Personal Statement feedback

[kyleenloe]

Hey guys! I've been kicking around with revisions of my PS for a few days now and I'd appreciate your feedback. In addition to any syntax/grammatical suggestions, I'm wondering if the banana bit loses a bit of luster towards the end or if its just plain cheesy. Thanks!

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¶ I felt the South Pacific sun warm my skin as I stood inside of a grocery store in Kansas. Looking down at the waning crescent in my palm, the distinct odor of burning sugarcane filled my nostrils. As I pushed my cart towards the cashier, I heard the sound of small sandals pattering against crumbling asphalt. I chose paper and loaded the groceries into the backseat of my snow-covered sedan. As a student, I’d grab a banana from the cafeteria every morning before class. As a teacher, I’d pick one off the tree in my host mom’s yard before the mile long walk to town. Naturally, when I woke up the next morning, I picked the most beautifully ripe, dandelion-colored one from the bunch, peeled it, and took a bite. All the senses I’d felt in the store the previous day were felt again, tenfold. I had to spit it out. They say smell is the strongest sense tied to memory, I disagree. For me, it’s taste. It wasn't until I returned home from the South Pacific island of Fiji that I realized how a piece of fruit could evoke such an emotive response in me. Fortunately, this wasn’t the only realization I left the island with.

¶ I spent nearly four months as an education volunteer in Lautoka, the second largest city on the south island of Viti Levu. As a third world country laden with a history of political corruption, Fiji lacked educational resources for its citizens. The country was in the midst its first democratic election in twenty seven years; more than a lifetime for a large percentage of voters. English is a second language for most Fijians. However, it is the common tongue between the two largest ethnic groups, indigenous Fijians at 57% and Indo-Fijians at 38%. Thus, all political ads and campaign information was delivered to the public in English. As a westerner with a bachelors degree in legal studies and political science, part of my job was to decipher any difficult language or ideas and present it to citizens in a concise, understandable manner. The experience was exactly as you’d might expect: enriching and challenging, with many thrilling experiences helping citizens. Everyday was a learning experience, but there was one aspect of my trip in particular that stuck out and it wasn't until I was back home that I could really reflect on what it meant to me.

¶ Each day at the Lautoka City Civic Center, dozens of citizens would bring me newspaper clippings with circled phrases and paragraphs looking for clarification. I assumed I’d be well prepared for this with my unique education, but I was wrong. I worked tirelessly to help them distinguish legislative differences between candidates, but many of the same people would return with similar questions that they had before. Frustrated with my failures, I came to the realization that I had to change my approach. Merely having the education was not enough, it was the practical application of things I’d learned in school that would ultimately make the difference.

¶ In the weeks that followed, instead of addressing them by the dozens in an open forum, I created an appointment system where citizens could sign up for a specific time slot. This allowed me to meet with smaller groups of three to four. The difference was palpable. The intimate setting seemed to make everyone more at ease, myself included. I started to remember names and began to recognize the citizens as individuals, rather than nameless faces in a crowd. As a result, questions became more specific. Likewise, I was able to tailor my responses to fit the individual. It was in these smaller groups that I found a sense of fulfillment I’d never felt before. Nicknamed “Sugar City,” Lautoka is home to the island’s largest sugar mill. Far and away the city’s largest employer, the mill employs hundreds of blue-collar men. They ranged in age, ethnicity, and political views, but had a bond shared by all Fijians: a devout love for rugby. As a former college athlete, this is where I found my platform. Comrade Frank Bainimarama, leader of the FijiFirst Party, was a lock. Strong and hard-nosed, locks are forwards that perform the fundamentally routine aspects of a match like engaging in scrum, setting formations, and rucking. Bainimarama was the leader of the coup that had been in control since 2006. If tough and conservative, like a lock, was what they wanted in a prime minister he was their man. Conversely, Ro Kepa, leader of the Social Democratic Liberal Party, was a back. Elusive and athletic, backs move the ball downfield, take risks, and search out weaknesses in the defense. Progressive and forward thinking, Kepa wanted to focus on technology and reform the conservative agenda. Looking first through an academic lens, then converting subjectively complex ideas and transforming them into something citizens could absorb was truly gratifying. I could only draw these analogies with a full understanding of the candidates and their policies. During my undergraduate years I studied all aspects of the political system, but I was yet to use what I’d learned to have a tangible impact on someone else. Now here I was, 6,000 miles from home, using things I'd learned in school to have direct impact in the lives of others.

¶ I assumed that particular sense of fulfillment couldn’t possibly be found again as I traveled back across the Pacific Ocean. Again, I was wrong. By working as a legal assistant alongside a team of exceptional attorneys during my time at Constangy, I was able to witness, albeit secondhand, that same sense of fulfillment. I was fortunate enough to be able to sit in on client meetings and deposition preparations, as well as write correspondence to clients and opposing counsel on behalf of the attorneys. To witness these lawyers analyze a problem, formulate a solution, and communicate that solution to their client in a concise and understandable manner reminded me of my time spent in Fiji.

¶ While these attorneys were experts of the law, I found it wasn’t only their legal education that allowed them be successful, but rather, the practical application of things they’d learned in law school that ultimately made the difference. This is why I choose the University of (X), not only to receive an outstanding legal education, but to also garner a hands-on, fulfilling, and practical approach to the study of law. Without the relentless South Pacific sun beating down as I walked to the city, without the distinct smell of sugarcane in the air, without the pattering sound of school children running down the street to chat with me, and most importantly, without the unique challenge of applying things I've learned to solve problems, that banana didn't taste right. I’m confident that with admission into (X), bananas will once again become a staple of my diet.

[Nikki Siclunov]

¶ I felt the South Pacific sun warm my skin as I stood inside of a grocery store in Kansas. Looking down at the waning crescent in my palm, the distinct odor of burning sugarcane filled my nostrils. As I pushed my cart towards the cashier, I heard the sound of small sandals pattering against crumbling asphalt. I chose paper and loaded the groceries into the backseat of my snow-covered sedan. As a student, I’d grab a banana from the cafeteria every morning before class. As a teacher, I’d pick one off the tree in my host mom’s yard before the mile long walk to town. Naturally, when I woke up the next morning, I picked the most beautifully ripe, dandelion-colored one from the bunch, peeled it, and took a bite. All the senses I’d felt in the store the previous day were felt again, tenfold. I had to spit it out. They say smell is the strongest sense tied to memory, I disagree. For me, it’s taste. It wasn't until I returned home from the South Pacific island of Fiji that I realized how a piece of fruit could evoke such an emotive response in me. Fortunately, this wasn’t the only realization I left the island with.

¶ I spent nearly four months as an education volunteer in Lautoka, the second largest city on the south island of Viti Levu. As a third world country laden with a history of political corruption, Fiji lacked educational resources for its citizens. The country was in the midst its first democratic election in twenty seven years; more than a lifetime for a large percentage of voters. English is a second language for most Fijians. However, it is the common tongue between the two largest ethnic groups, indigenous Fijians at 57% and Indo-Fijians at 38%. Thus, all political ads and campaign information was delivered to the public in English. As a westerner with a bachelors degree in legal studies and political science, part of my job was to decipher any difficult language or ideas and present it to citizens in a concise, understandable manner. The experience was exactly as you’d might expect: enriching and challenging, with many thrilling experiences helping citizens. Everyday was a learning experience, but there was one aspect of my trip in particular that stuck out and it wasn't until I was back home that I could really reflect on what it meant to me.

¶ Each day at the Lautoka City Civic Center, dozens of citizens would bring me newspaper clippings with circled phrases and paragraphs looking for clarification. I assumed I’d be well prepared for this with my unique education, but I was wrong. I worked tirelessly to help them distinguish legislative differences between candidates, but many of the same people would return with similar questions that they had before. Frustrated with my failures, I came to the realization that I had to change my approach. Merely having the education was not enough, it was the practical application of things I’d learned in school that would ultimately make the difference.

¶ In the weeks that followed, instead of addressing them by the dozens in an open forum, I created an appointment system where citizens could sign up for a specific time slot. This allowed me to meet with smaller groups of three to four. The difference was palpable. The intimate setting seemed to make everyone more at ease, myself included. I started to remember names and began to recognize the citizens as individuals, rather than nameless faces in a crowd. As a result, questions became more specific. Likewise, I was able to tailor my responses to fit the individual. It was in these smaller groups that I found a sense of fulfillment I’d never felt before. Nicknamed “Sugar City,” Lautoka is home to the island’s largest sugar mill. Far and away the city’s largest employer, the mill employs hundreds of blue-collar men. They ranged in age, ethnicity, and political views, but had a bond shared by all Fijians: a devout love for rugby. As a former college athlete, this is where I found my platform. Comrade Frank Bainimarama, leader of the FijiFirst Party, was a lock. Strong and hard-nosed, locks are forwards that perform the fundamentally routine aspects of a match like engaging in scrum, setting formations, and rucking. Bainimarama was the leader of the coup that had been in control since 2006. If tough and conservative, like a lock, was what they wanted in a prime minister he was their man. Conversely, Ro Kepa, leader of the Social Democratic Liberal Party, was a back. Elusive and athletic, backs move the ball downfield, take risks, and search out weaknesses in the defense. Progressive and forward thinking, Kepa wanted to focus on technology and reform the conservative agenda. Looking first through an academic lens, then converting subjectively complex ideas and transforming them into something citizens could absorb was truly gratifying. I could only draw these analogies with a full understanding of the candidates and their policies. During my undergraduate years I studied all aspects of the political system, but I was yet to use what I’d learned to have a tangible impact on someone else. Now here I was, 6,000 miles from home, using things I'd learned in school to have direct impact in the lives of others.

¶ I assumed that particular sense of fulfillment couldn’t possibly be found again as I traveled back across the Pacific Ocean. Again, I was wrong. By working as a legal assistant alongside a team of exceptional attorneys during my time at Constangy, I was able to witness, albeit secondhand, that same sense of fulfillment. I was fortunate enough to be able to sit in on client meetings and deposition preparations, as well as write correspondence to clients and opposing counsel on behalf of the attorneys. To witness these lawyers analyze a problem, formulate a solution, and communicate that solution to their client in a concise and understandable manner reminded me of my time spent in Fiji.

¶ While these attorneys were experts of the law, I found it wasn’t only their legal education that allowed them be successful, but rather, the practical application of things they’d learned in law school that ultimately made the difference. This is why I choose the University of (X), not only to receive an outstanding legal education, but to also garner a hands-on, fulfilling, and practical approach to the study of law. Without the relentless South Pacific sun beating down as I walked to the city, without the distinct smell of sugarcane in the air, without the pattering sound of school children running down the street to chat with me, and most importantly, without the unique challenge of applying things I've learned to solve problems, that banana didn't taste right. I’m confident that with admission into (X), bananas will once again become a staple of my diet.

Hi kyleenloe,

Thanks for posting your personal statement for review. I really enjoyed reading it - it's a unique story that resonates with the reader and clearly shows important personal qualities such as creativity, entrepreneurship, and drive.

That said, I think you need to shorten it a bit, especially the fourth paragraph. I see the point you're making there, but it can be done more succinctly.

Also, while the first paragraph paints a vivid picture, I was a bit confused by it. You need to orient the reader better: are you recalling an experience you had in Fiji as a teacher, and comparing it to a previous experience you had as a student? If so, you can say,

As a student in [LOCATION] [X] years ago, I’d grab a banana from the cafeteria every morning before class. Today, as a teacher in [SIMILAR LOCATION?], I'd pick one off the tree in my host mom's yard...

Last, given the length of your statement (and the confusion I felt reading the first paragraph), I had completely forgotten about the banana story by the time I finished reading it. So, the last few sentences caught me by surprise. (I thought... wait, what? You want to eat bananas in law school? Then it clicked... but it took awhile). Maybe it's just me, but that didn't work for me. I know what you're trying to do, but remember - admissions officers barely spend more than 2 minutes reading each statement. The parallel between the first and the last paragraphs is tenuous at best, and I think it does more harm than good.

Last, consider varying your style and language a bit. Quite a few sentences contain the construction "As a ...., I did XYZ." This is a minor gripe, but it can improve the overall flow if you vary it up a bit.

Overall, I did like your statement. If you make the above-mentioned changes, it will be even stronger.

Good luck!

[kyleenloe]

Thanks Nikki! I was in your December prep course online (8pt increase) so thanks for that too You're the man. Below is a further revised copy with your recommendations implemented. I'd be super grateful for another gander.

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I imagined the South Pacific sun warming my skin as I stood inside of a grocery store in Kansas. Looking down at the waning crescent in my palm, the distinct odor of burning sugarcane filled my nostrils. When I pushed my shopping cart toward the cashier to pay for my groceries, I could almost hear the sound of small sandals pattering against crumbling asphalt behind me. As a teacher in Fiji, I’d pick a banana off of the tree in my host mother’s yard to eat for breakfast on my walk to town. As a student at The Ohio State University, I’d grab one from the cafeteria every morning before class. Naturally, when I woke up the next morning, I picked the most perfectly ripe, dandelion-colored banana from the bunch on my kitchen counter, peeled it, and took a bite. All of the senses I’d felt in the store were felt again tenfold until I took that bite—the taste was so strange that I had to spit it out. They say smell is the strongest sense tied to memory, but I disagree. For me, it’s taste. It wasn't until I returned home from the South Pacific island of Fiji that I realized a piece of fruit could evoke such an emotive response in me. Fortunately, this wasn’t the only realization that I left the island with.

I spent nearly four months as an educational volunteer for Projects Abroad in Lautoka, the second largest city on the south island of Viti Levu. As a third world country laden with a history of political corruption, Fiji lacked educational resources for its citizens. The country was in the midst of its first truly democratic election in 27 years—more than a lifetime for a large percentage of voters. English is a second language for most Fijians; however, it’s the common tongue between the two largest ethnic groups on the island: indigenous Fijians at 57% and Indo-Fijians at 38%. Thus, all political ads and campaign information was delivered to the public in English. As a westerner with a bachelor’s degree in legal studies and political science, part of my job was to decipher any difficult language or ideas and present it to citizens in a concise, understandable fashion. The experience was exactly as you’d might expect: enriching and challenging, with many thrilling experiences helping citizens. Every day was a learning experience, but there was one aspect of my trip in particular that stood out, and it wasn't until I was back home that I could really reflect on what it meant to me.

Each day at the Lautoka City Civic Center, dozens of citizens would bring me newspaper clippings with circled phrases and paragraphs looking for clarification. I assumed I’d be prepared for this with my education, but I was wrong. I worked hard to help them distinguish legislative discrepancies between candidates, but many of the same people would return with similar questions as the ones that they had had before. Frustrated with my failures, I came to realize that I needed to change my approach. My education alone was not enough; it was the practical application of the knowledge I’d learned in school that would ultimately make the difference. In the weeks that followed, instead of addressing citizens by the dozens in an open forum setting, I created an appointment system where they could sign up for a specific time slot. My days became longer, but this system allowed me to meet with much smaller groups. The effects were palpable. The intimate setting made everyone more at ease, myself included. I started to remember names, and began to recognize the citizens as individuals, rather than nameless faces in a crowd. As a result, questions became more specific, and I was able to tailor my responses to fit each individual person. It was in these smaller groups that I found a particular sense of fulfillment I’d never felt before. 

Nicknamed “Sugar City,” Lautoka is home to the island’s largest sugar mill. Far and away the city’s largest employer, the mill employs hundreds of blue-collar men. They ranged in age, ethnicity, and political views, but had a bond shared by all Fijians: a devout love for rugby. I arrived a layman to the sport but left an expert. As a former college athlete, this is where I found my platform. Comrade Frank Bainimarama, leader of the FijiFirst Party, was a lock. Strong and hard-nosed, locks are forwards that do the fundamentally basic moves in a match like engaging in scrum, setting formations, and rucking. Bainimarama was the leader of the coup that had been in control since 2006. If tough and conservative, much like a lock, was what they wanted in a prime minister, he was their man. Conversely, Ro Kepa, leader of the Social Democratic Liberal Party, was a back. Elusive and aggressive, backs move the ball downfield, take risks, and search out weaknesses in the defense. Progressive and forward thinking, Kepa wanted to focus on technology and reform the conservative agenda. Looking first through an academic lens, then converting subjectively complex ideas and translating them into something citizens could absorb was a gratifying experience. I could only draw these analogies with a full understanding of the candidates and their policies. During my undergraduate years I studied all aspects of the political system, but I had yet to use what I’d learned to have a direct impact on someone else. Now, here I was, six thousand miles from home, using knowledge I'd learned in school to have real impact on the lives of others. 

I assumed that that particular sense of fulfillment couldn’t possibly be found again as I traveled back across the Pacific Ocean. I was wrong. By working as a legal assistant for a team of exceptional attorneys during my time at Constangy, I was able to find, albeit secondhand, that same sense of fulfillment. I was fortunate enough to sit in on client meetings and deposition preparations, as well as write correspondence to clients and opposing counsel on behalf of the attorneys. To witness these lawyers analyze problems, formulate solutions, and communicate those solutions to their clients in a concise and understandable fashion reminded me of my time spent in Fiji. 

While these attorneys were experts of the law, I found it wasn’t only their legal education that allowed them to be successful, but rather the practical application of concepts they’d learned in law school that ultimately made the difference. This is why I choose the University of (X)—not only to receive an outstanding legal education, but to garner a hands-on, fulfilling, and practical approach to the study of law.