put me to the test: me and the gre

It’s easy to hate a standardized test. I assume that’s where we all start, despising them with all our hearts, cataloging a mountain of arguments explaining exactly why they’re a flawed method of evaluating a person’s current or even future potential. At present, after having been through an intense test-preparation process, I must admit that, though I still agree with some of the criticism levied at standardized testing, mainly the big monetary investment it involves, I believe they’re a positive force for both the student and institution. This may not be immediately apparent, but trust me. 

If you’re going to apply to a particular institution, you have to accept the rules of the game and understand how student supply and college demand work together to find equilibrium. For the applicant, you have to be prepared to portray yourself as a quality candidate and a good fit, and for the institution, well they need to set up the proper filters to make sure you’re the person you say you are. Otherwise, priorities may not align as the relationship progresses, and we all know that’s exactly how relationships fail. If this is an idea that sounds preposterous to you, maybe this isn’t your journey. But, while I studied for the GRE, I couldn’t help but say to myself, “Stop believing you’re 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 criticism associated with standardized testing is the result of looking at it from solely a test-taker’s perspective. Test-takers assume that these tests should be designed to help them portray the best versions of themselves to colleges, as opposed to recognizing their true purpose—to filter, classify, and categorize applicants with real data, in other words, to provide colleges with concrete answers. Most students despise standardized exams because they think the test is for them, when they’re really designed to serve the institution. Why does accepting this reality matter? Because once you’re able to let go of the ego associated with these tests, you can actually get to studying.

However, we all know that a standardized test score can’t be the only tool to evaluate a person's potential. This would, of course, only be telling part of the story. But if we’re careful enough to consider how a test fits into a student’s overall narrative, it’s easy to understand that the only thing an institution is asking is that we’re coherent. I have a bachelor of arts in literary studies, and applying for an MBA with a GMAT immediately tells the institution I’m applying to that I haven’t done a good job of evaluating my own skills. 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 where my strengths lie? Little decisions like these show an institution if you’re the type of person that will flourish as a member of their student body or not. 

Perhaps the most impactful part of my GRE preparation has been the intellectual challenge. And when I say intellectual I actually mean non-emotional. After spending more than five years in the labor force, one is inclined to believe that their brain is challenged and utilized. Fair enough, it probably is, to an extent. However, it’s important to highlight that, at least in my experience, working is more often executing soft skills than hard skills. I would say eighty-percent of my job is understanding what is expected of me and my team and twenty percent is execution. A lot of us charismatic human beings can smile our way out of a deadline, provide valid arguments that don’t require data points in order to clarify them, and make infinite mistakes with few repercussions. Tests change the way we respect results because they solidify our efforts in a number that we’re just going to have to deal with. We hate them because they’re cold-blooded, but the contemporary work-culture is getting a little soft for my taste. 

I’ve spent the past week thinking about the similarities between test-taking and athletic performance, and I’m finally able to understand how sports are beneficial for athletes’ minds, not just their bodies. Because of the GRE I’ve learned that consistency, discipline, rigor, and training, all skills typically associated with muscle growth, have even more benefits when training the one muscle I’ve always thought to be blessed with—my brain. 

Note from the author (2023)

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Este ensayo lo escribí en plena pandemia, cuando el encierro y la crisis existencial no solo me llevaron a un diagnóstico de depresión clínica sino también, al intento de venderme a mí misma la idea de que mi siguiente paso en la vida era ingresar un MBA. Rápidamente, el tiempo me enseñó que tenía que tomar una ruta: o estudiaba para el MBA o terminaba de escribir “La Practicante”.  No podía hacer los dos a la misma vez, no me daba el cuerpo ni la mente. Ya sabemos qué terminó pasando y lo agradezco demasiado. 

Lo que sí rescato de  aunque sea haber tratado es que si bien el MBA no es para mí, sí creo que es para muchísima gente. Y, en ese orden de ideas, considero que de las cosas más admirables que tienen las personas que se meten a esa ruta es que son tremendamente consistentes, disciplinados y ordenados con sus objetivos. Admiro por sobre todas las cosas, el criterio de realidad que tienen. Aceptan las reglas del mundo cómo es y lo usan a su favor, en todo sentido. Mi transición a ese mindset fue difícil pero creo que ya la tengo. No a su nivel, estimados realistas, pero sí lo suficiente como para apreciarla en otros.