Molly and Qian,
Credit is due. Your practicality is outweighed only by your generosity of spirit and your encouragement. I came looking for Socrates and I got Barnabas along in the deal!
It would never have occurred to me to request to opt out of the test. I'm skeptical, frankly, not so much of the department's goodwill, but of my academic record, given its vintage. My Ukrainian grad work, per se, is, I've learned, dismissed as irrelevant. Interestingly and conversely, the recommendations of those writers , publishers, and academics with whom I work/study here are considered to be hugely relevant. Go figure.
It's hard to see them agreeing to an opt out, but - for all the reasons you mention - it still might not hurt to ask. This is a bit of spiritual conundrum for me. When I was active in the parish, it was a challenge to carry a loving spirit and an open mind into the confessional some days: to discard the politics, the potential manipulations and any thoughts that might abridge humility when dealing with the penitent. That's prologue to the reality that, while I want to give the committee the opportunity to do the loving thing, I realize that they are still just a committee. They have policies. They undoubtedly have state/federally-mandated admittance protocols. Someone might come to the task of ticking the boxes on my application fresh from a jawthrusting argument with a husband, landlord, or department head. They might ordinarily be favorably disposed toward an older guy who asks "cut me a break here", or they might hold onto that little nugget. When my test comes through and my inability to compete with the kid from India, Taiwan, or Tulsa is made painfully, quantifiably, evident...well, then, I can imagine "isn't this the guy who wanted to opt out of the GRE? Aha!" shaping the narrative.
The math is the math is the math. I've already got my hands on the "Princeton" and "Barron" guides, and Qian, you are spot on with your comments about ego. The manuals read like something written by a 25-year-old IT-specializing grad student. Still, I begin working through it, my dentures (ok, I don't wear dentures), at a slow grind, thoughts of violence toward whippersnappers and dread for the future of the planet flooding my brain pan. And I discover in the process that I can learn things from people who grasp, and likely use, algebra far better and more than I ever will. I feel like a kid again just going through the mechanics of "solving for x". I suppose the only question remaining is to uncover an appropriate strategy for carrying along into the testing room the inchoative stages of calm I'm experiencing now at the feet of my "tutors". I've also located the "Proofs Without Words" I&II, and an Erdos collection of essays, Molly, though I may save the latter until after the test. When I'm feeling smug.
It also seems like the "assuring [me] informally" process has already begun. Russian, Ukrainian, and Slovak fluency count for something, and I was advised to lean heavily on these in my statement of purpose. The woman I'm corresponding with even feels comfortable enough at this point to make small, dry jokes.
My dread diminishes. An friend from the culture sphere told me last evening that I'm not "scrunching" my forehead so much. She'd just picked up the word 'scrunch' and was excited to use it.
Cognizant of how much I sound like a ballplayer giving an interview after a big game, I'm no master of Greek. I am glad to be in the stable of those who try to pull that plow through the field on occasion. What I know is that I've had some outstanding teachers. And encouragers. I'm grateful to you.
So, old dog, old tricks training has begun in earnest. I'll try to share any insight I gather, re materials, strategies, etc., as I go along. The fear is still there, but the will is waking up.
peace,
Il'ja