So I'm in the midst of a full-scale, full-on grad school application blitz. Going for my MFA in Creative Writing (ie, The "Do you want fries with that?" Degree).

But never mind my motivation behind getting the thing, and how useful (and or useless) it may be. What I'm having problems with are the Personal Statements. It's killing me. Why I want to go to grad school, why I want to choose this major, why this program in particular. I have answers, but they sound ridiculous. I've been up and down at this computer for half the night trying not to panic, but I'm starting to worry. I'm not the kind of person who worries about her writing, but suddenly I'm hit with a big wave of not-like-me insecurity.

Does any one have any advice on how to craft these things? What kinds of things are grad school admission committees looking for? If I wanted to go ahead and ask the school what they're looking for, who do I talk to? And have you applied for grad school? Did it get better? Did you get in? Do you love it? Do you cry yourself to sleep every night, thinking about the loans? Tell me everything.

-- Anonymous, June 18, 2001

Answers

You should try to find someone who's served on an admissions committee. This will keep you from making whatever mistake people in your field usually make, which everyone on the committee will groan at together as they read it in 9 out of 10 statements. I'm in political science, and professors in my field can recite by rote an excerpt that contains gems like this:

"And then I went to Guatemala and I worked with the peasant people..."

Then you should have at least 10 people read and edit it. No kidding. Parents, friends, parents of your friends. When I applied to grad school I sent my statement through this particular wringer, and I don't doubt it's why I got into every program; it was because that statement had been purged of every hackneyed phrase, spelling error, and awkward bit of phrasing (unlike now, obviously).

Everyone who's ever sat on an admissions committee told me that schools are looking for an interesting group of people, and for people they know can do the work. The second is just a numbers thing, and it usually still leaves a committee with at least two applicants for every position. The first is harder, because it depends on who applies at the same time that you do. If twenty people who want to study the same subject apply, the professors are spread across ten different fields, and they're accepting 20 people, those people face a lot tougher weeding than someone studying something less popular that year. This is why it usually won't help to call the school to ask them what they're looking for -- the decision may have very little to do with what you write. Plus, they'll just say something moronic like, "Be honest!" Point up any unusual life experiences you might have had that will make you memorable to the committee, as long as it's not the same experience that everyone else had (Guatemala, peasant people); I know, for example, that I was known to committees as the one who walked the streets with drug addicts (my former job). I also put a piece in every essay about who I wanted to study with at that university, referring to their recent work and how it related to my research interest. Apparently this was unusual, and it went over well, so I recommend it.

Getting admitted was the least interesting part of grad school for me. I have really loved my experience, but I knew that I would before I started, because I had done a lot of research in advance. I used to cry myself to sleep thinking about the loans, but then I got smart and decided to start consulting on the side to pay them off before I completed my degree. This was the smartest thing I have ever done. Do not underestimate the pain that student loans can cause you. It is worth working your way through graduate school to make sure they don't destroy you, in my opinion.

In the event that you don't get in, remember that it's probably because 50 other people applied who wanted to do the same thing, and that's unlikely to happen two years in a row. So you can usually apply again and get in the next time. The department secretaries can tell you what to do if this happens. If you're nice to them, and they like you, they'll also give you good tips in general, by the way. And they usually are (non-voting) members of the admissions committee, so whatever you do, don't piss them off. They are not above saying, "Oh I remember that jerk!" when the committee starts talking about your file. Obviously, this is bad.

-- Anonymous, June 19, 2001

Don't write it in the middle of the night. That's my advice. I mean, I got in, but only because I don't think the program is selective.

But I cried over that personal statement, and I think I might have thrown up, too. It wasn't any fun.

I found some tips online -- I think about.com might have something there. I don't think I bookmarked the links, unfortunately.

-- Anonymous, June 19, 2001

This might not be what you want to hear right now, but my advice is to be honest. I say this because I know from experience that there's an overwhelming temptation to make yourself out to seem like the program's dream candidate, but even if it gets you an acceptance you might not otherwise have gotten, it might not end up being what you want.

Everyone I know who has either dropped out or flunked out of grad school has done so because they ended up not being a good "fit" for their program. I think determining "fit" is one of the major things the committee looks for in your personal statement and also in interviews. They want to know if your academic interests are aligned with what the program offers and if you'll get along with the other students and the faculty. And frankly, I think the committee is usually a better judge of fit than the applicants, just because they're much more familiar with the program, they've been through the whole process before many times, and because they don't have the same emotional investment that the applicants do.

-- Anonymous, June 19, 2001

I strongly agree with Jen....er, Dr. Wade. Be honest.

My wife applied for 22 law schools and was accepted by 21 (screw you Boston college), including the number 2 ranked school, where she's in her last year of study. Her applications were all over the spectrum, in what -they- wanted, but her personal statement was the same. She wrote about the strength of character possessed by her great grandmother, and great aunt (recently deceased) who came to America from Mexico. Both women made incredible sacrifices for their family, and in doing so, set an uncommon standard for the women of the family, of that time. My wife wrote about how they continue to inspire her, and how their sacrifices had motivated her to graduate college (first in her family.)

What motivates you? Are there strong characteristics exhibited by someone close to you that you can imply motivates you? Try, in my opinion, to show some passion, in an honest way. Our most recent hired asst. prof in my dept had a personal statement about why her research was important to her, in that a relative had died with the particular disease that we study. And when discussions about her (during the interview process) arose, I would hear the comment made about her relative often... with an impact. It seemed to convey a sense of hard-core sincerity to her desire with regards to her research.

In my opinion, just answer their question: What motivates you? Why do want to come here? Why do want to pursue this degree?

-- Anonymous, June 19, 2001

I wholeheartedly second the suggestion made by Dorie (go Berkeley!) to have ten people read your statement. When I applied for my Fulbright, I had a friend read six, maybe seven drafts of my project proposal. He tore it to shreds every time, because he'd successfully run the application rat race and he knew what it should and shouldn't sound like. I know for a fact I never would have won without his help.

Now, I was very lucky, and chances are good you will not have such a patient friend. (If you do, buy him or her lots of nice things.) This is where the ten people come in--they will each bring their own strengths to the table, and if nine of them say "this sentence sucks," you know that it must be changed. But be careful, however, because if you give the proposal to a relative or a very close non-academic friend, chances are excellent that the response will be "oh, honey, how could they NOT accept you, because you are so smart and talented! If they can't see that, they are idiots and you don't want to be in their stupid program anyway!" This is wonderful for the ego, worthless for the application process.

If you are currently enrolled at a university, can you talk to someone who works in the admissions office for *their* graduate school? They are excellent resources and can often save you hours of time and frustration. Fulbright program advisors, for example, are the ones who tell you (in the vein of the Guatemala peasants cited above) that it is not enough to say "I want to live overseas and experience a different culture." In an ER episode, they cited the cliche "I want to help people." There are equal cliches for MFA programs--"I've wanted to write since I was in utero" is one I've heard--and if you can avoid them, you will be doing yourself a huge favor.

And what Jen Wade said about finding the right "fit"--I second that, too. Look at the statistics for some of the top programs. When I applied to Iowa (slam-dunk rejection), they had over 500 applicants for maybe 25 places. If you write hard-hitting flash fiction with a lot of four-letter words and the department is highly conservative, they might just not be able to see how you could find a supervisor for your senior thesis. You have no control over things like that, but you can try to research programs (contact current or recent students, for example) and eliminate ones that seem clearly unsuited.

I used to counsel ambitious and motivated high school students who applied to a dozen Ivy League schools without blinking, and the advice that I tried to give was: you do everything you can to get into a good university, but sometimes it doesn't happen and IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU. There are infights among the committee members, or bargains struck (you accept my candidate and I'll accept yours); there are administrative decrees and trends in pedagogy. Please, don't take it as a sign of your unworthiness if you don't get into the program of your choice. Even if you write a perfect statement of purpose, it simply might not work out.

But I hope it does! Good luck!

-- Anonymous, June 21, 2001