The GRE: I did it!

It's nice to know that some part of my brain is actually functioning better than when I was 16 years old. My GRE Verbal score yesterday was higher than my SAT Verbal score was 37 years ago! How do I know my score already? Because the computer told me! Right after I finished the test. Strange, I know. The whole experience was strange. And you may have noticed that I have not mentioned my math score. Oh well, it was passable. I still have to wait to get the writing score, but I am not worried. It was that math that was so tortuous.

I took the test in an office building located three blocks from where I teach. I arrived early, signed in, and then wrote out in long-hand a statement to the effect that I would not cheat or disclose anything on the test. I left all my personal belongings in a locker out in the waiting room. I was allowed to bring my glasses in to the testing room, but nothing else. I signed in and had my picture taken after showing my drivers license. I was handed pencils and scratch paper. Then I was ushered into a room which had cubicles with computers. Each cubicle was monitored by a camera connected to the sign-in station. Everyone sitting in there was half my age, but I tried to ignore them.

The GRE is a computer adapted test. The computer asks you a question. If you get it right, it asks you a harder question. If you get it wrong, it asks you an easier question. The harder the question, the more it is weighted into your score. It is timed, of course. Pacing yourself against the time ticking down in the corner of the screen is critical, and it makes it very nerve-wracking.

A thought occurred to me as I was taking the test that I was really glad not to be one of those 20-something stressed out people in there. They are probably thinking this is their LIFE, man! Grad school, or else what? There was a young woman in the bathroom before I started who had obviously had a meltdown and possibly been sick. She was patting wet paper towels on her face. Thanks to Suzanne's pep talk driving to the test, I had asked myself going in - if I did not do well on the test, then what's the worst that could happen? Maybe I don't get into the particular master's program I wanted, but I still get to go on doing what I have been doing, which I basically enjoy very much and get paid decently for doing. This silly test is not going to be life-changing for me, but maybe it is for some of these poor people! I am glad to be past that stage of life, let me tell you.

Back to the test, the writing section came first. Two analytical essays to write. The first one gave a choice of two prompts. Both of them have to do with the arts. OK, I'm good there. After writing maybe three paragraphs, I finally notice that there is no spell check on this computer! Duh, it's a test... Oh well, I did win the school spelling bee in the 7th grade. The second essay is the argument essay, where you analyze the reasoning in an argument. Now this one was weird. It had to do with men fainting at the dentist and targeting advertising to them. I hope I did not just violate that secrecy agreement I signed. Anyway, I finished each essay with less than a minute to spare.

Next came the quantitative analysis section. Not having taken an actual math class for oh, nearly four decades, this is the part where I seriously question why I am putting myself through this torture. The fact that I wound up getting the score I did amazes me. Maybe I got lucky on some of my guesses, thanks to the "Lucky" shirt I was wearing. On to the verbal reasoning: sentence completion, analogies, antonyms and reading comprehension. I know I'm doing well because I get a really hard passage to read about African-American imagist poets and jazz, and before I know it, it's over! Wrong, it's not over, it says "proceed to the next test." Oh yeah I forgot, one of the sections was experimental and wasn't scored. Which means I am doing some section all over again, with different questions of course. Sure enough, it's the damn math, but hey, I survived it once, I can do it again.

Seeing my scores at the end, I want to shout out and jump up and down, but there are other people still testing so I restrain myself. Finally walking out of there is a great feeling! Huge weight off shoulders and all. Never have to do that again. Thank you, Lord. Time to celebrate!