The SAT and ACT are no joking matter; my entire future depends on doing well on them. At least that’s what I’m told by my parents, peers, and even strangers, who all seem to view those two tests as the ultimate measure of one’s intellect, to which I say; “I’m more than just a number!”

This year, I have been bombarded by college apps, sports practices and schoolwork. The last thing I want to focus on is taking tests which may heavily influence what college I get into. But, as fate would have it, I do have to take those tests despite my already busy schedule and I have to pretend like they aren’t the worst way to spend a Saturday morning too.

The SAT wasn’t so bad the first time I took it, neither was the ACT, but by the fourth or fifth practice test, they started getting a little old. But through it all, my parents have thrown me time and time again into strange classrooms in strange schools to answer questions I haven’t been studying in school.

This is a shift for me; I’m used to having control of what classes I want to take, what clubs, sports and organizations I want to participate in. So this enforced schedule is a difficult change of pace; my mom takes care of the plans and I just pack a pencil and drive off to test.

I have heard people talking in the hallways, in the bathrooms, even in physics class prepping for these tests, an environment I’m not sure is entirely healthy. This situation seems to “benefit” some kids in a way I never thought possible, not only do they get to brush up on previously forgotten vocabulary and useful arithmetic functions and geometric proofs, but they also feel more comfortable writing essays. I personally don’t share these feelings, I still don’t think mollify would be a better word to use than pacify (they mean the same thing in case you don’t know) in any situation, nor do I think I am going to need to understand how to derive the volume of a cylinder, or even how to write a proper five-paragraph essay in 30 minutes.

The sense of accomplishment though is unmatched, finishing a four hour long test is pretty sweet despite the stressful four hours spent taking it. And when the score comes in the mail, my parents make my favorite dinner to tell me they love me no matter what, but just a little less if I failed it. In the end, the tests aren’t fun, but maybe if I stick through it I can make it to college with minimal emotional trauma.