Personal Statement Feedback

[natmat]

Hi! I would really appreciate feedback on my personal statement. I know it needs editing but I just want to make sure it is in the right direction. Feel free to quote and do whatever is necessary and all criticism is welcomed. Thanks in advance!

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When I was little, my mother would tell these stories about her childhood in Costa Rica. With her words, she would repaint her past with such vividness. She would bring people that were long gone back through impressions and places that were miles away would appear in our living room, all through her stories. Storytelling came easy to my mother and perhaps that is why I longed to be a storyteller too.

I wrote my first story when I was eight. The story was a byproduct of being exposed to many fairy tales growing up, it was a fantastical tale about a unicorn who long to be a princess and a prince who was freaked out about a talking unicorn. This was the first of many stories to be written. My characters were people that I could be with and often times, I would get lost in their worlds for hours. Words flowed like a river, bring life to countless characters through stories. I was a storyteller.

Then one day, near the end of high school, the river went dry and the stories just stopped.

There was no explanation for it, the creative ideas had just run out. Maybe there was just a dam, blocking any ideas from coming. I fought with the words, refusing to just give up on storytelling but every single idea seemed ridiculous. No longer were stories my safe haven, now those worlds became a place I refused to stay in. Perhaps I was not meant to be a storyteller.

My mother, on the other hand, continued telling stories. These tales were of her co-workers, stories about their struggles as undocumented workers. Not only was she a storyteller, but she was also a character in their tales, translating for them when they needed help, accompanying them to doctor’s visits or school visits just to serve as a translator.

Soon, I too would be a part of their stories as I began to help my mother translate certain documents. Through these documents I began to learn their stories, court orders and letters from lawyers spelled out turbulent lives, rattled by their immigration status. I would translate documents, typing out a Spanish version for reference. Sometimes, I would write letters in English for them when a landlord, teacher or doctor needed an explanation.

The more time I spent becoming part of their stories, the more I realized I enjoyed telling their stories. I liked digging through dense documents and breaking it down, finding the perfect words in Spanish to explain. I liked writing letters and carefully choosing my words to express the ideal sentiment for the occasion. Slowly, the mental dam broke and my passion for storytelling came back in the form of assisting others to speak of their experiences.

Stories flow through life like an untapped reservoir and to reach them, all you have to do is know how to siphon them but it is not always easy. Through my experiences, I learned that some stories are underground and society acts as if that is where they belonged. During my time at the Office of the Public Defender, I tapped into some of these stories such as the one of a man younger than I sitting in an orange jump suit at the county jail. When I handed him the forms to fill out for the legal services, he looked up at the investigator and I with eyes that carried confusion. He told us that he could not read. I read and explained the form to him, realizing that these were the stories that were rarely heard.

Listening to all these stories reignited my passion for stories, only this time the stories were different. I want to dedicate my life to recreating stories of others, painting every single detail. Everyone deserves a chance to have their story told and to have a chance to understand their circumstances in order to continue developing their life. No story should be neglected based on circumstances and I want to help those who struggle to bring their stories to light. Often, it is regarding matters of law where certain people have their experience buried under unfair prejudice. Sometimes, people are ensnared by complicated concepts and their limitations to understand these concepts leading to their stories to be lost or distorted. I want to explain complicated issues and jargon to a level where it is accessible to all so that no one is ever exempted from having their story told.

I know I am meant to be a storyteller.

[Nikki Siclunov]

When I was little, my mother would tell these stories about her childhood in Costa Rica. With her words, she would repaint her past with such vividness. She would bring people that were long gone back through impressions and places that were miles away would appear in our living room, all through her stories. Storytelling came easy to my mother and perhaps that is why I longed to be a storyteller too.

I wrote my first story when I was eight. The story was a byproduct of being exposed to many fairy tales growing up, it was a fantastical tale about a unicorn who long to be a princess and a prince who was freaked out about a talking unicorn. This was the first of many stories to be written. My characters were people that I could be with and often times, I would get lost in their worlds for hours. Words flowed like a river, bring life to countless characters through stories. I was a storyteller.

Then one day, near the end of high school, the river went dry and the stories just stopped.

There was no explanation for it, the creative ideas had just run out. Maybe there was just a dam, blocking any ideas from coming. I fought with the words, refusing to just give up on storytelling but every single idea seemed ridiculous. No longer were stories my safe haven, now those worlds became a place I refused to stay in. Perhaps I was not meant to be a storyteller.

My mother, on the other hand, continued telling stories. These tales were of her co-workers, stories about their struggles as undocumented workers. Not only was she a storyteller, but she was also a character in their tales, translating for them when they needed help, accompanying them to doctor’s visits or school visits just to serve as a translator.

Soon, I too would be a part of their stories as I began to help my mother translate certain documents. Through these documents I began to learn their stories, court orders and letters from lawyers spelled out turbulent lives, rattled by their immigration status. I would translate documents, typing out a Spanish version for reference. Sometimes, I would write letters in English for them when a landlord, teacher or doctor needed an explanation.

The more time I spent becoming part of their stories, the more I realized I enjoyed telling their stories. I liked digging through dense documents and breaking it down, finding the perfect words in Spanish to explain. I liked writing letters and carefully choosing my words to express the ideal sentiment for the occasion. Slowly, the mental dam broke and my passion for storytelling came back in the form of assisting others to speak of their experiences.

Stories flow through life like an untapped reservoir and to reach them, all you have to do is know how to siphon them but it is not always easy. Through my experiences, I learned that some stories are underground and society acts as if that is where they belonged. During my time at the Office of the Public Defender, I tapped into some of these stories such as the one of a man younger than I sitting in an orange jump suit at the county jail. When I handed him the forms to fill out for the legal services, he looked up at the investigator and I with eyes that carried confusion. He told us that he could not read. I read and explained the form to him, realizing that these were the stories that were rarely heard.

Listening to all these stories reignited my passion for stories, only this time the stories were different. I want to dedicate my life to recreating stories of others, painting every single detail. Everyone deserves a chance to have their story told and to have a chance to understand their circumstances in order to continue developing their life. No story should be neglected based on circumstances and I want to help those who struggle to bring their stories to light. Often, it is regarding matters of law where certain people have their experience buried under unfair prejudice. Sometimes, people are ensnared by complicated concepts and their limitations to understand these concepts leading to their stories to be lost or distorted. I want to explain complicated issues and jargon to a level where it is accessible to all so that no one is ever exempted from having their story told.

I know I am meant to be a storyteller.

Hi natmat,

Thanks for posting your statement. I enjoyed reading it!

You do an adequate job connecting your passion for storytelling to your decision to study law, as the two have indeed quite a lot in common. However, I am afraid your focus on storytelling has hijacked the main point of your statement. Indeed, your repeat the word "story" (and its various iterations - stories, storytelling, etc.) 36 times, to the point where I am unsure if you're applying to law school or the Iowa Writers Workshop

Furthermore, as a self-described storyteller, you have allowed yourself to make too many errors in grammar, punctuation, syntax, and style. You have a tendency to write run-on sentences and construct improperly subordinated clauses. There is an excessive use of cliches and mixed metaphors. I understand this is only a draft, but if storytelling is your passion, this sets the bar quite high. Consequently, you need to be extra careful when polishing your statement.

I was particularly troubled by the following:

Words flowed like a river, bring life to countless characters through stories. I was a storyteller.

You meant to use the gerund form, "bringing." Also, "words flowed like a river" is a cliche. Revise.

My mother, on the other hand, continued telling stories. These tales were of her co-workers, stories about their struggles as undocumented workers. Not only was she a storyteller, but she was also a character in their tales, translating for them when they needed help, accompanying them to doctor’s visits or school visits just to serve as a translator.

You need to orient the reader here. What job did your mother hold at the time? In what capacity was she telling stories about her co-workers, and to whom? I was a bit confused by this paragraph. Was she a translator, a public servant, a public defender, a nurse? What was her relationship to the undocumented immigrants she was working with?

The more time I spent becoming part of their stories, the more I realized I enjoyed telling their stories. I liked digging through dense documents and breaking it down, finding the perfect words in Spanish to explain. I liked writing letters and carefully choosing my words to express the ideal sentiment for the occasion. Slowly, the mental dam broke and my passion for storytelling came back in the form of assisting others to speak of their experiences.

First, whose stories were you translating, and for what purpose? How did the act of translation make you "part of their stories"? Did they write about you? Also, to whom were you helping them tell their stories? As you can tell, I am lost. I understand you dealt with a lot of legal documents and helped others understand what they mean, but I am not sure about the context of (let alone the motivations behind) your actions. You absolutely need to clarify this.

Stories flow through life like an untapped reservoir and to reach them, all you have to do is know how to siphon them but it is not always easy.

This run-on sentence contains a mixed metaphor and a cliche. Revise.

Through my experiences, I learned that some stories are underground and society acts as if that is where they belonged.

Putting aside the verb tense agreement error, this statement is problematic for a number of reasons. Your argument is that certain stories are "underground" (a term you may want to re-think), and that you have given them a new voice. In reality, you describe someone who could not read and needed your help understanding a legal document. How does this example illustrate an "underground story," and why would society want to keep it that way? Just because the man you helped was illiterate doesn't make his story "rarely heard," and even if it does, I am unsure how you gave it a new voice. (It's entirely possible that you did, but you need to clarify.)

Everyone deserves a chance to have their story told and to have a chance to understand their circumstances in order to continue developing their life. No story should be neglected based on circumstances and I want to help those who struggle to bring their stories to light.

Putting aside the awkward phrasing ("developing their life"), or the run-on syntax, your concluding paragraph makes it sound as if you want to be a journalist, not a lawyer. Which brings me back to my original point: I am not convinced you're applying to law school.

Please don't take this personally - your experiences are quite unique, and if you give them the right "spin" they can definitely work in this context, and serve the right purpose. You just need to give it another try.

Lastly, check out a number of really awesome resources that we have available that elaborate on the personal statement process and would likely prove useful for you, and anyone else reading this, to consider:

1. A ten-part blog series about all things personal statement.

2. Another blog post about Personal Statements.

3. Some essay examples for potential inspiration.

4. And finally, some advice from Dave Killoran himself on personal statements.

Good luck!

[natmat]

Thanks Nikki! Your words made me realize that perhaps this is not the best presentation for my experiences so I'm going to try to talk about them from a different perspective!