SATirically successful


Cartoon courtesy of ANNETTE KIM

Some people’s favorite number is 3, for others, it’s 13, but for me, it’s 1600—the number of success and perfection. Every class, every day, every minute of my life has been dedicated to one sole purpose: to see that special number flash up on my College Board account.

It’s common knowledge that the SAT is the best way to measure a person’s intelligence and future success. Who needs charisma, creativity or even basic life skills when you have a standardized test to show your superiority? Once you have your perfect score secured, you’ll have proof that you’re the smartest person in the room every day from now up to your funeral. 

With standardized testing as the end-all-be-all in a high schooler’s life—anyone and everyone’s life, really—I have spent all of my time and effort trying to earn the top score, with everything from an SAT prep course to taking a practice test every day. 

But there are always people that don’t appreciate the meaning of hard work, like the sinister Universities of California, who recently stopped accepting SAT scores. It’s as if they want people who are too lazy to take a measly $1,000 SAT-prep course to enroll in their schools. How could they prioritize grades and extracurriculars over SAT scores, the best measure of someone’s intelligence and future success?

Unlike those Neanderthals, I am willing to put in the hard work because I know that a perfect SAT score will always be much more impressive than extracurriculars, passions and even a 4.0 GPA.

And of course, there’s no way to take a practice test every day without cutting some things loose. Even though I have no social life and Sal from Khan Academy is my only friend, I know all my hard work will pay off when the colleges see my perfect 1600 score. 

Some of my classmates—or should I say, my competition—asked me what I’ll do if I don’t get a 1600 on the SAT. To them, I have no response. Standardized tests are the only things that matter in life, so if I don’t do well, I wouldn’t have a future. 

Since failure isn’t an option for me, sometimes I imagine my future life to scare myself when I feel tired of studying. All I need to do is imagine my post-high school years unemployed and living in my parents’ basement because that’s obviously the only future a low scorer would have. 

So that’s why I do what I do. It’s not for the fame or the glory, but so that I can become the future CEO of Apple or Amazon—a position exclusive to those who score a 1600 on the SAT. So after I take the test on Dec. 3, don’t be surprised when you hear about me on TV.