Beacon Psychological Testing: Fill & Download for Free

Even though I’m a veteran of the US Armed Forces, I’m going to have to go with: yes. For the following reasons (keep in mind, this is simply my opinion of the SAS selection and training events that I personally believe make it harder).BUD/S does not have nearly the level of emphasis on long range, fast-paced, land movements (rucking), with incredibly heavy packs and over unforgiving terrain, as SAS selection. With, and this is key, an UNKNOWN time limit, this is a tremendous mental and physical challenge since it means you better haul ass and yet you’ll still have this nagging feeling that you’re not going fast enough. The famed “Brecon Beacons” test is one such gut-check movement unique to the SAS. In 2013, 3 selectees died on this course.SAS training has the notorious Borneo jungle phase, which combines the above mentioned long range rucking, with the added discomfort of the sweltering humid heat of triple canopy jungle, swamps, insects, and poisonous reptiles, and all in a minimalist, survival training type environment, ie; hardly any food, water, or sleep.The SERE training of the SAS is also famous for the extreme psychological duress that the candidates are put through, including humiliating episodes involving female staff and disparaging comments regarding the candidates “endowment” or lack thereof.**Edit for additional clarification**The US 1stSFOD-D aka “Delta Force” was closely modeled after the SAS. Delta Force members are recruited from all over the armed forces but are drawn heavily from 75th Rangers and Green Berets. This is similar to their counterpart in JSOC: SEAL team 6. Even seasoned SEALs and other operators who try for ST6 or Delta, wash out. I’ve heard that there have been whole selection classes where no candidate was selected. These type units are truly only the very best, brightest, toughest and fittest out of already highly trained, tough, qualified special operators. So it can be argued that since US “Tier One” units modeled their selection standards after the SAS, this means that SAS soldiers are literally the absolute best most qualified candidates in the world of special operators.

There is no standard of normalcy, and I doubt that any of us will be the shining beacon of what it means to be "normal" if we have enough psychological testing. Yours truly is included into that.This means that all we have is a range of "normal", with things clearly outside this range being either the best or the worst thing you can encounter.Given the response cited in the question, which I personally love to no extent! - this is either the best woman you will ever meet or the worst one. Yes, more than one answer to one question is needed here to make a proper assessment.The point of response gives a lot of food for thought - it's either an intelligent, independent, and accommodating woman who will be great to have around, or this can turn out to be your worst nemesis. Which way will it go?Only you can tell and you need to talk more to her in order to know for sure. She's definitely interesting, that's without a doubt.On one hand, the response can come from a point of knowledge - such as she knows what she will or won't agree to, she knows what you will/won't agree to, and she has some core beliefs which she will fight till the end for.If this is the case, then it's not a woman - it's a dream. Whether you want her as your friend or a life companion, make a move now as such a person is hard to find.On the other hand, the response can come from a point of ignorance and presumptuous self-assurance and over-inflated self-worth - and this is a recipe for a disaster; if this person is plainly rude and ignorant, then you need to run away from her as fast as you can.Either way, you need to ask more questions and have more conversations with her - and yes, it took me 5 months to respond to your question - and hope is that you learn what core beliefs and convictions she has and whether or not those are vital to you (meaning if there is a disagreement, will you do that "fight until the end" or will you surrender if the point is not of extreme value to you?) - that's called compromise, and if you can achieve it and this turns out to be that intelligent and brilliant woman, do not let her go.

In my entry year to Stuyvesant (2014) only 7 black, or people who listed themselves as black, students got in. Only 5 supposedly attended. In reality there were a few more people whom you could count as “black" so that brought us up to about 9 black-presenting people in my grade, some of whom identified as mixed or Latino.It was a hard transition for me going from an all-black/Latino small unknown Catholic school to a public school known around the country. I was naíve going in — adults around me brought up their concerns about race and I truly didn't see why it would be an issue. I had not experienced real racism before. During freshman year I quickly realised it was going not going to be as easy as I thought it was.The first problem is that NYC is segregated to it's very core. The school is mostly Asian, and there's a clear dileniation of friend groups — the brown (mostly Bengali) kids, the Russian Jews, the American Whites, the Koreans, the Chinese, the mixed Asian/white kids or “halfies". These kids only hung out with people like them. There is no cohesive black group as there simply is not enough of us to guarantee a solid group. That would require that all 5 or 10 or 8 kids who happen to be black also happen to like each other. That never was the case in any of the years I witnessed, so the black kids ended up just being tokens in white friend groups. I don't think I ever saw an Asian friend group that consistently hung out with any black people. I had Asian friends individually, but when it came to being invited out or included in personal things it was an Asian-only sort of deal.During my freshman and sophomore years, I acquired a few black friends but my core group of friends was white kids. This might be offensive to some, but I truly feel that a single black kid with an all white friend group is inevitably toxic. I had to tolerate casual racial bullying from people supposed to be my friends as a requirement of being their friend. It was easy to single me out because I was the only “different” one.And yet, I was seen as not different at all. My teachers often called me by other black students names who looked nothing like me. I was assumed to want to be part of the Black Student's League, which I got guilted into half-heartedly participating because I felt as though I was being unsupportive to the community. I was constantly compared to other black students, particularly one girl who I didn't even get along with. I was accused of using Affirmative Action to somehow get into Stuyvesant.I remember during Junior year, as I stood with one of my only black friends in the hallway waiting for another class to end, a teacher coming up to us and touching our skin. Saying how beautiful and exotic we were and asking where we were from.I remember people touching my hair without my permission or asking me “how I got it that way" (curly, Afro-textured).I remember white boys constantly trying to rile me up and drag me into race debates. Ironic how they're the main ones spouting “Why does everything have to be about race?" whenever black people publicly talk about our issues and yet in real life look for the first opportunity to “play Devil's advocate" and instigate with any black person they come across.I remember the n-word being thrown around all the time.I remember that having a crush on me, or any of the black girls in my grade, was seen as fetishistic.I remember feeling painfully uncomfortable in English class where it seemed like every piece of classic American text referred to black people as “niggers/negros”. By senior year I was so exasperated with it that I started refusing to read the stories at all.I remember feeling the same in history class, when you're the only black person in the class… in every class actually…and they start talking about anything related to racism or slaves. Everyone looks at you as if you can relate somehow…I'm sure if I asked the other people from my grade they'd have stories as well.To be blatantly honest: Stuyvesant is an uncomfortable experience as a black person. You spend every day there as a “black" student instead of just another kid. All of us are equally brilliant and yet even being brilliant does not allow you the privilege of shedding your skin.That said, it gives you a glimpse of the real world as a black person, particularly a black person who floats in spaces where black people are not found.The thing is, this isn't specific to Stuyvesant. In successful spaces in general, black people are a rarity. As I got older and began working, traveling, exploring, I realised that I was almost always the only black person wherever I went. This was a stark change from my childhood growing up in the projects of Brooklyn and the Carribean community of the Bronx, where seeing a white person was the rarity.So what is our issue? Why so few black people in these spaces?First off, there's fear. Fear of change and fear of having to experience what I experienced. A lot of the comments I got from adults around me before attending Stuyvesant were “Why would I want to go to that white school?” I was presumed to have been more comfortable in a school with a high Latin/Black demographic. Growing up with my family and friends while none of them were bad people, many of them were scared of exploring the world outside their bubble. They didn't want to have to be immersed in a world where their skin color was a constant social judgement so they stayed around people like them — Do I blame them for it? Not entirely. But being fearful means that we sacrifice making a change.Second issue, why isn't black peoples “bubble" ever highly successful or unstereotypical institutions? A combination of poverty and poor education. Contrary to the belief of some, i.e. racist, people, black people aren't inherently less intelligent in anyway. What we are, though, is poor. Very poor, actually, in comparison to how rich the rich are. Poor people have less access to education, and without quality education you truly are lost. I was lucky in that I was naturally a prodigious child — I was taught to read at 2. By 5 I was reading adult level novels. By my preteens, my grandmother was asking for my help understand concepts of her masters level psychology test. My mother never helped me with my homework from the moment I started school at 5… I don't think she ever even checked my bag. I never studied and still was the #1 student all 12 years of elementary. I was the student who finished the work 5 minutes after the teacher assigned it and read a book for the rest of the class. I ended up graduating valedictorian of my middle school with 0 effort. My family always described me as being intelligent first and foremost. They saw (see) me as being a beacon of light to change the social destiny of my family.Basically, I just happened to be really smart. And that is where I got lucky. I was raised in a poor half-projects half-immigrant family and my childhood education was somewhat subpar. My family struggled with drugs and many of us has single mothers. This is the experience of many inner-city black kids.Out of all my peers, friends, acquaintances growing up, I was the only one who made it out of the neighbourhood. It truly is not that common to do so.When I applied to Stuyvesant, most of my school including the teachers had no idea what that was. The only reason my mom knew what it was, is because she attending summer school there when she was 15 and said she wanted her kid to go there because she lost the chance.Of the black families who do know what Stuyvesant is, many don't have access to the tools needed to prep for entry. I took an entire summer + falls worth of prep classes that cost $500 bi-weekly. The only reason I was able to do this is because my (white for what it's worth mentioning) stepfather paid. Most poor families don't have that privilege.The problem with Stuyvesant is not that “only 7 black kids were accepted". The problem is, in a world where normal, non-racist people know that black people are not less intelligent, why do the results of these sorts of school say otherwise? Many of us aren't given a chance to start with — between the lack of outreach in black communities from these schools and the costs, not only monetary but time wise, needed to gain entry are just unfeasible for a lot of black kids.The problem is one with the basic power structures in the USA. We do not care for our poor people, we do not care for our education system, we do not care for our minority population. SHSAT advocates claim that the test makes the playing ground level but ignore the crucial 13 years before you take the test. The test itself may be unbiased, but the work that it takes to even get in the testing room, let alone pass, is something that not every community has a fair shot at. And the people focusing on changing the SHSAT want to trim the weeds in the garden instead of pulling them out entirely.Now, can we actually make a change in the amount of outreach to black communities? Definitely. Will it happen anytime in the next few years? No, likely not. This isn't a sudden process. It's one that involves not only changing to accessibility but changing of minds, which we all know is notoriously hard to do.So for now, I wish the best to the 7 black kids who got into Stuy, and I really wish the media would stop talking about the 7 black kids who get into Stuy every single year. Seriously. making every batch of black kids out to be the Little Rock 9 does not help us. It sets us up to be singled out literally before we even walk in the door as “one of the 7". Stop making useless headlines and start actually working on change.