At 8 a.m., the school gym is silent except for the constant clacking of laptops and the shuffle of backpacks. Sophomores and juniors stare at their screens—some gripping their pencils like stress toys, others just frozen in front of the test. In that tense moment, the PSAT feels like a make-or-break exam. But once you step outside the testing room, things start to look more complicated: for some, the PSAT is a gateway to opportunity; for others, it’s overhyped. Either way, it still adds to the stress while quietly revealing deeper inequities beneath the surface.
Mandating the PSAT as a school-wide requirement does offer clear benefits, especially within Menlo’s academically ambitious culture. Mainly taken by Menlo sophomores and juniors, it’s most likely the first time that they have taken a timed digital exam that combines multiple subjects and skills, while also not having college admissions attached. The test shows them what it feels like to sit through long stretches of reading and math questions, handle time limits and move between different types of problems.
A student who freezes during the first module can figure out how to recover, and when they face a major exam like the SAT next time, they know how to adjust their pacing. In that sense, the PSAT (meaning pre-SAT) is also a practice space where students can make mistakes, learn from them and walk into future tests with a clearer sense of what the experience is actually like. Thus, in a hyper-competitive school like Menlo, where the student culture places a heavy emphasis on college admissions is prioritized, the PSAT is really a risk-free way of easing students into that testing culture while giving them a structured, school-supported first experience. Additionally, because there’s nothing to lose by taking the PSAT, your score can only help you. The best-case scenario is qualifying for National Merit recognition, which not only feels rewarding after all that prep but also becomes an additional academic honor you can include in your college applications.
Though the PSAT does have some noticeable benefits, it also carries challenges that complicate its role in schools. For many students, the test’s “practice” label doesn’t make it feel any less stressful. Sitting in a crowded room at eight in the morning, staring at the same screen as everyone else, it’s easy for stressed students to feel that a single score determines their future much more than it actually does. And while some students walk in ready with practice and knowledge from tutors, prep books or test-taking strategies already drilled into them, others show up with little guidance, turning the situation more into a reflection of wealth and resource inequalities across minorities. A student who struggles without reading accommodations or lacks a quiet place to study faces a very different kind of exam than the one the test was designed to represent.
Even the idea of National Merit, despite its appeal, can heighten the pressure for students who know they’re unlikely to qualify but still feel the weight of comparison. In that way, the PSAT’s value becomes double-edged: the same test that is supposed to be low-stakes often amplifies stress and reinforces divides, making its benefits harder to access for the very students who might need them most.
Ultimately, the PSAT’s impact depends less on the score report and more on how schools and students choose to interpret it. When framed as a tool for practice rather than a final verdict on academic potential, it can offer meaningful insight and preparation. But when loaded with pressure, comparison and uneven access to resources, its usefulness becomes harder to see. Understanding both sides of the exam allows students to approach it with a clearer perspective: it may make someone happy for a couple of hours, or even spark some future goals, but it does not — and should not — define anyone’s path.
