The Stories Behind the Scores

As ACT scores begin to release today, it calls into question what standardized testing is actually evaluating. Standardized test scores are often treated as objective measures of academic ability, but they also reflect something much larger: economic inequality.

Tests like the SAT and ACT are reasonably good measures of academic and general knowledge. The English sections assess grammar and reading skills that students are expected to carry into adulthood, while the math sections review concepts that should be thoroughly covered in school. But the accuracy of these metrics seems to apply most clearly to a narrow group of students: those with higher socioeconomic status. 

This is nothing new. We have known that educational access in America is unequal. We have known that low-income students often attend under-resourced schools compared to students from wealthier families. We know that students in lower-income communities frequently score below their higher-income peers on state assessments. Still, the numbers are startling.

In a recent report, Harvard’s Opportunity Insights found that students from the nation’s wealthiest families were about 13 times more likely to score 1300 or above on the SAT or ACT than their low-income peers (Chetty, Deming, and Friedman). That gap matters because these scores are not just numbers on an application. For decades, standardized tests have served as gateways to opportunity and, by extension, social mobility. When access to high scores depends so heavily on family income, the test becomes less a ladder of opportunity and more a mirror of existing inequality. 

This debate has become especially urgent as elite universities begin returning to mandatory testing. Columbia’s decision to reinstate its test-optional policy for the 2027-2028 admissions cycle signals a broader retreat from the test-optional policies many colleges adopted during the pandemic (“Columbia Becomes Last Ivy”). If these scores are once again becoming central to admissions, then colleges must also confront the inequalities built into the path towards achieving them. 

These disparities begin long before junior year. By kindergarten, studies show that many children have already experienced very different levels of academic preparation. Vocabulary is a major part of that gap. 

Child A grew up doing chores and running errands. Child B grew up helping with los quehaceres and mandados, and learning responsibility through words and routines that may never appear on a worksheet. Both children are learning. Both children are building discipline. But when they enter an American classroom, only one child’s vocabulary is immediately recognized as preparation. 

Child A attends yearly check-ups with her pediatrician and gets vaccinated on schedule, and has her hearing and vision tested before anyone expects her to read from the board. Child B faces a health system shaped by exclusion: limited access to preventative care, high out-of-pocket costs, language barriers, and programs that may not be built for refugee and migrant families. While Child A’s health needs are caught early, Child B’s may go unnoticed until they become obvious barriers in the classroom.

It doesn’t help that schools reward readiness before it teaches it. A child who can see the board, recognize classroom vocabulary, and arrive healthy enough to focus is not simply “better prepared” by chance. They have vastly more support that makes learning easier. When Child A learns the difference between the greater-than and less-than symbols, she is learning one new thing; Child B may be learning the symbols, the words “greater” and “less,” the instructions to “circle the bigger number,” and the expectation that she should already know how to ask for help. The gap is not that Child B cannot learn quickly. It is that she is being asked to learn the lesson and the language of the lesson at the same time. 

By the time both students reach the SAT or ACT, those early differences have had years to compound. A standardized test may measure grammar and reading skills that students are expected to know, as well as math concepts that should have been thoroughly covered in school, but it also measures access. It measures access to health care, stable routines, early vocabulary, and the cultural language of the classroom. It measures tutoring, financial status, school resources, and time. If colleges choose to require these tests again, they cannot overlook the inequalities behind that score. A score may show what a student knows on one Saturday morning, but it also reveals how many doors were open for them long before they ever entered the testing room.

By Allison Lu

References

Chetty, Raj, David J. Deming, and John N. Friedman. “Diversifying Society’s Leaders? The Determinants and Causal Effects of Admission to Highly Selective Private Colleges.” Opportunity Insights, July 2023, opportunityinsights.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/07/CollegeAdmissions_Paper.pdf.

“Columbia Becomes Last Ivy to Reinstate Standardized Test Scores Requirement Post-COVID.” Columbia Daily Spectator, 12 June 2026, www.columbiaspectator.com/news/2026/06/12/columbia-becomes-last-ivy-to-reinstate-standardized-test-scores-requirement-post-covid/.