(High) Scores to Settle (rough)
Harvard University: 1520 out of 1600
Stanford University: 1570 out of 1600
Seoul National University: 377 out of 400
Tsinghua University: 681 out of 750
Peking University: 680 out of 750
These numbers are the average college entrance exam or standardized test scores of students admitted to the most prestigious universities in East Asia, the United States, and the world. They represent the nearly unattainable, almost holy prestige associated with elite institutions of education. They represent the social mobility, employment opportunities, and better life all parents want for their children. They represent the physical, psychological, and financial sacrifices students make for prestige. Most importantly, they both represent and hide the plummeting mental health of East Asian and Asian American high school students.
As a result of historical and cultural emphasis on education, East Asian students face tremendous and mounting pressure from their parents to get into highly ranked universities compared to students of other ethnic backgrounds. Starting from the imperial dynasties of its early history until the late 1950s, China had an annual civil service examination (the keju) open to all citizens, regardless of socioeconomic background or status. If they studied hard and received a high score, any individual could become a public official in the emperor’s service. The top scorer could even marry a princess, elevating themselves and their families into nobility and wealth. Simply put, dedication and a good score would ensure one’s own success, as well as prosperity for generations to come. The concept of selecting bureaucrats based on educational merit soon spread throughout East Asia, becoming popular in Japan, Korea, and even Vietnam. For centuries, the keju remained the only steadfast, respectable route of socioeconomic mobility accessible to all, creating and reinforcing a cultural emphasis on education that continues today. While the civil service examination no longer exists today, the value of education still rings true for East Asian students. In “Can Education Values be Borrowed? Looking into Cultural Differences,” Dr. Kai-Ming Cheng points out that “in mainland China, formal education remains the only path for conversion of rural citizenship into urban citizenship. In Japan, passing the university entrance examination is still a necessary first step toward a respectable career. Thus, children labor under incredible pressure to study for and pass their exams. To a significant degree education is still seen as the major, though no longer the only, route for upward mobility in East Asian societies” (Cheng 17). The modern versions of the keju — China’s gaokao, South Korea’s hanja, and Japan’s Sentaa Shiken — are the college entrance exams that dictate where students spend their college years, employment prospects, social networks, and more. In other words, achieving top scores on standardized tests has incredible historical and cultural significance in East Asia.
Taking into account the history and cultural values that surround them, East Asian parents are inclined to put enormous academic pressure on their children’s test scores. As evidenced by the scores above, the numerical thresholds for elite schools in East Asia are becoming more and more difficult to reach. Propelled by cultural values and tightening competition, parental pressure on students has reached frightening heights. Of course, one cannot deny the statistical effectiveness of parental pressure. VOA News reports “Students in China, Singapore, Macao… Japan … Korea … and Hong Kong are among those who eclipse U.S. students in reading, math and science, according to an international study of education worldwide.” It seems that East Asian students are leading the pack; whatever their parents are doing, it’s working.
Yet scores only tell one part of the story. Once we dive past the shiny exterior of high scores, we see that intense parental pressure has manifested itself in East Asian students’ increasingly toxic mental health. A research team under the Harvard Graduate School of Education found “Research confirm[ed] the debilitating of academic stress on Chinese students. In a study with [Chinese students] from urban and rural areas, Therese Hesketh and her colleagues found that … 73% of them were physically being punished by parents for lax academic effort. Over one-third of the children reported having psychosomatic symptoms at least once a week. In a study by the Beijing-based China Youth and Children Research Center, researchers … found that 76.2% of the students reported being in a bad mood because of academic pressure and high parental expectation” (Zhao 2). Unsurprisingly, China’s low levels of student mental health are mirrored in other East Asian countries with standardized college entrance exams. The extreme familial pressures on numbers may have pushed East Asian students to the top of statistics but has made their psychological and physical lives unbearable. The shocking discrepancy between academic achievement and the mental state of the achievers begs the question: Do test score success stories really make successful people?
The same question can be asked in where I live: California, home to the largest East Asian American immigrant population in the country. According to the Public Policy Institute of CA, “Foreign-born residents represented at least one-third of the population in five California counties… Among [CA] immigrants who arrived between 2010 and 2019, more than half (53%) were born in Asia” (“Immigrants in California”). Furthermore, Chinese Americans and Vietnamese Americans subgroups make up a large proportion of the Asian immigrant population in California. Like their native counterparts, East Asian American children face intense pressure on test scores from their parents, as well as similar mental and physical health struggles as a result.
Along these lines, it is easy to attribute the academic pressure East Asian immigrant parents put on their children solely to their education-heavy cultural values. After all, what else differentiates them from other second-generation immigrant children in California? The answer is obvious and not obvious at all: their status as East Asian immigrants. An academic journal published by American Psychologist clarifies, asking “why do these other ethnic [minority groups such as Blacks and Latinos] fail to adopt education as a means of mobility? … It is worth noting that ethnic minority groups have different cultural backgrounds and different historical contemporary experiences in the United States” (919). In other words, East Asian immigrants push their children academically more not just because of native cultural values, but because of their uniquely East Asian experience with US immigration policies that shaped their entry and populations in the United States. In “It Takes More than Grit: Reframing Asian American Achievement,” Jennifer Lee argues that “the cultural manifestations of Asian American achievement have legal and structural roots — namely the change in US immigration law in 1965 that altered the socioeconomic profiles of Asian immigrants. Privileging those with high levels of education and skills, the Immigration and Naturalization Act of 1965 ushered in a stream of highly educated, highly skilled immigrants from Asia.” Put simply, only the best of the best were given the opportunity to come to the United States. The American job opportunities and visas were only available to those from top universities. The historical hyper-selectivity in immigration policies targeting East Asians explain the high education levels of Asian immigrants today. For example, 51% of Chinese immigrants in the US are college educated compared to the 36% of the general American population. More specifically, 66% of recent CA immigrants attended university at the associate, undergraduate, masters, or graduate level (“Immigrants and Education in California”).
In a modern context, the educational criteria used to limit Asian immigration contribute to their current perception of education. Because many of them were able to build a life in the United States because of their own college entrance exams, East Asian immigrant parents place a heightened value on their children’s scores. For them, the beginning of a better life has a numerical value. Drawing from their personal experiences with testing, these parents perceive a high SAT or ACT score (US standardized tests for college admissions) as critical to their children’s success. While cultural values may have created a test-centric outlook, US immigration policy reinforced it in East Asian families. To summarize, East Asian cultural values and hyper-selectively in East Asian immigration culminate in extraordinary pressure on standardized test scores in the United States.
As I make the argument for high expectations for second-generation immigrants, I realize it could be misconstrued as isolating academic pressure to East Asian American students. I am not denying that other groups and individuals are not expected to do well on standardized tests by their parents. Rather, I am saying that parental pressure on standardized tests is heightened overall in East Asian immigrant families, as well as the risk of subsequent physical and psychological issues for their students.
Much like their foreign counterparts, East Asian American students’ mental and physical health are severely impacted by parental pressure. The numerical mindset East Asian immigrant parents advocate is internalized by their children. One’s sense of self hinges entirely on a score and its placement in relation to others. College admissions may be a “numbers game,” but these students now perceive their lives as numbers. Suniya Luther, an ASU psychology professor, explores the impact of this “self-measurement” system: “When a child’s sense of self-worth is dependent on what they achieve, it can lead to anxiety and depression. Anxiety can come from worrying about keeping up with or outshining peers, while depression can be caused by a failure to achieve” (Wallace). The damage done to mental health manifests itself in a myriad of ways — some barely noticeable and brushed off as “weird study habits” and others making national headlines. It is not uncommon for students to skip meals, reject interpersonal interaction, and concentrate all their time on getting that perfect score. In fact, some parents even encourage these practices, praising them as efficient and signs of a successful future.
For many East Asian children, childhood has transformed into a crushing climb to the (numerical) top. Even worse, its subjects are unable and unwilling to cope with the expectations forced upon them. In East Asia, mental health and treatment are extremely stigmatized. Like the historical prioritization of exam scores, East Asia’s stance on mental health issues is rooted in history. Psychiatry expert Chee Hong Ng attributes the “strong psychiatric stigma … attached to the family [to] the burden of intense shame and guilt they carry. Mental illness tarnishes family honour, name, and ancestors. Origin of psychiatric stigma is partly in the fear of the [East Asian] family exposing its own shame to outsiders. The stronger the wish to conceal its ‘disgrace’ from being exposed, the more intense the psychiatric stigma” (Ng 385). While discussion of psychological health has definitely progressed beyond “disgrace,” contemporary East Asian families continue to view mental health as a matter of “gritting your teeth” until you reach your goals. As a result, student mental health generally goes unaddressed in East Asian high schools.
On the other hand, the importance of adolescent mental wellness has achieved a consensus among academic and scientific experts in the United States. However, this general agreement has failed to translate into permanent, meaningful action. For instance, following the suicide of a California high schooler in 2013, her high school was allocated five additional counselors (eight total at the school) to address the concerns of teachers and students. A summer later, the additional counselors were gone due to insufficient funding. Another common practice to help high school students cope with academic pressure is “doggy wellness days,” when high schools employ several therapy dogs for the general student body. Meant to serve as respite from suffocating competition and the score comparison, these “wellness days” offer ten minutes of fluffy pet therapy — at the most. Some high schools took a more restricting, academic approach: restricting the number of Advanced Placement courses (APs) students could take in a year. Such measures were eventually overturned after parents petitioned the schools about “missed opportunities” and complaining that their child could “handle the pressure.” Clearly, the current institutional attempts at easing pressure on high schoolers fail to effect long-term change. Of course, I am not denouncing school counselors or adorable pet therapists. Rather, I hope that these coping mechanisms can become long-term and accessible to more students. As evidenced by the removal of additional counselors in 2013, mental health resources in schools lack attention and most importantly, funding to make any positive change. I propose a more pro-active, permanent protection of mental wellness in high schools.
However, it is important to note that these coping mechanisms are unable to fully address and lessen the pressures and psychological barriers East Asian high schoolers face. To truly do so, I propose the phasing out and eventual dismantling of the standardized college entrance exam, removing the source of numbers anxiety and expectations. In advocating for the removal of these national examinations, I fully acknowledge the equity concerns that may arise. Historically, scores have represented the universal accessibility of education. Through hard work and dedication, anyone and everyone could make a better life. Yet the “universal” appeal of standardized testing is no longer universal.
Catering to the numbers-centric East Asian parents are millions of test prep and cram schools, each advertising their “essential” services to increase scores. Not only do these test prep institutions encourage and profit of the East Asian test-heavy mindset, but they also create an inequity within the supposedly universal opportunity success standardized testing provides. Each “essential” test prep service costs upwards of one thousand dollars, a financial sacrifice many families are unable to afford. The accessibility of the test itself versus the inaccessibility of learning resources needed to pass the test defeats the equity argument for college entrance exams. Put simply, standardized testing systems have become obsolete. The modern standardized test is no longer a non-discriminatory route for socioeconomic mobility and therefore should be abolished in favor a more student-centric, equitable college admissions process.
Currently, college admissions in the United States are primarily dependent on three things: standardized test scores, grade point average (GPA), and college essays. Unlike single examination scores, a student’s GPA encompasses their work and progress over the course of high school, rather than a lengthy sit-down examination that could go wrong at any moment. Put simply, GPA is more reflective of the student’s work ethic and academic prowess than test scores are. Furthermore, college essays are undeniably more student-central than test scores. These written questions examine students’ creativity, humanity, humor, logic, etc. — characteristics that define a person more than a score ever will. These are the parts of a student that matter in and out of the classroom, as well as the ones colleges should value. By promoting long term dedication and character, college applications become more than a selection process, but a journey of self-improvement — rather than score improvement — as well. The absence of standardized testing increases the value of GPA and student essays — application components that show the person a college is accepting, not the statistic.
Works Cited
Cheng, Kai-ming. “Can Education Values Be Borrowed? Looking into Cultural Differences.” Peabody Journal of Education, vol. 73, no. 2, 1998, pp. 11–30. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/1493013. Accessed 22 Apr. 2021.
“Immigrants in California.” Public Policy Institute of California, Public Policy Institute of California, 24 Mar. 2021, www.ppic.org/publication/immigrants-in-california/.
Lee, Jennifer. “It Takes More than Grit: Reframing Asian American Academic Achievement.” Items, Items, 5 June 2019, items.ssrc.org/from-our-programs/it-takes-more-than-grit-reframing-asian-american-academic-achievement/.
Ng, Chee Hong. “The Stigma of Mental Illness in Asian Cultures.” Australian & New Zealand Journal of Psychiatry, vol. 31, no. 3, 1997, pp. 382–390., doi:10.3109/00048679709073848.
Sue, Stanley, and Sumie Okazaki. “Asian-American Educational Achievements: A Phenomenon in Search of an Explanation.” American Psychologist, vol. 45, no. 8, Aug. 1990, pp. 913–920., doi:10.1037/0003–066x.45.8.913.
VOA Student Union. “Asian Nations Score Top Grades Worldwide.” Voice of America, 4 Dec. 2019, 11:36 PM, www.voanews.com/student-union/asian-nations-score-top-grades-worldwide.
Wallace, Jennifer Breheny. “Students in High-Achieving Schools Are Now Named an ‘at-Risk’ Group, Study Says.” The Washington Post, WP Company, 24 Oct. 2019, www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/2019/09/26/students-high-achieving-schools-are-now-named-an-at-risk-group/.
Zhao, Xu, et al. “Academic Stress in Chinese Schools and a Proposed Preventive Intervention Program.” Cogent Education, vol. 2, no. 1, 9 Jan. 2015, p. 1000477., doi:10.1080/2331186x.2014.1000477.