If you were about to invite a couple thousand strangers to live at your house for 4+ years, you’d probably want to get a sense of who was going to show up at your door.
Colleges are thinking the same thing.
One of the primary ways they do so is through your personal statement. A personal statement is an essay used as one major component of the application process by many colleges and universities, especially highly selective schools. It can vary in length, but most personal statements (written for the Common App or Coalition) will tend to be close to 650 words, and will help a reader get a sense, among other things, of who you are and what you value.
What is a Personal Statement?
Note: The below are shorter, more general versions of their longer, more in-depth articles.
At CEG, we generally define a personal statement (for the college application process—there are personal statements for other kinds of applications, such as scholarships) as an essay that helps a school understand the values, skills, interests, and qualities you bring to that campus and community. Schools use it to get a feel for who you are and, in some ways, how you and the school fit together.
Other components of the application—your transcript, test scores, recommendations, activities list, etc.—give them a sense of your academic merit and focus. And while it’s good if the personal statement dovetails with those things (if you’ve taken a ton of classes focused on STEM, interned at a lab, and have a rec letter from your chem teacher, and then you write an essay about wanting to be a fine arts major, that may cause some confusion, if not raise red flags), the personal statement’s goal isn’t simply to show your academic interests and accomplishments. Instead, its purpose is to help them get a feel for the human being behind those things—the moments, experiences, and insights that have shaped you.
To give you a more visceral sense of it: years and years (and years) ago, I worked in a summer teaching program, and one summer, there happened to be nine students named Paul Kim. They each had similar grades, test scores, interests, activities… on paper, they might have seemed like the same person. But they weren’t. You knew this after spending just a few minutes with them.
But the only way colleges were really going to know that was through their essays.
Before we dive into what you should include in your personal statement, a few more things this essay isn’t:
It’s not a typical 5 paragraph English class essay, with Intro/Argumentative Thesis/3 Body Paragraphs/Conclusion Kinda Like The Intro.
It’s not a resume.
It’s not simply a journal entry (*though some structural approaches can share similarities with one).
It’s not an academic essay, especially not one in which you avoid the word “I”.
What to Include in Your Personal Statement?
“Show who you are” might feel a bit nebulous. So here’s a clearer way to approach it: We think the easiest way to demonstrate who you are is through showing what you value—through moments, stories, and experiences that shaped those values in you, and that demonstrate how you have embodied those values. To find some clarity regarding your values, spend 5-10 minutes working through our Values Exercise.
Do you have to include academic and career goals in your personal statement? Nope. You definitely can, if you’re clear on what those are. But you aren’t required to—colleges understand that you may not know yet. For many schools, you’ll also have an opportunity to discuss academic and career aspirations in a Why Us or Why Major supplement.
In our experience, great personal statements for college undergraduate admission demonstrate (at least) these four qualities:
Core Values—We’re risking repetition here because we think demonstrating your values is pretty fundamental.
Insight/reflection—As in, have you worked on thinking about why these moments/experiences are important to you? Have you developed the ability to reflect?
Vulnerability—Does your essay offer moments that allow us readers to feel closer to you? Is your heart coming through?
Craft—Does your essay show that you’re ready to write in college?
Writing Your Personal Statement
If you want a step-by-step guide, from brainstorming to refining, head to that link.
I’ll cover the quick version here.
We think there are two basic structural approaches that can work for anyone (as in, literally every person could use one of these, and still write completely different, compelling essays).
Montage Structure—a series of experiences and insights, connected by a thematic thread. For example, 5 different “homes” that explore 5 different sides of you.
Narrative Structure—classic western story structure, focusing roughly equally on a) Challenges You Faced, b) What You Did About Them, and c) What You Learned. Paragraphs and events are connected causally.
Brainstorming
If you didn’t do the Values Exercise above, do so—this will be the foundation for what you write.
A few other brainstorming we’ve found super helpful for students:
Feelings and Needs Exercise (usually for Narrative)
Outlining
Outlining well can save you a lot of time by giving you a clearer picture of whether or not an essay will probably work, and give you an easier time building your early draft.
For a montage, you’ll want to outline how different instances of your thematic thread (like “homes”) connect to different values through different experiences in your life.
For a narrative, you’ll want to outline the three aspects we mentioned above:
a) Challenges You Faced
b) What You Did About Them
c) What You Learned.
Drafting
Once you’ve outlined the elements above, dive into drafting. And we’d highly recommend, if at all possible, going through multiple drafts. Most if not all of the example essays on our site went through 5+ drafts.
Knowing that you’ll be revising multiple times also makes writing your first draft easier—your goal here is to get it down, not get it “right” on your first shot. That mindset tends to help with anxiety and writer’s block.
Revising
One of the best general tips we can give you as you revise is to read your essay out loud to yourself. And try to read from a total stranger’s perspective.
Reading out loud will help you notice problems you may have missed when reading it in your mind. And reading from a stranger’s perspective will help ensure you aren’t relying on things in your brain that need to be on the page (but aren’t).
If you want to revise your beginning, here are 9 possible techniques.
Endings? Here are 10 different approaches.
This guide to Revising Your Essay in 5 Steps will help you strengthen the clarity and flow of your essay. As will this post on building better transitions.
You might also try reading your essay to a trusted family member, teacher, or friend. They might be able to give you some constructive feedback to make your piece more relatable or accessible for other people.
If you want to explore any of the above in much greater detail, check out our Ultimate Guide for writing your personal statement.
Personal Statement Examples
Montage—”Dragons” thread
I’ve always been a hardcore dragon enthusiast; there are so many types of dragons, each of them with powerful mythologies. But there are certain ones I am constantly drawn to because I recognize them in parts of myself.
Quetzalcoatl– The Aztec God of Creation.
According to the Aztecs, Quetzalcoatl created the human race from nothing but bones. Although I’ve never built my own Frankenstein’s Monster, I have built robots. I’m addicted to creating decision matrices, and to the thrill of seeing each bot work, knowing I’ve assembled everything correctly. I’ve also traveled with my school to build houses for the homeless of Tecate, Mexico. It was my first time using a hammer–I got hooked on the weight of it in my hand, and the ache in my arm afterward, knowing that I had built someone a home. Though I took great pride in it, I saw firsthand the limits of human labor. One house per week is simply not enough; I realized that, to help the most people, logic-based technology, like what I was using in robotics, could improve upon what humans can do. Efficiencies like this are what drive my desire to be an engineer.
Kulshedra– The Albanian dragon of the Apocalypse
Like this dragon, I too, am always tripping over myself. Although I don’t have a tail, I’m always breaking things: my Nintendo 3Ds, my laptop, my phone. I break myself sometimes too: my self-esteem, my confidence. Being clumsy is rough, especially when you’re clumsy in more ways than one. Thankfully, my knack for building things also applies quite well to fixing them. I’ve learned to repair electronics, and to forgive myself and get back up when I trip. Perhaps I’m not quite the catalyst for the end of the world, but the chaos that I embody has taught me that you can’t prevent or prepare for everything. I’ve learned to go with the flow, and how to cope and recover when it doesn’t move in my favor.
Fuzanglong– The Chinese Volcano Maker
I live in a world of fire. Although I can’t quite light candles with my breath, I can light them with a match, and that’s exactly what I do on my favorite holiday: Diwali. The popping of firecrackers mixing with the laughter of my brother and cousins is my favorite sound in the whole world. I was raised in a Hindu household, and we like things hot. I can eat a chili whole, and nothing is better than a plate of steaming biryani fogging up my glasses and burning my tongue. We speak rapid-fire Hindi at home, and it’s louder than any volcanic eruption. The culture I have grown up in has taught me to keep my family, blood-related or not, close to my heart. So while I can’t exhale fire, I never have to look far to find a flame.
Ryūjin– The Japanese God of the Sea
I used to fear the ocean. I was afraid of being pulled under a wave, so I rarely left the edge of the sand. It took time, but I’ve found the confidence to splash far into the water, where the ground sinks away. When I decided to create my own video game, it took many tries to get it right. But I knew from the waves that there are two types of courage in the world: the courage to start something, and the courage to start over. I’ve learned that the latter is harder to find than the former, and though it might be unpleasant, it’s better than getting swept out to sea.
The dragons within me are powerful, fierce, and independent, but also gentle, helping, and kind. They remind me that I’m capable, that I have the power to take something and change it. They teach me how to be the absolute best I can be, and they push me to claw my own path to triumph.
— — —
Notes/analysis
Structure:
This essay offers a nice illustration of how a thematic thread can be used to build a montage of otherwise seemingly disconnected facets of who you are. And while it can be totally fine to use more common threads/themes (we’ve seen many “Food” montages, for example), finding something less common like “Dragons” can make it easier to stand out.
This structural approach helps the author accomplish one of the primary goals of a personal statement: Each paragraph gives us new insight through specific moments, experiences, and reflections into who the author is and what they value—engineer, humanitarian, tinkerer, etc—and we gain some understanding into their sense of cultural identity and values, intellectual interests, and career focus.
The author uses a nice, clear opening and ending. Rather than relying too heavily on a hook, the author uses some phrasing that can intrigue the reader (What does it mean to be a “hardcore dragon enthusiast”? Where are you heading with this?) then clearly sets up the direction of the body (different dragons = different parts of me), and allows the body itself to do the heavy lifting regarding audience interest. The conclusion is effective while concise, connecting to the values and qualities the author has illustrated in the body.
Content:
The different body paragraphs do a nice job of helping us understand who’s going to show up at our college’s door (Linked to that—as you read through the next sample essay, notice how different the two students feel to you, and how that stems from the different experiences and reflections they offer). The dragons themselves are intriguing, and show depth of exploration (I had no idea some of these existed, and it’s fun to learn about them). But far more importantly, the paragraphs highlight different values through different pursuits and experiences. And the author does a nice job offering both moments of vulnerability (for example, “Like this dragon, I too, am always tripping over myself. Although I don’t have a tail, I’m always breaking things: my Nintendo 3Ds, my laptop, my phone. I break myself sometimes too: my self-esteem, my confidence. Being clumsy is rough, especially when you’re clumsy in more ways than one.”) and insight/reflection (such as “But I knew from the waves that there are two types of courage in the world: the courage to start something, and the courage to start over. I’ve learned that the latter is harder to find than the former, and though it might be unpleasant, it’s better than getting swept out to sea.”).
Narrative Example
“Salasha!” My parents called from upstairs. My grandfather named me: ‘Sa’ for Saraswathi, ‘La’ for Lakshmi, and ‘Sha’ for Shakthi, the Hindu goddesses of knowledge, prosperity, and power respectively. This meaning behind my name created the central mantra of my life: knowledge provides the power to become prosperous. Little did I know that answering my parents’ call to come upstairs would lead me to discover that the father I admired and loved was not my biological father. This knowledge rendered an indomitable feeling of powerlessness in me.
It didn’t make any sense. But it did, all the same. All those vague memories of being present at my parents’ wedding, those times where I was denied access to the old photo albums--the pieces seemed to now come together. My first barrier of defense was to falsely claim that I somehow knew it all along. I was determined to be strong in front of my parents, to nonchalantly brush this off as a part of the past.
I may have tried to fool my parents, but I wasn’t fooling myself. My brother was now my half-brother, my grandmother was suddenly my step-grandmother, and so on for my “father’s” entire family. I was devastated and no longer recognized myself. Who was I? Where did I come from? Why do I deserve this? These questions plagued me for the next few years.
So, I immersed myself in fictional tales. I found synergy in the estranged child genius Artemis Fowl and the passionate fight for minor emancipation in My Sister’s Keeper. I discovered a quiet, strong power in books that empowered me with all the knowledge I thought I needed to take care of myself. Nevertheless, a part of me knew that closing myself off from real human connection was only a coping mechanism to ‘protect’ myself from insecurity and distrust.
While I was creating my own fictional solitary version of a family, I was also beginning life in a brand new school. Looking up from books one day I found myself in an assembly run by an overly energetic yet welcoming group of people known as Leadership. With cheers reverberating in my ears that night, I accepted what I had been brushing under the carpet for so long--I genuinely missed being a part of something larger than myself. Leadership showed me a model of family that I wanted to participate in: honesty and assertive communication.
Leadership has taught me confidence, but also how to find power in vulnerability. I slowly regained my ability to trust other people, which in turn led to bursting out of my self-imposed bubble, including my current position as Senior Class Vice President.
Though I still engage in solitary acts, I now discern a clear line between being alone and being lonely. I go to concerts alone, but I see it as a connective experience. In a room full of strangers, we are all bonded by sharing the same joy. Learning to share my solitude with others felt like inhaling petrichor: the smell of the earth after rain, when everything is completely cleansed. I learned also to connect with my family again. Intentionally distancing myself didn’t do anyone any good, including me. Ironically, a whole journey that started with a betrayal of trust has made me more trusting.
And so I carry my name sometimes as a blessing and sometimes as a burden. I take strength from those goddesses, and have been able to gain an inkling of their wisdom. I may not have the power to rewrite my past, but I do have the power to control how I navigate the future and the ability to feel connections with people that I have yet to meet. This to me is the very essence of prosperity.
— — —
Notes/analysis
Structure:
We wanted to offer this example because, among other things, it does a nice job of demonstrating narrative structure—roughly even parts of a) Challenge + Effects b) What I Did About It and c) What I Learned.
Because it’s particularly important, we want to emphasize that only about a third of a narrative should generally focus on the challenge and its impact on you—again, one of the primary purposes of a personal statement is to show us who you are, and we learn that far more from what you’ve done about and learned from challenges in your life than we do from the challenges themselves.
There are other elements of this essay’s structure that are great to emulate:
Its intro does a nice job of hooking us in (with a moment of suspense), then clearly setting up the conflict that drives the narrative forward. While not every narrative has to do this in the first paragraph, your readers will generally thank you for that kind of clarity.
Its body offers clear actions in response to the challenge that demonstrate increasing growth (from reading, but then recognizing that as avoidance, to branching out and connecting with her school/community).
And its ending offers some final insight/reflection while giving us a feeling of closure.
Content:
Content and structure go hand and hand here with those three components of narrative. That structural arc allows you to demonstrate how you have grown and changed through your experiences, why they matter to you, and why you feel these are fundamental to a reader’s understanding who you are. Notice that most of the essay focuses on what she did in response to the initial experience, with increasing growth and maturity, and what she learned through those choices.
The author offers nice, specific details that help us to understand her story (for example, “I found synergy in the estranged child genius Artemis Fowl and the passionate fight for minor emancipation in My Sister’s Keeper. I discovered a quiet, strong power in books that empowered me with all the knowledge I thought I needed to take care of myself.” instead of just “reading helped me cope.”). There are moments of vulnerability that make us feel closer to her (such as acknowledging “I may have tried to fool my parents, but I wasn’t fooling myself”, or even the entire idea of sharing such a destabilizing experience.) And one of the strongest aspects of the essay is the reflection the author includes (Like “Nevertheless, a part of me knew that closing myself off from real human connection was only a coping mechanism to ‘protect’ myself from insecurity and distrust.” or “Learning to share my solitude with others felt like inhaling petrichor: the smell of the earth after rain, when everything is completely cleansed.” or several others).
Special thanks to Andy for contributing to this post.
Andrew has worked as an educator, consultant, and curriculum writer for the past 15 years, and earned degrees from Stanford in Political Science and Drama. He feels most at home on mountain tops and in oceans.
Top Values: Insight/Growth | Truth | Integrity
