Examples of Personal Statements and Commentary
Personal Statement 1: Silicon Valley Start-Up
Eighteen months ago, I was sitting at my computer, wedged between a dripping coffee maker to my left and the company’s CFO five feet to my right. Every keystroke shook the flimsy fold-out card table that served as my desk, on loan to the company from another employee’s garage. We were packed in the largest of three rooms in a 2,500 square foot space baking in the heat generated by ten co-workers in close quarters, fifteen running computers, and an abnormally warm summer. On the glass doorway was etched the ghostly lettering of the former company occupying the space, serving as a grim reminder of the ever-present possibility of failure.
Two weeks earlier, I had been in my company’s small conference room sitting at the table surrounded by familiar faces from my last employer. Silicon Valley is incestuous: teams migrate from one company to the next, so I was not surprised to find myself recruited to join my old boss’s newest project. They were selling another David versus Goliath story, featuring a small rag-tag team of engineers defeating a seemingly insurmountable industry leader. Despite my skepticism, I still had a free-running imagination fed with nostalgic thoughts of Bill Hewlett and Dave Packard working on their first audio oscillator in a Palo Alto garage. But at my last start-up company, we had challenged a corporation for a piece of the industry pie, and nine years and $330 million dollars later, the company was a hollow shell doing mostly engineering contractor work. I was lucky enough to join that company late in the game and sell my stock options early, but many others spent a significant portion of their career at a company that came close to glory but ultimately fell short: Goliath 1, David 0.
This time they were telling me it was going to be different; they were always saying this time would be different. I asked them how a small, poorly funded start-up company could go against a giant corporation, which was also the undisputed king of our market, with nearly $400 million in quarterly revenue. After signing a non-disclosure agreement, I was let in on the big secret, the meaning of the “C” in the company name: we were going to use recent innovations in carbon nano-tubes to revolutionize the industry. These nano-scopic cylindrical fibers that allow unparalleled circuit density would be David’s tiny, secret sling.
With the financial incentive of stock options and the confidence gained by working with a crack technical team, everyone was working at full capacity. There were scribbled drawings with names and dates taped up on a wall. These were the jotted ideas from our team of electrical engineers and physicists with M.S. and Ph.D. degrees from schools like Harvard, Stanford, and M.I.T. One posting was my recent workings of a carbon nano-tube electro-mechanical configuration bit, an idea that a co-worker and I had developed that I would write up and the company would push through the patent process. By packing a dozen well-caffeinated physics and electronics geniuses into a pathetic three-room rental that resembled a low-budget movie studio, we had created the primordial soup of intellectual invention. As a result of our collective ideas, our seasoned team, our innovative ideas, and nano-technology being the latest buzzword in investment, we were soon funded by venture capitalists for $10 million. It was immensely exciting to be the tenth employee in a growing start-up company that would have to upgrade offices and dramatically expand staff in an up-scaling war against the industry titan.
The increased design responsibility and unbounded architectural creativity that comes with working for a start-up is unparalleled. However, the necessity of side-stepping patented intellectual property belonging to our competitor, which covered all aspects of our design, from manufacturing to testing, placed a heavy burden on the design team. This danger was extremely real, as a similar start-up had collapsed following an infringement lawsuit related to unauthorized reproduction of a bit stream. As the designer of three different components, I examined our competition’s sixteen patents related to the memory aspect of the device. It was immensely satisfying to study, absorb, and then circumvent patent claims as I designed a conceptually similar but un-patented version of three memory blocks.
I am interested in serving as general counsel for a corporation focused on advanced semiconductor technology. My diverse work experience and master’s degree provide a perfect foundation to tackle the issues faced by a general counsel. I am drawn to the challenges I will find at the intersection of intellectual property, product liability, and corporate law. At this juncture in my life, I seek more challenge and personal growth in a field that calls on my written skills, attention to detail, and love of technology. My background in nano-technology will bring a unique perspective to the NYU classroom and will make me extremely marketable upon graduation. By pursuing a law degree, I intend to enter a profession that aligns with the interests and aptitudes I have discovered and developed through real work experience. It is through deep personal reflection that I have decided that law is the natural extension of my training, personality, and talents.
Commentary 1: Silicon Valley Start-Up
What’s Strong:
This is an excellent personal statement because it shows this candidate has had a tangible impact on organizations, and probably on the global economy. The statement keeps the reader engaged by giving a meaningful story with background, context, conflict, and resolution. It also provides a peek into the mysterious and increasingly legend-generating world of Silicon Valley start-ups. This is a good model for someone who has been out of college for a while, but who hasn’t been working in a law firm. The essay is focused on career goals, with career history to back up the writer’s plans. This person is a doer, not a dreamer. The writer shows a depth of technical knowledge and strong analytic reasoning skills that go far beyond linear thinking, especially in the description of finding new solutions to highly technical problems that do not violate patents. The statement creates desire in the admissions committee to admit this person because other companies seek to hire the applicant and venture capitalists are willing to support the applicant with substantial funds. This statement will inspire members of the admissions committee to act on the applicant’s behalf because he has successfully reached beyond the safety net of college.
This applicant demonstrated his strong written communication skills by writing a compelling statement that uses several kinds of rhetorical appeals. Logos is used to show how his analytical ability helps to keep the company afloat in the same waters where others have foundered. He uses touches of pathos when he describes the “primordial soup of intellectual invention” inside the cramped office. The analogy in which he compares his small start-up and the industry leader to David and Goliath uses both pathos and mythos to excellent effect: The story is one everyone knows, and so just by invoking the names, the writer brings a powerful story into his narrative without using valuable space. This mythic story becomes a theme woven throughout the essay. It is a rhetorical device that establishes a connection in the reader’s mind between this candidate and a leader known for his compassionate ethos. This writer has also composed the statement so that he comes across as an authoritative, competent, thoughtful, and honest leader. This statement helped earn the applicant acceptance to NYU and Columbia Law Schools.
What’s Wrong:
This essay is too focused on the details of the story and fails to give sufficient evidence for why this person is a good candidate for law school. This essay is structured as a personal narrative, and the topic is the applicant’s professional experience. The first paragraph is wholly descriptive prose that has very little to do with why this person is a good candidate for law school. The first paragraph lacks a thesis or a direction for the essay. Ideally, the reader should find a microcosm of the essay in the first paragraph.
The second-to-last paragraph packs in the most value to the admissions committee for the space used, but the background story is important for this paragraph to be so powerful. To make the background story do more work for him, the writer could plant more indicators of his positive qualities and characteristics in the early part of the essay. For example, he could mention how he used his oral communication skills to communicate with his design team and supervisors, so that the admissions committee knows he feels that mastery of oral communication skills is important.
The last paragraph is where the applicant draws together his themes with his self-assessment and goals. He should mention what his master’s degree is in. This writer commits the common error of throwing in the name of the school receiving this statement as a token. Any law school program could fill that place. The writer doesn’t appear to have done research about the law program at NYU. Is NYU School of Law strong in patent law or technology? Or does the applicant feel that being in New York City will put him in contact with East Coast technology specialists who will give him an edge up in his career? The writer needs to persuade the NYU admissions committee that NYU is the only school for him, and he can do this by interpreting how the school’s particular strengths will advance his goals. Despite these quibbles, though, this is overall a fantastic personal statement.
Personal Statement 2: Alice in Casinoland
Seven Impossible Things
Spending much of my childhood in casinos has certainly been a formative experience. For one, I didn’t know the entire arcade floor of Circus Circus, known as the Midway, closes at midnight on weekends. For another, it is illegal for a ten-year-old child to be walking through the casino gambling area with his eight-year-old sister in tow. Fortunately, the casino employees were very helpful once I explained to them that I was looking for my father. It was not very surprising then, years later in my freshmen year at college, my parents divorced, and I was told the family was bankrupted, mired in gambling debt. After all, the time I spent in casinos has taught me more than the operating hours of Circus Circus or the Nevada state laws. It has prepared me for the details of my father’s gambling and, oddly enough, it has prepared me for law school as well.
Most Saturdays, my father would leave my sister in my care at the Midway with twenty dollars each for the arcade. Although the money was for entertainment, in a family where the financial tension is palpable, money becomes sacrosanct and the desire to save is very strong. On one hand, there was the guilt of spending. On the other hand, however, I was usually left at the arcades for eight hours or more. I may have been the only child to methodically apply a risk-return analysis to every arcade game at Circus Circus. My solution was to excel in skill-based games because those games awarded good players with continuous play. A game that allows players to compete against each other with the winner continuing indefinitely was perfect for my budget. As it turns out, this is very conducive to cooperative learning. The arcade is a very friendly atmosphere and opponents are always helping and teaching each other. It is ironic that my father unwittingly fostered a love of collaborative learning by leaving his children by themselves.
My preference for collaborative learning is largely the result of my time at the casino - I have constantly sought to understand myself in an effort to avoid the same mistakes as my father. I avoid drinking, smoking and gambling because I may be predisposed to addictive behavior. According to Black, the oldest child in an addictive family is labeled the family hero and behaves as “the little adult.” The child is responsible and typically very intelligent, the mediator, the perfectionist and the caretaker. It was painful to realize that a complete stranger could describe aspects of my personality so accurately with a turn of a phrase, but I have learned to leverage and appreciate the traits that arose from my unique experiences. I have been the family negotiator, translator and mediator since I was ten. My parents did not speak English so I was the de-facto conduit between my family and the Western world. I was also the caretaker. I watched over my sister whether we were at the casino or at home, and since I graduated, I visit my mother every week and give part of my salary to her every month. Caring for my family has nurtured a desire to serve in a boarder context.
I have always held a fascination with the implications of technology on our laws and conversely our laws on technology. Today, the law is seen as a barrier to technology and innovation. More often, instead of “the law and technology,” the attitude in the media and the forums of technical communities has been “the law against technology.” The Digital Millennium Copyright Act (DMCA) is almost universally hated in the technology world. Understandably, incidents such as when the Secure Digital Music Initiative (SDMI) censored Princeton Professor Edward Felten under the DMCA contribute to the outcry of academics and technologists. These incidents and controversial patents such as Amazon’s 1-Click patent have raised many concerns. The U.S. Patent and Trademark Office has declared itself under siege, unable to stem the workload crisis. Critics argue the current system is stifling innovation with too many vested interests to affect real change. Undoubtedly, the rabbit hole goes quite deep. As a technologist, I may only be able to sympathize with the plight of Professor Felton, but as lawyer I will be able to understand our legal system and participate in the reform.
I am inspired by the humor and energy that exudes from Boalt’s faculty, from Dean Berring’s quip on how he may hold a record as one of the few students to transfer out of Harvard Law School to Robert P. Mergers’ jab at the government when he wrote, “My proposals are directed primarily at the PTO, the courts, and Congress. Because there is very little chance that any of these entities will act on them, I can be bold.” The humor and energy is also evident in Boalt’s balance between strong education and relaxed quality of life. Dean Berring’s remark on how he throws out his notes each year to ensure that he thinks about the issues afresh with the students and to explore them as a group, is a testimonial to this balance. Furthermore, I am passionate about the public interest and constitutional implications of emerging technologies, such as the explosive growth of Internet gambling. The Berkeley Center for Law & Technology, the Berkeley Technology Law Journal and the student group at boalt.org are ideal institutions to explore the ethical advancement of technology. These institutions will also allow me to help others explore their passions and work toward the school’s success - ultimately, it is a symbiotic relationship, and I can only take as much as I’m willing to give.
According to Freakonomics the following three factors correlate with higher test scores: the parents are highly educated, the parents speak English in the home and the parents are involved in the Parent Teacher Association (PTA). My parents did not finish high school nor did they speak English in the home. My parents did not participate in their children’s lives, much less in the PTA. But it is because of these factors, and not in spite of them, that I was valedictorian of my high school, graduated from college in the top eight percent of my class while working twenty hours a week, and improved my LSAT from the 48th percentile to the 95th percentile with three months of preparation. In his essay on business concepts and patent system reform, Robert P. Merges references the White Queen in Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There:
"Now I’ll give you something to believe[" the White Queen remarked.] "I’m just one hundred and one, five months and a day."
"I can’t believe that!" said Alice.
"Can’t you?" the Queen said in a pitying tone. "Try again, draw a long breath and shut your eyes."
Alice laughed. "There’s no use trying," she said, "one can’t believe impossible things."
"I daresay you haven’t had much practice," said the Queen. "When I was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day. Why sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast."
The Midway was my prelude to Boalt’s collaborative atmosphere. It may seem impossible to believe that Circus Circus is a breeding ground for Boalt Law students, but perhaps if I was admitted, the White Queen will make time for seven impossible things before breakfast.
Commentary 2: Alice in Casinoland
What’s Strong:
This applicant chooses to structure his personal statement as a combination of a personal narrative of overcoming odds and a meaningful quote. There is also a light undercurrent of problem-solution analysis, which could be made more palpable. This is a great structure, but the three elements need to be melded together into one organic whole. The main topic is how the applicant made the best of growing up in the Las Vegas casino Circus Circus—potentially a wonderfully unique topic. It is excellent that this applicant researched UC Berkeley Boalt School of Law and gives specific reasons for why he has chosen Boalt. This statement has a strong conclusion in which the applicant discovers the theme of his essay, which he has been setting up all along the way: In the final sentence, the audience learns the full meaning of the title, which is about daring to achieve seemingly impossible goals, including getting into a top law school. The conclusion pulls together all aspects of the essay and ends with a rhetorical flourish that leaves the reader smiling with comprehension at the clever rhetoric.
What’s Wrong:
All the elements of a good personal statement are here, but they need to be supported by more academic accomplishments, and the rhetorical links between the elements need to be strengthened. Nearly half of the personal statement presents the memories of a ten-year-old, and the central quote comes from a children’s book. These aspects raise a red warning flag for the admissions committee, who might wonder if the applicant has made the transition to mature adulthood, or if he has had trouble moving beyond the abandonment he experienced in the casino as a child. So, the applicant must clear away the doubt in the reader’s mind, and to do this, he can cut back on the amount of space given to descriptions of the casino and use more evidence from his adult life in college and beyond to demonstrate that he has all the mature qualities law schools value.
The story the applicant tells is, at its heart, a sad one. That sadness is best balanced by humorous and witty rhetoric, so that the audience experiences both joyful playfulness and poignancy. The applicant’s choice to compare himself to the White Queen in Carroll’s Through the Looking Glass employs mythos because everyone knows the basic story of Alice in Wonderland. The White Queen sees possibilities where everyone else sees impossibilities. She is both ridiculous and wise in Through the Looking Glass. The applicant quotes one of her wiser comments to Alice just before the White Queen turns into a sheep: “Why sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.” For the White Queen’s powerful quote to link the beginning, middle, and end of the essay, though, the White Queen’s quote needs to be connected to Las Vegas. One way to do this would be simply to use the word “impossible” in the introduction, since that is the keyword in the essay. For example, the writer could describe Las Vegas as, in some sense, an impossible city, a city of larger-than-life illusion and enthralling spectacle, where many gamblers want to believe they will beat impossible odds.
If the White Queen took her belief system to Las Vegas, she would probably bankrupt herself before breakfast. The author, on the contrary, would not, because he knows the difference between the impossible that is worth fighting for and the impossible that is not. To make this more evident, the applicant might structure his essay around six impossibly difficult circumstances he has overcome in his life; for example, (1) neglect, (2) gambling debt, (3) a language barrier, (4) no educational precedents, and (5,6) two other circumstances he overcame in college, such as uniting a diverse group of people for a common academic goal, or solving a difficult technology problem by using analytical skills and thinking outside the box. Each of these problems should be given a paragraph, with specific evidence showing that each was solved, and with each solution came the development of valuable qualities, including intellectual ability, analytic ability, imagination, motivation, maturity, organization, teamwork, leadership, self-confidence, and oral and written communication skills. The seventh impossible thing he currently believes will come to pass is, of course, that he will be admitted to UC Berkeley Boalt Hall School of Law.
As the personal statement stands now, the applicant seems to be a loner. Law school admissions committees would like to see more evidence that he can both work with a team and delegate. He explains that he developed collaborative learning skills from being abandoned in the arcade, but he needs to give a specific example of how he has used his skills in collaborative learning as an adult.
The fourth paragraph is not integrated into the personal statement, and it is not personal. It should be integrated into the paragraph on some “impossible” aspect of technology the applicant has overcome. The applicant needs to explain what relationship he has had with patent law as a technologist, and what makes him desire to reform the laws. It’s great, however, that he described the quagmire of “law against technology” as “the rabbit hole,” because this choice of words continues to pave the way for the White Queen. This would be a good paragraph to expand on future goals. For example, does the applicant see himself as a patent lawyer?
Instead of footnotes in a personal statement, one should just mention the name of the author and the title in the main body of the text. The personal statement genre is more like a cover letter than an academic essay, so footnotes are out of place. And finally, double-check that the Dean you mention, if you mention one, is still the Dean of the law school.
Personal Statement 3: High-Stakes Law Experience
During my last semester at Wellesley, having already taken every political theory course offered, I enrolled in a class entitled “Courts, Law and Politics.” On the first day of class, Professor Burke handed out index cards so we could write down the requisite introductory information: Name, Class, Email, Phone Extension. But he added one more question: Are you planning to go to Law School? I quickly wrote down “Yes,” since, for as long as I could remember, law school was always in The Plan.
When Professor Burke read my card, he took advantage of the certainty with which I answered his final question. He jokingly commented that the point of his class was to convince students like me not to go to law school because, as he put it, “most students don’t really know what lawyers do.” I laughed but vowed not to be swayed. After all, I hadn’t allowed a frightening introductory class to dissuade me from studying political theory, a subject in which I later flourished and excelled. Why should I allow this one professor’s joke to shake my confidence in pursuing law school?
* * *
One afternoon, I barged into Professor Burke’s office unannounced after completing that week’s class reading, Broken Contract, Richard Kahlenberg’s memoir about his years at Harvard Law School and his struggle to harmonize his liberal ideals with the mounting pressure to pursue corporate law. “How is it,” Kahlenberg wrote, “that so many students can enter law school determined to use law to promote liberal ideals and leave three years later to counsel the least socially progressive elements of our society?” The question struck me. Law school and becoming a lawyer had always held its place in my long-term life plan; yet, looking back, I had also always dedicated my time and energy to pursuing the liberal trifecta: equality, liberty and justice. From my first research paper at the age of seven on Susan B. Anthony to my stint on the Hill learning about Asian Pacific American political causes to encouraging students to vote as Chair of the Committee for Political and Legislative Action, I had taken pride in consistently searching for ways to increase opportunity, level the playing field, and advocate for those whose voices were seldom heard. Rarely had I considered that, as a lawyer, that might not always be the case. Could I proudly represent both the PG&Es of the world and the trifecta at the same time?
On that day, in Professor Burke’s office, I panicked. I didn’t want to sell out or give up my idealism, but at the same time, I recognized that my past studies and work experiences naturally culminated with a career in law. Part of me was angry—angry at Professor Burke for assigning me a reading that shattered my confidence. The other part of me was scared. Never had I so blindly dedicated myself to an idea I knew so little about. Reading Kahlenberg’s memoir revealed that I had no actual conception of what it was like to practice law or the demands of the career. I was, as he had said, just another student planning to go to law school with no realistic notion of what lawyers actually did.
I can’t recall the majority of Professor Burke’s advice, but I do remember his assurances: only I could change my beliefs and, if he knew anything about me, he knew I wouldn’t take a job in a place where I couldn’t be proud of my work. On that day, I decided that if I was going to go to law school, I was going to enter knowing exactly what I was getting myself into.
* * *
Almost a year later, on a cold February morning, I sat, surrounded by attorneys and other paralegals, in a conference room at Paul, Weiss, Rifkind, Wharton & Garrison, LLP, to hear the latest updates on the largest case ever to be handled at the firm. This case, characterized by several state and federal investigations and a growing number of civil lawsuits, was an all-encompassing monster that demanded the cooperation of almost one hundred attorneys and over twenty paralegals. As associates described the legal basis for each claim, the ongoing discovery process, and their strategies to protect the interests of the company, I listened intently and in awe. By then, I had worked at the firm for almost eight months, and during that time, I saw my responsibilities grow as I adapted flawlessly to the pace of work, hours and demands of the firm. I worked long hours, all-nighters, and “all-weekenders” in order to finish projects on time, and my experience provided me with a realistic picture of attorney life.
While attorneys presented on ERISA, RICO, securities and derivatives issues, I filled with excitement as I matched my past projects to the timelines the attorneys spoke of. In my mind, I saw how my work fit into the larger legal strategy and the story my firm was trying to advocate to the courts. A senior associate closed the meeting by simply stating: “No matter what you're doing or where you end up, know that you are a part of a team that is making history. And that is something you should take pride in.”
* * *
Six days later on February 9, 2006, American International Group, Inc., the world's largest insurance provider, agreed to pay $1.64 billion to settle federal and state charges of fraud, bid-rigging, and improper accounting. It is the largest regulatory settlement by a single company in U.S. history. While the sum itself is shocking, the monetary value of the settlement cannot overshadow the value of the commitment our case team made to ensure that the company fully cooperated with state and federal officials. The next day, the firm credited “a star team of . . . attorneys and paralegals who worked around the clock and traveled around the world” for AIG's “unprecedented” positive relationship with regulators. That day, I was in Bermuda, scouring AIG’s archives for documents. Covered in dust from moving nearly one hundred grimy boxes, I read the firm’s press release and beamed with pride, knowing that I had helped make history. Despite my initial fear of defending large, profit-driven corporations, I managed to help protect a multi-billion dollar company from the detrimental effects of its management choices. There is a difference between a corporation and those who run it, and while there is an obligation to bring those men to justice, there is an equal responsibility to preserve the company in the interest of shareholders, other employees and those who utilize the company’s services. At that moment, I forgot all about the long hours and all-nighters, the monotonous and tedious tasks, the paper jams in the copiers and the paper cuts, the high expectations, and the pressure for perfection. I remembered, instead, the lessons I had learned along the way: communication is key; organization and precision are necessary; patience under pressure is invaluable; and above all, a flexible perspective is vital. Sometimes there are large, greedy corporations that prey on the individual, but other times, and in this case, there are greedy individuals who prey on the companies they run. In that minute of reflection, a realization crossed my mind: my grandiose view of law was gone, and in its place was a truer understanding of the practice of law.
My view of law is still idealistic in its effects, but entirely practical in its exercise. Fusing my knowledge of political theory, which constantly searches for the ideal, with my experience in a law firm, which celebrates tangible results, I bring a conception of law that balances its normative nature with its descriptive qualities. And more importantly, through all this discovery and self-exploration, I created a personal understanding of law that I can not only practice, but also take pride in.
Commentary 3: High-Stakes Law Experience
What’s Strong:
This is a truly exceptional law school personal statement. The candidate structures the statement as a narrative of personal growth, and her topic is what led her to learn more about the responsibilities of a lawyer in a firm. This essay is full of specific details, including unique details chosen for the competitive edge they give against other candidates. Her narrative follows a dynamic plotline in which she starts out with great self-confidence, then falters, is guided by a mentor through the crisis, and then proactively seeks more knowledge in a new realm that restores and even boosts her self-confidence to a new level. This is a standard format for a law school personal essay, but this candidate shows herself to be one of the best applicants in the pool because she was one of the twenty paralegals working on the largest regulatory settlement by a single company in U.S. history. Through this work, the applicant impacted hundreds of individuals. Being able to claim this fact is the climax of the essay, which all the other component parts work to set up and enhance. Even her stint on Capitol Hill is subordinated to this achievement. The applicant chose a narrative that keeps her human, but makes her look like a star in the end.
The specific details about this event make the narrative both genuine and impressive. Law school admissions committee members know very few applicants will have dug through dusty files to gather evidence for a trial, and almost none will have traveled to an overseas territory to do so. This applicant speaks exactly the right rhetoric that will appeal to the admissions committee audience. For example, she uses a comparison to explain how she “excelled and flourished” in one area, which is comparable to another in which she expects to excel. She tells the reader about the organizations in which she has held leadership positions by working them into her argument about how she has valued liberal politics in school. This way they seem perfectly appropriate to the context and seamlessly woven into the narrative, while they contribute evidence for why this candidate should be admitted. A less rhetorically sophisticated essay might just state the leadership positions, but not use them to make a larger point. The candidate’s rhetorical treatment of what went through her mind when she read the press release is also rhetorically masterful: She tells the reader that at that moment she did not remember the bad times x,y,z, but she remembered the lessons learned, including x,y,z. This clever sentence lets the reader know that she has experienced the mundane aspects of the profession (dust, paper cuts, copy jams), so she knows what she is getting into on that front. The writer could have said she remembered the good times and described some moments with her team, but instead she made a better rhetorical choice and described the lessons she learned from the experience. The reader can tell the lessons she learned are genuine, and it turns out that these are important skills to hone in order to be a good lawyer: communication, precision, patience, flexibility. Thus, the applicant pithily showcases some of the qualities admissions committee members look for, while suggesting she is now knowledgeable about the various demands of the law profession. She gives an intelligent, self-taught description of a corporation as more than those at the highest levels. The candidate ends positively with a strong ethos, underscoring her confidence, self-determination, and promise to succeed in a law career.
What’s Wrong:
This essay is quite long. If necessary, the third-to-last paragraph and the last paragraph can be cut, since they do not add anything particularly new to the statement. The second-to-last sentence contains unnecessary jargon. The narrative about Professor Burke is possibly a bit dramatic. Surely she didn’t fling open her professor’s office door and literally barge in. Law schools don’t want to think a candidate will have future crises in which she defies common rules of decorum. It would be fine to say simply, “One afternoon I showed up at Professor Burke’s office unannounced after completing that week’s class reading, Broken Contract, Richard Kahlenberg’s memoir about his years at Harvard Law School and his struggle to harmonize his liberal ideals with the mounting pressure to pursue corporate law.” The applicant will probably want to have Professor Burke write a letter of recommendation for her, as well as one of the lawyers at Paul, Weiss, Rifkind, Wharton & Garrison, LLP. In the paragraph in which she describes the lessons she has learned from the AIG case, she might want to talk about teamwork, since this is especially important to admissions committees. It could be done by writing, “communication with the team is key.…” Finally, to work in evidence of her intellectual and analytical abilities when she describes the dusty files, she could claim to sift through files quickly and efficiently while gathering evidence that would make the strongest argument.