Personal Statements
Most national fellowship applications require a personal statement or autobiographical essay. This is a critical component of your application, and it is, in fact, the most difficult part to write. At first students don't believe this. Several weeks later, they sit shamefacedly looking at the few tepid sentences they have managed to compose about themselves, and say: "I had no idea!"
Your biggest obstacle to writing an effective personal statement is the way you think. Not what you think; how you think. When you write an essay for class, you sift through scholarly publications, journal articles and statistics; you arrange, collate, and analyze. You construct an argument with objective, verifiable data.
The personal statement comes from inside you, passionate and gutsy. Its composition is organic, a natural growth dictated by an obscure, internal logic. You don't "make it up"; instead, you listen. You "get it down."
Read on for more words of wisdom, including advice from former Scholars, Foundation representatives, and members of scholarship selection committees.
To see sample personal statements, visit individual program descriptions, such as Fulbright, Udall, Marshall, etc.
If you are applying for nationally competitive scholarships, for graduate school, or for a number of post-graduate service or employment opportunities, you have seen the vaguely phrased request; in one form or another, it comes down to "tell us something about yourself."
The Rhodes and Marshall competitions require a 1000-word personal essay: the Fulbright, a "curriculum vita." You are asked to share your "academic and other interests." A clearer charge might be: compose an essay that reveals who you are, what you care about, and what you intend to do in this life. Tell this story in a compelling manner, and do so in less than a thousand words. What's so hard about that? Simply make sense of your life (right.) But what does that mean? What will it look like?
Because personal statements are personal, there is no one type or style of writing that is set out as a model. That can be liberating; it can also be maddening. But while every personal statement is unique in style, its purpose is the same.
A personal statement is your introduction to a selection committee. It determines whether you are invited to interview; and if selected as a finalist, interview questions will be based on this material. It is the heart of your application.
A personal statement is:
- A picture.
Your personal essay should produce a picture of you as a person, a student, a potential scholarship winner, and (looking into the future) a former scholarship recipient. - An invitation.
The reader must be invited to get to know you, personally. Bridge the assumed distance of strangers. Make your reader welcome. - An indication of your priorities and judgment.
What you choose to say in your statement tells the committee what your priorities are. What you say, and how you say it, is crucial. - A story, or more precisely, your story.
Everyone has a story to tell, but we are not all natural storytellers. If you are like most people, your life lacks inherent drama. This is when serious self-reflection, conversation with friends, family, and mentors, and permission to be creative come in handy.
A personal statement is not:
- An academic paper with you as the subject.
The papers you write for class are typically designed to interpret data, reflect research, analyze events or readings--all at some distance. We are taught to eliminate the "I" from our academic writing. In a personal statement your goal is to close the distance between you and the reader. You must engage on a different, more personal level than you have been trained to in college. - A resume in narrative form.
An essay that reads like a resume of accomplishments and goals tells the reader nothing that they could not glean from the rest of the application. It reveals little about the candidate, and is a wasted opportunity. - A journal entry.
While you may well draw on experiences or observations captured in your personal journal, your essay should not read like a diary. Share what is relevant, using these experiences to give a helpful context for your story. And include only what you are comfortable sharing--be prepared to discuss at an interview what you include. - A plea or justification for the scholarship.
This is not an invitation to "make your case." Defending an assertion that you are more deserving of the scholarship than other candidates is a wasted effort-you've likely just accomplished the opposite. - Most importantly, a personal statement is authentic.
Don't make the mistake of trying to guess what the committee is looking for, and don't write what you think they want to hear. They want to know you.
So, what must you include in the personal statement? An effective personal statement will answer the following questions:
- Who am I?
- Who do I want to be?
- What kind of contribution do I want to make, and how?
- Why does it make sense for me to study at Oxford (or York, LSE, Cambridge, Sussex)?
For the Rhodes, you will want to include a proposal of study, one or two paragraphs devoted to why Oxford makes sense for you. (For the Marshall and Fulbright, your "proposed academic programme" is presented separately.) Why is this the right place and program? Is it consistent with your studies and activities to date? Draw connections.
Remember the goal: grab the readers' interest, and make them want to meet you for an interview. Get a sense of the experiences and dreams you wish to share, then examine them for a helpful means of making sense of it all. You will find your story; and if you share it honestly, you will have written a personal statement.
Finally, know that writing a personal essay is hard and will take many drafts and much reflection. Don't wait until you have it right to share it with others; their input will likely make it stronger, clearer, and tighter. Don't put it off until you have it right . . . just write!
Written by Mary Hale Tolar, Associate Director for Educational Leadership at Kansas State University.
Mary Tolar is a 1988 Truman Scholar and 1990 Rhodes Scholar; served as scholarships advisor at four institutions, including Willamette; was Deputy Executive Secretary for the Truman Scholarship Foundation, and has served on national selection committees for Truman and Rhodes Scholarships.- A picture.
"The best advice I received about writing the application was to 'freewrite.' I just sat down at the computer and filled up the page. This made it much easier to tell my story." - 2001 Truman Scholar
The easiest way to begin is simply to start writing. Don't start with the object of "writing the personal statement;" and don't worry about making it the right length-that can come later. Just write honestly and truthfully about yourself and the significant moments and people in your life.
Understand that you will write multiple drafts, and give yourself permission to write very very badly. Chances are the first, second, and even third drafts will be just awful, and that's OK. Spill it out on the page, let your sentences romp, pretend you're Faulkner and you've never heard of commas and periods. Don't worry that if tomorrow you are hit by a truck and friends read through your papers, that they will find your personal essay drafts and decide that you are a fraud. The truth is, perfection is not lovable anyway.
"I think perfectionism is based on the obsessive belief that if you run carefully enough, hitting each stepping-stone just right, you won't have to die. The truth is that you will die anyway and that a lot of people who aren't even looking at their feet are going to do a whole lot better than you, and have a lot more fun while they're doing it."
- Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life
Only after you've written some really terrible drafts will you be ready to begin sifting, organizing, and revisioning your life story.
Keep some basic principles in mind as you go:
There is no such thing as a model for a personal statement.
Samples of other applicant's personal statements can help you see how they tackled the problem of explaining themselves to the world, but your personal statement is yours alone. Only you can write it, and it must be specific to you. That doesn't mean it must be absolutely unique and the ideas you express must be totally original. It does mean that it must be honest, sincere, and convey something about your ideas, your beliefs, and your experiences that lists of activities and the praise of recommenders cannot. Capture the passion you feel, and don't worry about whether the committee has heard it before.
Everybody has a story.
Maybe you didn't endure a traumatic childhood, or spend a year in Bosnia working with refugees, but you have had experiences that are interesting and have been formative to your development as a person and a scholar. Don't worry about whose stories are most important or most interesting to committees--just tell yours.
What's your line? Telling your story chronologically may help you to remember key moments and turning points, but there are more compelling narrative techniques. What are the threads that tie together the separate pieces of your life? What questions about the world do you find yourself consistently attempting to explore? Was there a moment where you just knew you had discovered what you want to do next?
Think strategically.
You can't reveal everything about yourself in 1000 words, so you must decide what personal characteristics to emphasize in your statement. What are the most important life experiences, service activities, values, and ambitions that define who you are? What do you most want a committee to know about you?Questions to ask yourself:
- What's unusual, special, and distinctive about me? What events, people, or family history have shaped and influenced me? What would help the committee better understand me?
- When did I first become interested in my field of study? What have I learned since then? What have I learned about myself?
- What drives me, motivates me--in my field of study, my projected career, my life? What makes me tick?
Find tips and excellent writing advice on personal statements in general, and on the Truman application in particular.
Adapted from material authored by
Jane Curlin, Program Manager
Morris K. Udall FoundationRowing is God's sport. The crisp early morning air, mist-shrouded hills, shells gliding silently on the glassy surface, oars slicing in unison. For casual observers, time slows and they become immersed in art. An ardent rower, I experience this beauty, but I also know that strength, courage and endurance command the shell, as in life.
Silence. White knuckles and callused palms suffocate the oar. In anticipation, my breathing, even my pumping heart stops. Then the horn sounds. Adrenaline rips through my torso. I pull, and keep pulling, sinews stretched to breaking, every muscle screaming to quit. Concentrating only on the starting dock, I surge forward relentlessly. That dock is my beacon.
I left home at sixteen. My single mother's drinking had become intolerable. M_____, my twin, was pregnant; her drug-addict boyfriend moved in. The starting horn had sounded.
High school races by when you have to study, make a living, do chores, play guitar in a band, and still maintain a social life. But the independence gave me strength. There were some ironies. I had no curfew, but there wasn't much to do in Artesia, New Mexico. As my own guardian, I could sign sick slips and grade reports, and attend PTA events. I earned two varsity letters, the maximum AP credits, and enough wages to escape debt.
Disregarding warnings that "fifty cents and a humanities degree could only buy a cup of coffee," I selected political science and economics, impelled by a seemingly instinctive curiosity to study the two edifices of our society. Taking to reading like breathing, I devoured Marx, Mill, Keynes, and Smith, oblivious to my roommate's pleadings to "chill out-put the books down."
But it wasn't all studies. I discovered rowing. Four hours of daily practice: jogging, racing, lifting weights. The intense winter regimen: push-ups in the snow, running stadium steps, battling the ergonometer. Still, it was energizing, incredibly satisfying. Balancing classes and training, however, required innovation-the coxswain would read my lecture notes aloud while I trained. My grades were good and, not surprisingly, there was no "freshman fifteen" for me.
I became seduced by legal theory and its axiomatic system. How constitutional law is foundational. How statutory law governs every facet of our lives: births, deaths, taxes. How criminal law maintains order. How the court is objective and politically insulated, the ideal forum for upholding controversial rights and effecting change.
As I matured, I realized it wasn't that simple. I was entranced by the originalist and non-interpretivist debates. Delving into the contentious theories of feminist jurisprudence, I was often bemused, as when I stumbled upon Katherine MacKinnon's characterization of sex as rape. I struggled with the question: is law truth or merely ideology? Realists like Jerome Frank exposed judicial subjectivity-the (perceived) objectivity provides credibility, but the process is inherently political. I appreciated the sociological view of the judiciary, but recognized that the legislature is best situated to implement policy.
For two years, I was entirely absorbed, almost intoxicated. Suddenly, my beacon flashed. It was a call from M_____. "The police are taking Britney away," she cried. M_____'s boyfriend had complained she was a user.
I drove all night. The next morning, I earnestly discussed M_____'s case with her court-appointed attorney. He just shook his head. Later, as we approached the judge, he asked M_____, "What did you say your name was?" She didn't stand a chance.
That courtroom experience transformed me into an advocate for social justice. I had removed myself from M_____'s life and plunged into the law; now the dualities had converged.
I resolved to work to achieve outcomes that were pragmatic, yet personal. Declining a clerkship at a posh Charleston law firm, I opted for the Neighborhood Legal Clinic where I could help Edna, unable to read her divorce papers; Mrs. Gray, bilked of her insurance benefits; and Maria with her children, who desperately needed child support. Interning at the Probation Office, I investigated criminal histories and drafted sentencing recommendations, but I created my own opportunities, volunteering counseling services to convicts.
Drawn to community activism, I spearheaded a housing renovation project and wrote a proposal for affordable financial services for Tulsa's low-income population. Now with AmeriCorps, I am developing curricula to foster small business development in low-income communities, and setting mechanisms for coordinating these efforts nationwide, so that populations can pull themselves up by their bootstraps.
I want to fight poverty and social inequity on a large scale. My plans include obtaining a law degree with a concentration in public interest law, gaining broad policy experience as a legislative advisor and eventually leading my own anti-poverty agency. But I dream of running for elected office, and winning-politics has the power to mobilize individuals, communities and nations.
But who am I to dream such things? Why will I succeed? Because I am passionate? Maybe. Because I live my life like I row? Possibly. The real reason is that there will always be a part of me, M_____, cleaved from the same flesh, for whom poverty is a daily struggle. M_____ is my beacon. I see her in the eyes of every person I try to help.