Graduate School Statements 101 [b][b]Lesson Two: Specific Themes and Questions [b][b]Part of what makes the personal statement so difficult is that you need to [b]do so much in one essay. Unlike the college application essay where your [b]motivation is unquestioned and your goals can remain undefined, writing a [b]personal statement for admission to graduate school requires that you [b]incorporate multiple themes in one composition. Needless to say, this can [b]be tricky. [b]There are three basic themes for you to consider: [b]1. Why you want to study your field / attend this graduate school. [b]2. What makes you unique, different, or exceptional. [b]3. Why you are qualified. [b]You might focus on only one theme or try to incorporate all three. No [b]matter how you choose to do it, remember that if your essay doesn't [b]ultimately express your motivation for attending graduate school and pose [b]an argument for why you should be accepted, you've missed the mark. [b]In this section you will also find Question-Specific strategies for [b]specific essay topics. If you face a specific question not listed here, be [b]sure to check out our College Admissions Essay Help Course or our Business [b]School Admissions Essay Help Course for question-specific strategies on [b]over 20 different common questions. Many graduate schools have some short [b]answer questions that are thoroughly explored in other sections of this [b]site. [b]1. Why Graduate School? [b]The secret to doing this theme well is to show why you want to study your [b]field. Don't just say it and expect it to stand on its own. Admissions [b]officers want believable details from your life that demonstrate your [b]desire and make it real to them. [b]One secret to avoiding the here-we-go-again reaction is to keep an eye on [b]your first line. Starting with "I've wanted to be a physicist since…" [b]makes admissions officers cringe. Yes, we know it's an easy line to fall [b]back on, but these poor people have read this sentence more times than they [b]can count, and it gets old fast. Instead, start with a story that [b]demonstrates your early call to law. Look, for example, at the first [b]paragraph of *this essay: [b]"That's not fair." Even as the smallest of children, I remember making such [b]a proclamation: in kindergarten it was "not fair" when I had to share my [b]birthday with another little girl and didn't get to sit on the "birthday [b]chair." When General Mills changed my favorite childhood breakfast [b]cereal, "Kix," I, of course, thought this was "not fair." Unlike many kids [b](like my brother) who would probably have shut up and enjoyed the "great [b]new taste" or switched to Cheerios, this kid sat her bottom down in a chair [b](boosted by the phone book) and typed a letter to the company expressing [b]her preference for the "classic" Kix over the "great new taste" Kix. [b]In telling the story, this writer demonstrates that the roots of her [b]political activism run deep without having to ever say it. She doesn't just [b]tell us and expect us to take her word for it-she shows us. [b]Another approach that is overdone is the "my dad is a XXX" approach. Some [b]admissions officers said that when the only reason an applicant gives for [b]wanting to study a field is a family legacy, it makes them question not [b]only the motivation but the maturity of the applicant. While this doesn't [b]mean you need to hide the fact that your parent is a member of your desired [b]field, it does mean that you should avoid depending on that as your sole [b]reason for wanting to go to graduate school. If a parent truly was your [b]inspiration, then describe exactly why you were inspired by them, and what [b]you have done to test your motivation in the real world. [b]*Sample Essay: English Major [b]Note: This essay appears unedited for instructional purposes. Essays edited [b]by 51Edit.com are substantially improved. [b]"That's not fair." Even as the smallest of children, I remember making such [b]a proclamation: in kindergarten it was "not fair" when I had to share my [b]birthday with another little girl and didn't get to sit on the "birthday [b]chair." When General Mills changed my favorite childhood breakfast [b]cereal, "Kix," I, of course, thought this was "not fair." Unlike many kids [b](like my brother) who would probably have shut up and enjoyed the "great [b]new taste" or switched to Cheerios, this kid sat her bottom down in a chair [b](boosted by the phone book) and typed a letter to the company expressing [b]her preference for the "classic" Kix over the "great new taste" Kix. [b]Through the plenty of "not fair" incidents that followed, my mother tried [b]to explain that unfair things happen sometimes, but I never accepted the [b]idea of an unfair world and began to realize that there were a great many [b]situations and conditions that were "not fair" to women. [b]At age ten, I was mortified that all the boys in my Catechism class were [b]signing up to be altar servers, but girls could not. When my grandmother [b]told me that, at one time, because she was a woman, she was only allowed to [b]touch the altar when she was cleaning it-the fight against the Catholic [b]Church was on. Once again, I sat my bottom down in the chair (still with [b]the phone book) and typed a letter to the Monsignor requesting to be [b]trained as an altar server. With no immediate response, I respectfully but [b]persistently harassed the Monsignor and the other priests every Sunday when [b]I saw them in church, until, nearly two years later, I became an altar [b]server. At age twelve I was almost too old to appreciate the new privilege, [b]but there are girls becoming altar servers in that church to this day. [b]Fighting against things "not fair" for women has been my goal throughout my [b]education, just as it will be in my future, and I have had several unique [b]opportunities toward this end. [b]I have worked two summers in a Sacramento, California, law firm for the [b]managing partner, a brilliant litigator and a woman who really cares about [b]justice, on two of the biggest cases of her career. I performed legal [b]research relevant to the issues of spoliation and antitrust, and I directly [b]assisted Ms. F with trial preparation, accompanying her to court during the [b]trials. Under her guidance I have learned the inner workings of litigation, [b]and I have seen that unfairness pervades all types of law. Having [b]experienced litigation, I know the heavy work load that characterizes trial [b]preparation and can safely say that I approach a legal career aware of its [b]realities. [b]I have also participated in the [school] Center for American Politics and [b]Public Policy (CAPPP) Quarter in Washington program, which allowed me to [b]take classes at the [school] Center and intern at the National Women's Law [b]Center in D.C. The Law Center showed me the public interest side of law, [b]the area of law that I hope to enter in order to address the women's issues [b]that are so important to me. Public interest offers the opportunity to help [b]women who need it the most, those who could not otherwise afford legal [b]assistance and who are often victims of the "not fair," of violations of [b]their civil rights. [b]My classes at [school] and through CAPPP, as well as my participation in [b]the volunteer program at the [school] Women's Resource Center, have [b]afforded me the chance to research issues of the "not fair" for women. [b]Violence against women, an unfairness that maims and rapes and kills, has [b]evolved into a special interest of mine that I hope to pursue through [b]future work in a sex crimes division in criminal prosecution. For two [b]classes at [school] I have researched domestic violence and battered women [b]who kill their abusers. While in Washington, D.C., I studied acquaintance [b]rape among adolescents: after making an extensive review of the existing [b]literature, I tried to conduct original research interviewing teenagers at [b]a recreation center in Alexandria, Virginia. [b]Though at the last moment the recreation center directors did not authorize [b]my project, I did discover a class called "Self-Defense is More than [b]Karate" that was developed by the Office on Women in Alexandria to instruct [b]high school students on relationships,HIV/AIDS, dating violence, and sexual [b]assault. After I observed one week of the program, the Community Education [b]Coordinator asked me to research how such education influences teens, [b]interviewing students before and after they take the class, for the Office [b]on Women. Currently, I seek a research grant from the [school] College [b]Honors Program that would allow me to go back to D.C. in the spring to [b]carry out this project. [b]Fighting the "not fair" is certainly a driving force for me; however, I [b]have chosen to pursue law not only because I consider it to be a weapon [b]against injustice, but also because it fascinates me. My love for the law [b]echoes my love for literature. I participated in theater in high school and [b]majored in English in college because I enjoy analyzing the subtleties, [b]innuendos, and themes that serve as the foundation of a literary work or a [b]dramatic performance. I strive to understand the stories behind the [b]characters involved. I am awed by the power of language and the influence [b]art and literature can have on the values, thoughts, and actions of the [b]audience. So goes the influence on the law: they call it "courtroom drama" [b]for a reason. Just as literature tells a story, so does each legal case, be [b]it criminal or civil; the way in which the law applies to each case must be [b]analyzed and, in some instances, constructed.Law reflects as much as it [b]influences the beliefs of the people it governs. [b]Both law and literature are instruments of change. Furthermore, literature [b]and law can give voice to people who have been traditionally silenced. Just [b]as I love so much to hear the voices of others through literature, I want [b]to use my voice in the realm of the law, calling out "not fair" for those [b]who have not been heard. I want to have a positive influence on the lives [b]of women and all people, be it in the civil or criminal realm, and in law [b]school I hope to gain the tools to do just that. [b]2. Why Qualified? [b]Another major theme deals with your experience and qualifications both for [b]attending graduate school and for becoming a contributing member of your [b]field. Having work experience or research experience in your field is [b]always the best evidence you can give. If you have none, then consider what [b]other experience you have that is related. The rule to follow here is: If [b]you have it, use it. [b]Field Experience [b]Direct experience with your field of study is the best kind to have in your [b]essay. But the important thing to remember here is that any type or amount [b]of experience you have had should be mentioned, no matter how insignificant [b]you feel it is. Here is an **example of an essay by an HIV counselor and [b]one by an ***applicant with ER experience who both are applying to medical [b]school. [b]Research Experience [b]A word of caution: Do not focus solely on your research topic unless this [b]is the standard practice of your field of study and you must outline your [b]thesis. By over relying on your research, you risk your essay sounding [b]impersonal. Watch out for overuse of jargon. If it is necessary for the [b]description of your project, then, of course, you have no choice. But [b]including jargon in your essay just because you are able to will not [b]impress anyone. ***This applicant, for example, delves into the use of [b]scientific and medical terms, but also also spends enough time away from [b]them to reveal his own personal, non-technical voice. [b]Unusual Field Experience [b]Even if you have no formal experience, you might still have field [b]experience that counts. Maybe you are an accomplished amateur astronomer or [b]have been researching quantum physics for years before deciding to pursue a [b]PhD. ****This applicant deals with a fascinating success story: The writer [b]was forced to become a doctor by default in a village in Honduras for a [b]summer, even though she had no formal training, no experience, and her only [b]supply was "a $15 Johnson & Johnson kit." [b]** Sample Essay: Harvard Medical School Essay [b]Note: This essay appears unedited for instructional purposes. Essays edited [b]by 51Edit.com are substantially improved. [b]High School Teacher with AIDS; SCID/Genetics Research Experience; HIV [b]Counselor [b]Before I found out that my high school Spanish teacher was HIV-positive, [b]AIDS was not much more than a bunch of statistics to me. The disease, its [b]course, and the people afflicted with it seemed alien to my life-as distant [b]as the continent from which the virus was supposed to have sprung. Then Mr. [b]T. stopped coming to school. When he reappeared a few months later to wish [b]us well on the advanced placement exam, his face looked sallow. His voice, [b]once a thunderous bass that rumbled in class and reverberated down the [b]hallway, was weak and thin. Seeing my teacher looking so unfamiliar was my [b]shocking introduction to AIDS. I felt as if I were in the presence of a [b]stranger, this mysterious disease, who was insulting Mr. T. right in front [b]of my eyes. I wanted to know who this stranger was. [b]I entered college, believing that biology could explain to me why life's [b]processes went awry. I learned that the body is exquisitely complex, but I [b]was reassured by the underlying theme of systems. Even if I didn't know all [b]the molecules and connections, there seemed no denying that a fundamental [b]order existed. [b]From physiology to cell biology to molecular genetics, my classes presented [b]smaller and smaller systems to explain the origins of diseases. Finally, in [b]genes, with their innocuous four letter alphabet, I felt I was learning the [b]foundation of it all. If biology provided the keys to understanding life, [b]then genetics must be the master key (if only we could see some of the [b]doors we were trying to open). During two summers in a research laboratory [b]at The Children's Hospital of Philadelphia, I helped track down the gene [b]causing X-linked severe combined immunodeficiency (SCID). [b]Even though AIDS and SCID are very different diseases (SCID is exclusively [b]hereditary), each compromises the body's defense mechanisms against foreign [b]pathogens. I felt this was a significant connection. In SCID, I was meeting [b]a distant cousin of AIDS. Learning about common themes of immunodeficiency [b]disorders, such as the perils of opportunistic infections, helped me to [b]begin to understand what had happened to Mr. T. In the SCID laboratory, and [b]in classroom seminars on infectious diseases, science was helping me [b]demystify disease. [b]In the same year that Mr. T. became ill, my grandfather died during bypass [b]surgery and my father underwent chemotherapy and radiation treatment for [b]colon cancer. Since then, disease has had a human face for me. To better [b]understand how people deal with disease or the fear of disease, I've become [b]a volunteer counselor in an HIV clinic. [b]Speaking to people who come in for free testing, I've found that discussing [b]HIV, getting the scary words (and acronyms) out in the open, is a way for [b]many people to release their anxiety. Through expression in their own [b]words, they make the disease real, which helps them to see that it is also [b]preventable. Then, they often take the next step, making specific goals to [b]maintain their health, whether they are HIV-negative or positive. What [b]science in class and lab did for me in confronting the difficult issues of [b]AIDS, talk does for my clients. [b]As an HIV counselor in an anonymous clinic, I feel both the potential of my [b]role and its limits. I can't go home with my clients to remind them to keep [b]condoms under the bed, but I can help them make a plan-something that could [b]stay with them much longer than the information I offer. At the end of one [b]session, one client surprised me with his response to a question I had [b]asked: "What do you think you'll do with the HIV information?" There was a [b]silence in the counseling room as the client pondered, but I recall sensing [b]the comfort of the silence. This was a session that seemed to be producing [b]the potential for a breakthrough (not every session does), and I waited [b]patiently. He responded, "I think I'll ask my girlfriend to use her own [b]needles." Then, the client thanked me for having asked the question. [b]I was thrown. My client proposed a strategy for reducing his HIV risk, but [b]he didn't address what was likely his main issue-heroin use. Should I [b]validate his plan? In effect, that's what I did, because I didn't challenge [b]the drug issue. When he left the clinic, I practically wanted to follow him [b]out the door. I wondered if I would ever see him again and be able to ask [b]him how his plan was going. I wondered if he would ultimately seek help for [b]his drug use. My supervisor reminded me that I had done my job as an HIV [b]counselor. I had helped the client make a plan; he had even thanked me for [b]it. [b]And I can thank him in return. He reminded me that although I have worked [b]to understand disease in the classroom, the laboratory, and the clinic, I [b]still have much to learn about caring for all aspects of a patient's [b]health. I am eager to continue the learning process in the New Pathway [b]Program at Harvard Medical School. [b]*** Sample Essay: Harvard Medical School Essay [b]Note: This essay appears unedited for instructional purposes. Essays edited [b]by 51Edit.com are substantially improved. [b]Radiation Oncology Volunteer; Biochemical Lab Experience; Neurosurgery [b]Research; ER Volunteer; English Language Tutor; Student Advisor; Community [b]Service [b]"Carl, the woman we're about to meet will receive her first palliative [b]treatment today," said Dr. A., an Attending in Radiation Oncology. He [b]continued to explain her case as we walked briskly down the hallways of the [b]hospital. I followed him into the radiation treatment room to meet the [b]patient and learn about the procedure which, sadly, would not eradicate her [b]disease. Since then, I have met with him weekly throughout this summer to [b]learn about radiation oncology and medicine in general. Through experiences [b]such as these, I have learned much about the profession of medicine. I want [b]to become a physician for the intellectual challenges and rewards that come [b]from helping others. [b]I first became interested in medical research by working in a biochemical [b]engineering laboratory at MIT. For over two years I explored the medically [b]related field, biotechnology. I have led experiments involving fermentation [b]bioreactors and trained two inexperienced undergraduates. Recently, I [b]presented a poster entitled "Effect of Antifoam during Filtration of [b]Recombinant Bacterial Broth" at a New England Society for Industrial [b]Microbiology colloquium. Enjoying the biomedical rather than engineering [b]aspects of the work, I have shifted my career interests to medicine. [b]Last summer, I expanded my interest in medicine by working for the [b]Neurosurgery Department at Brigham and Women's Hospital. After a short [b]training period, I worked independently on three research projects: [b]Clonality analysis of schwannomas, clonality analysis of a multiple [b]meningioma, and the loss of heterozygosity (LOH) screening of pituitary [b]adenomas. I developed a strong interest in my work when I observed my [b]mentor, Dr. Peter Black, remove brain tumors in the operating room. After [b]the initial shock and amazement of seeing the exposed brain of a conscious [b]patient, I thought more about the connections between this clinical work [b]and my research. While my projects' objective was to gain a better [b]understanding of tumors, the ultimate goal is to prevent and cure tumors to [b]save human lives-the very people whom I had seen on the operating table! [b]With this thought in mind, I found the motivation to complete the short- [b]term objectives of my projects. I will be the second author of a paper, [b]entitled "Clonality Analysis of Schwannomas," which will be submitted to [b]Neurosurgery. [b]This summer, as a participant in NYU Medical Center's Summer Undergraduate [b]Research Program (S.U.R.P.), I am learning even more about research and [b]clinical medicine. In my work, I am determining the effect of the absence [b]of the N-ras protooncogene on induced tumorigenesis. By conducting [b]molecular oncology research for another summer, I have greatly expanded my [b]knowledge and interest in the field. In addition, through my experiences in [b]the Radiation Oncology Department with Dr. S., I clearly see the greater [b]purpose of medical research beyond personal intellectual gratification. In [b]the case of cancer and many other diseases, research is the only way to [b]overcome the limitations of current clinical treatments. [b]I believe that one of the greatest joys and privileges of physicians are [b]their abilities to directly aid and affect a community. While becoming [b]interested in the science of medicine through research, I have explored [b]human service to understand the art of medicine. When I volunteered in the [b]Emergency Room of New England Medical Center during my sophomore year, many [b]physicians impressed me with their sensitivity and compassion. When not [b]assisting the hospital staff, I took every opportunity to comfort patients [b]who felt scared and vulnerable. During that same year, I also tutored a [b]middle-aged woman in English as a Second Language. It was challenging to [b]teach her vocabulary and sentence structure since, initially, simple [b]communication with her had been difficult. Helping her pass the high school [b]equivalency exam made all of my efforts worthwhile. In addition, I have [b]been an Associate Advisor for freshmen for the past two years. In this [b]role, I have helped first year students adjust to college life. Not only [b]have I played the role of academic mentor, but I have also become an [b]intimate friend and personal tutor to my advisees. For my efforts, I won [b]the annual Outstanding Associate Advisor Award. [b]Besides individual volunteering, I have taken the initiative to help the [b]local community on a greater scale. As Community Service Chair for the [b]Chinese Student's Club for the past two years, I established a new program [b]to promote the interaction between MIT students and underprivileged [b]teenagers. College students and children affiliated with a local community [b]organization, Boston Asian: Youth Essential Service, have become acquainted [b]through regular activities. Through events such as a scavenger hunt and a [b]hands-on introduction to the World Wide Web, MIT volunteers help teenagers [b]learn about the opportunities available at college. Along with several [b]other undergraduates, I have become further acquainted with the teens [b]through individual tutoring. To establish this new service program, I have [b]done intensive planning and budget management. I have refined rough, [b]creative ideas into organized activities involving over twenty people. [b]During the planning stages, I have worked closely with professional youth [b]counselors, other MIT participants, and the teens. While my involvement in [b]this program has been very demanding at times, seeing these teens learn and [b]develop their interests has definitely made it worthwhile. [b]During college I have learned many things outside of lecture halls and [b]libraries. In research labs, I have refined my intellectual curiosity and [b]scientific thought processes. In the local community, I have developed my [b]interpersonal skills and a greater understanding of others. Through it all, [b]I have learned to treasure the simple pleasures of helping others. By [b]becoming a physician, I will continue to develop and apply these personal [b]attributes. [b]**** Sample Essay: Duke School of Medicine [b]Note: This essay appears unedited for instructional purposes. Essays edited [b]by 51Edit.com are substantially improved. [b]Survivor of Anorexia; Emergency Medical Technician Training; Clinic [b]Experience; Medical Volunteer in Honduras; HIV Test Counselor [b]I decided that I wanted to be a doctor sometime after my four month [b]incarceration in Columbia Presbyterian Children's Hospital in the winter of [b]1986-87, as I struggled with anorexia nervosa. Through the maturation [b]process that marked my recovery, I slowly came to realize that my [b]pediatrician had saved my life-despite my valiant efforts to the contrary. [b]Out of our individual stubborn wills was born a kind of mutual respect, and [b]he is one of the people who make up my small collection of heroes. [b]I admire doctors who understand both what is said and what is held back, [b]who move comfortably around the world of the body, and who treat all [b]patients with respect. I am lucky because a few of them have become my [b]impromptu teachers, taking a little extra time to instruct me in anatomy, [b]disease or courtesy. During my Emergency Medical Technician training, one [b]of the emergency room doctors took me to radiology to point out the shadow [b]of a fracture in a CT-scan and trusted me to hold a little girl's lip while [b]he inserted sutures. The physicians in the Hospital 12 de Octubre in [b]Madrid, Spain taught me to hear lung sounds and to feel an enlarged liver [b]and spleen. They explained the social and medical difficulties associated [b]with the management of pediatric AIDS until I understood the Spanish well [b]enough to begin asking questions; then they answered them. [b]I work now in the Mayfield Community Clinic, which provides primary care to [b]members of the Spanish-speaking community near Stanford University. My job [b]as a patient advocate involves taking histories, performing simple [b]procedures and providing family planning and HIV counseling. I try to use [b]the knowledge I have gained from class and practice to formulate the right [b]set of questions to ask each patient, but I am constantly reminded of how [b]much I have to learn. I look at a baby and notice its cute, pudgy toes. Dr. [b]V. plays with it while conversing with its mother, and in less than a [b]minute has noted its responsiveness, strength, and attachment to its [b]parent, and checked its reflexes, color and hydration. Gingerly, I search [b]for the tympanic membrane in the ears of a cooperative child and touch an [b]infant's warm, soft belly, willing my hands to have a measure of Dr. V.'s [b]competence. [b]I first felt the need to be competent regarding the human body when I [b]volunteered with the Amigos de Las Americas program in the town of T. in [b]Lempira, Honduras. The hospital available to the people of T. (at a day's [b]ride in the bed of a truck) was "where one went to die," so my partner and [b]I, with our basic first aid certifications and our $15 Johnson & Johnson [b]kits, quickly became makeshift "doctors". The responsibility initially [b]created a heady feeling; a distressed mother called on us to bandage the [b]toe her eight-year-old son had accidentally sliced to the bone with his [b]machete. I told him the story of Beauty and the Beast in broken Spanish [b]while my partner and I soaked the dirt from his toe, and during the [b]following week we watched him heal. [b]Then our foster-mother, who normally tended to the sick, told my partner [b]and me to "check on the foot" of D. The gentle-eyed, sixty-five year old [b]man lay on his bed, his leg encased in bloody bandages from mid-calf to [b]toe. After performing surgery, the hospital had given him a bottle of [b]injectable antibiotics and some clean needles and sent him home without [b]bandages or further instructions. My partner and I had not been trained to [b]handle so serious a situation. We did not know what had happened; we did [b]not know what the antibiotics were (or if they were actually antibiotics); [b]we did not know if handling D.'s blood put us at risk for disease. We [b]wanted to leave, but leaving the house meant leaving D. and betraying our [b]foster-mother's trust. So we injected the antibiotics and cleaned and [b]bandaged the wound every day for our remaining two weeks in Honduras [b]although we felt ill-equipped for the responsibility, crippled by our [b]ignorance and lack of supplies. [b]In T., I did not feel qualified to receive the trust the townspeople gave [b]so willingly. As an HIV-antibody test counselor in California, I struggle [b]everyday to win my clients' confidence. Somehow a twenty-one-year-old, [b]Caucasian female must be sincere, knowledgeable and open enough to earn the [b]respect of a fifty-five-year-old man who could be her father, a high school [b]sophomore, an ex-drug addict, and a pregnant Latina woman. My clients are [b]black, white, straight, gay, Ph.D. candidates and illiterate; some choose [b]to come to me while others have court-orders. Yet to communicate [b]effectively, each client must have enough confidence in me to engage in [b]dialogue about his drug or sex life and to believe what I tell him, whether [b]or not he chooses to act on our discussion. [b]Speaking with patients, doctors and community members has opened my eyes to [b]some of the difficulties involved with healthcare provision, and I hope I [b]have given some inspiration or comfort in exchange for the knowledge I have [b]received. I want these lessons in openness and compassion to shape my [b]understanding of medicine and allow me to become the type of doctor I [b]admire.