And now for some REAL fun at the dinner table, it’s time for …
SAT Vocabulary Flash Cards!
Because you don’t know how to suck the marrow out of life until you sit down with the entire family for a nice, nutritious meal, and then proceed to show how little you grasp about the English language.
Now, that’s what you call living, kids.
It’s been all about gearing up for the PSAT the past couple of weeks in my house. The PSAT stands for “Preliminary Scholastic Aptitude Test.” It is a practice exam for high school sophomores like my daughter, and it has one simple objective: Scare the living daylights out of you so you go back and prepare for the real SAT. Because the SAT, as we all know, is the mother of all standardized tests – the T-Rex of its class. It is widely used for college admissions, and guaranteed to have fewer than two questions that are actually relevant in the real world. (Plus, you get to show your skill at filling in bubbles with a No. 2 pencil.)
So, to get us ready – or just to supremely embarrass me – my wife dug out the box of SAT Vocabulary Flash Cards that a family member gifted us. (The box has a sticker on it that proclaims “Students’ #1 Choice,” but I’m dubious – vocab word POSSIBLY used in correct context – that any student in the history of mankind would ever make such a claim.)
“Mom,” my daughter protested the first night. “The SAT doesn’t even have a vocabulary section anymore!”
My wife stared and thought about this. “Oh, well,” she finally said. “At least it’s good practice … and a lot of fun.”
I am here to tell you that vocabulary flash cards are NOT a lot of fun.
The reason is quite simple: You become keenly aware of just how bad your vocabulary is, which is especially demoralizing if one of your college degrees is in English, and you have spent the better part of your life being paid to write words that you clearly don’t understand. (Don’t tell anyone.)
I mean: I thought “anecdote” was what they gave you after you drank poison. (Or is it “drunk?” Words are confusing!)
It became painfully clear within the first couple of cards that I have the vocabulary skills of a stunted fruit bat. Even relatively easy ones tripped me up. Like trying to define, or use in a sentence, the word “anomaly.”
My daughter – who is the queen of turning cow manure into something resembling Picasso-like masterpieces – proclaimed this to be easy: “The cat is an anomaly,” she said. “See? You don’t even need to know the meaning of the word. It works with everything!”
Oh, this kid is going far.
Only this “kid” isn’t a kid anymore. She’s a sophomore in high school, and this test stuff has me realizing that the coming-of-college is very real. Like, it’s not only looming, but has already crashed down upon our heads. And all we have to prepare for it is a box of dusty vocab flash cards for a test section that doesn’t even exist anymore.
We’re totally doomed!
I don’t remember much about my own experience with the SAT. Mainly being led into my high school’s gym. The doors being locked and armed dogs (I think they wore barbed wire collars) stationed at the doors. Stern instructions were given. We were not to talk to anyone. We weren’t to look at anyone or anything, including the test. Bathroom breaks were not permitted. Breathing was not permitted. If you had to cry or scream, you had to do that deep down in the pit of your soul. It was so quiet that if a pin dropped, you could hear every atom rattling around inside of it. And at some point, someone gave a very motivating and powerful speech. The gist of it was this: If you don’t do well on this test, your career will be in canning beans. So, good luck!
Now, that’s what I call an ideal test-taking environment. In fact, there are only two worse environments: On an actual battlefield with bullets whizzing over your head, or underwater … without a Scuba tank. It’s a wonder I got more than five answers right.
With all of this weighing on us, we know the stakes – how important all of this is – and we’re scrambling to catch-up. Trying to figure out what “aptitude” means, and if having a good one can make up for other failings in life. Researching test prep services. Trying to understand how, with all the technological advancements in the world, a test for college still makes you use an antique, wooden No. 2 pencil to fill in tiny bubbles on an antique sheet of paper that is then scanned into what I can only imagine is an antique computer. I mean, why don’t we just fax it to them!?!
It’s a lot, and exhausting. If the vocabulary flash cards have shown me anything, it’s that I don’t know nothing. And that’s pretty terrifying. So, our dinner table has become an SAT pressure cooker. The vocabulary flash cards will keep flying fast and furious. At least until we are … um … Shoot! What’s a really fancy word for “ready?”