’s viewpoint.

In my opinion, that’s a dangerous situation. College should be about learning to think independently and creatively, because high school so often is not. And a college classroom is the last place in the world where a person should be made to feel uncomfortable about his or her views on any issue.