PLEASE TEAR MY PS TO SHREDS! I WILL APPRECIATE ANY HELP!
Posted: Thu Mar 10, 2011 8:08 pm
Ok, this is a pretty rough six page first draft that includes everything but the kitchen sink about me that I thought might help me with the admissions folks.
I am a dual major, Paralegal Studies/Spanish, I made a mediocre 152 on the LSAT and while my Undergrad GPA is 3.11 at the University of Memphis, my LSAC GPA is 2.8 because LSAC doesn't forgive failed classes that I have retaken like my university does.
Please give me your most brutal absolutely honest feedback, if you think I need to add, revise, or delete something, please tell me. For that matter if you think the whole thing is a steaming pile of crap please tell me and let me know what I need differently! I really need to get it down to 2 1/2 pages so please tell me what needs to go. Also is this personal statement, maybe a bit too PERSONAL? Maybe a bit too dark in places?
Here goes:
"Is this really what it comes to in the end?" I wondered as I meandered through the imposing heaps of clutter that surrounded me in every direction of the dilapidated house in which I was attending an estate sale. There were assorted videos and albums commingled in plastic baskets with toasters and light fixtures. There were dingy clothes hanging out of drawers upon which were resting dust-caked tools and appliances that had probably not seen the light of day in my lifetime.
Far from a formal event, this sale was conducted with a chaotic air of haste, as though the organizers wanted to clean out the house before it collapsed in on itself (an imminent possibility judging from the sagging joists and rotting floors). I was on a scavenger hunt of sorts for miscellaneous goods-from old LP albums and magazines, to electronics and appliances-that I intended to resell on eBay at a profit; something I had been successfully doing to pay for expenses while attending school.
As on similar occasions; I felt overwhelmed by the stark absurdity of the situation. I thought about the recently-deceased whose possessions were being sold. A lifetime of achievements and regrets; struggles, griefs, and joys; an entire universe of thoughts and hopes and dreams-all reduced to a few words at a ceremony, a assortment of possessions to be pawned off in the interest of the living. From my perspective, what made this macabre scenario seem so utterly surreal was not a sense of tragedy for the passing of the decedent per se, but rather the sheer banality of the manner in which life was represented.
As. If. Nothing. Matters.
One year ago, I found this perspective utterly debilitating. Now it inspires me and gives my life meaning. Let me explain. I was brought up in a very strict and isolated Fundamental Baptist household. Up until the time I was 14, I was homeschooled and made to attend services three to four times a week at various Baptist Churches of this fundamentalist persuasion. There was no television or secular music in our home. I was routinely taught that we were part of a special group of people favored by God and persecuted by "The world", a ubiquitous entity that seemed to consist of every secular institution, every other religion, and every Christian sect that did not fully buy into to all of the intricacies of our particular doctrinal system lock, stock, and barrel. Needless to say this was a lot for a kid to swallow and in my early teens, I was deemed rebellious by my father and sent to a gruesome Baptist "children's home" for six months. After this I moved in with my grandparents who were of a more mainstream religious persuasion and had a comfortable and happy life while I attended a local Christian academy until I graduated.
Upon graduation, I became at a loss for direction and began to redouble my efforts to become involved with religious activities and once again joined a church that could be best be described as non-mainstream, charismatic and exclusive. Zealously committed to the ideal of being "in the World but not of it" I plunged myself into my studies and other than one semester in which I took to many classes along with a grueling work schedule, I excelled academically. Three years into college however, I was thrown a vicious curve when my younger brother, 12 at the time, was diagnosed with leukemia. His condition was diagnosed as extremely serious and he was put onto a heavy regimen of chemotherapy. His condition began to worsen and within a few months his condition worsened to the point where he was very near death. Though he and I are ten years apart, my brother and I have always been very close. As this began to happen I began to question my faith. Why would something so horrible befall someone from a family who tried so hard to do what was expected of them. I was told that it was a trial, or a test of faith. But these condescending platitudes struck me as lame and hollow, and only made angry. I left the church I had been attending the past four years and subsequently lost most of my friends. I was living on my own at the time in apartment with roommates who did not understand what I was going through. I had spent a lifetime talking to God and convincing myself that I was hearing a voice that was not my own. This no longer worked for me, and for the first time in my life I felt totally and completely alone.
During this time up until a few months after he improved. I experienced a profound existential crisis unlike anything I had ever imagined I could experience. During this period I experience a visceral apprehension of the reality of death that overwhelmed every aspect of my life. It was a physical sensation, marked by a chill that made my bones hurt and a consuming lethargy that made every aspect of my life seem hopeless, empty, and pointless. Though I was surrounded by those who did, I did not take drugs or drink alcohol to cope with my depression. I did, however, develop an eating disorder and I gained over fifty pounds in a three month time span. I failed several classes and my grades plunged sharply. I never contemplated suicide once, partly because I began to see life itself as a cruel protracted suicide.
Just when it seemed that I had hit rock bottom, however, I caught a break. In a fortuitous twist of providence, I scored high on a hiring exam for then Census Bureau, and I was appointed as a supervisor of a crew of enumerators. Having previously worked only in low key subordinate roles, I suddenly found myself having to develop a plethora of skills that I never though myself capable of possessing. I was responsible for overseeing a census count of the entire area surrounding my university, as I became inundated with pressure and challenge, I felt the depressive fog evaporate as it was replaced by a robust and vigorous sense of purpose. I felt truly and totally alive.
After the Census ended that summer. I was invited by my cousin to fly out to San Diego and embark on a cross country road trip. Over two weeks we traversed thousands of miles and visited several national landmarks. After a very difficult year in which I had just recently rediscovered a sense of purpose. It was a welcome relief to have a lot of time to ponder my life. At several places we visited during or trip, the Pacific coast, the Mojave and Hopi deserts, and the Grand Canyon. I was able to experience the glorious feeling of profound irrelevance in the face of something far greater than myself. These thoughts which, rather ironically, had plunged me into despair mere months earlier now invigorated and informed every second of my life.
Since then, I have not struggled with depression or hopelessness but rather with the more persistent adversaries of tedium and mediocrity. I have joined a fitness group where I exercise intensely several times a week, not live up to some arbitrary fitness ideal of good looks, but to get the most health, vitality, and efficiency out of the body I have been given. I have retaken all of my failed classes and improved my grades tremendously. I have resumed my Spanish studies from High School and have achieved near fluency. After reading some excellent books by Thich Nhat Hanh and Allan Watts I began to practice meditation every day in order to improve my focus, and to keep my life in perspective. This has allowed me to face challenges and setbacks with equanimity
As referenced in the beginning anecdote, I have begun a small business as an eBay seller that has achieved modest success and has allowed me to pay my bills while focusing on school.
My struggle now is to live authentically and passionately in the face of inevitable death, and to overcome monotony and lameness by striving to meet my goals with integrity, creativity, and excellence. I no longer look for meaning outside of myself but find purpose in pursuing things that fascinate me.
One such thing that has always interested me is language, and the relationship between words and human nature, and ultimately the relationship between humans and absolute reality. In learning Spanish, I have broadened my perspective by being forced not to simply learn new words for my existing concepts but rather an entirely different way to think about the world. Law, seems to me, to be the science that governs the way in which language used to administer society. I want to practice this science by means of a career in immigration law. The university of x seems to have a strong reputation in this field, and I feel confident that a program of study here would give me the tools to become successful in this field, enriching my life and the lives of those around me.
I am a dual major, Paralegal Studies/Spanish, I made a mediocre 152 on the LSAT and while my Undergrad GPA is 3.11 at the University of Memphis, my LSAC GPA is 2.8 because LSAC doesn't forgive failed classes that I have retaken like my university does.
Please give me your most brutal absolutely honest feedback, if you think I need to add, revise, or delete something, please tell me. For that matter if you think the whole thing is a steaming pile of crap please tell me and let me know what I need differently! I really need to get it down to 2 1/2 pages so please tell me what needs to go. Also is this personal statement, maybe a bit too PERSONAL? Maybe a bit too dark in places?
Here goes:
"Is this really what it comes to in the end?" I wondered as I meandered through the imposing heaps of clutter that surrounded me in every direction of the dilapidated house in which I was attending an estate sale. There were assorted videos and albums commingled in plastic baskets with toasters and light fixtures. There were dingy clothes hanging out of drawers upon which were resting dust-caked tools and appliances that had probably not seen the light of day in my lifetime.
Far from a formal event, this sale was conducted with a chaotic air of haste, as though the organizers wanted to clean out the house before it collapsed in on itself (an imminent possibility judging from the sagging joists and rotting floors). I was on a scavenger hunt of sorts for miscellaneous goods-from old LP albums and magazines, to electronics and appliances-that I intended to resell on eBay at a profit; something I had been successfully doing to pay for expenses while attending school.
As on similar occasions; I felt overwhelmed by the stark absurdity of the situation. I thought about the recently-deceased whose possessions were being sold. A lifetime of achievements and regrets; struggles, griefs, and joys; an entire universe of thoughts and hopes and dreams-all reduced to a few words at a ceremony, a assortment of possessions to be pawned off in the interest of the living. From my perspective, what made this macabre scenario seem so utterly surreal was not a sense of tragedy for the passing of the decedent per se, but rather the sheer banality of the manner in which life was represented.
As. If. Nothing. Matters.
One year ago, I found this perspective utterly debilitating. Now it inspires me and gives my life meaning. Let me explain. I was brought up in a very strict and isolated Fundamental Baptist household. Up until the time I was 14, I was homeschooled and made to attend services three to four times a week at various Baptist Churches of this fundamentalist persuasion. There was no television or secular music in our home. I was routinely taught that we were part of a special group of people favored by God and persecuted by "The world", a ubiquitous entity that seemed to consist of every secular institution, every other religion, and every Christian sect that did not fully buy into to all of the intricacies of our particular doctrinal system lock, stock, and barrel. Needless to say this was a lot for a kid to swallow and in my early teens, I was deemed rebellious by my father and sent to a gruesome Baptist "children's home" for six months. After this I moved in with my grandparents who were of a more mainstream religious persuasion and had a comfortable and happy life while I attended a local Christian academy until I graduated.
Upon graduation, I became at a loss for direction and began to redouble my efforts to become involved with religious activities and once again joined a church that could be best be described as non-mainstream, charismatic and exclusive. Zealously committed to the ideal of being "in the World but not of it" I plunged myself into my studies and other than one semester in which I took to many classes along with a grueling work schedule, I excelled academically. Three years into college however, I was thrown a vicious curve when my younger brother, 12 at the time, was diagnosed with leukemia. His condition was diagnosed as extremely serious and he was put onto a heavy regimen of chemotherapy. His condition began to worsen and within a few months his condition worsened to the point where he was very near death. Though he and I are ten years apart, my brother and I have always been very close. As this began to happen I began to question my faith. Why would something so horrible befall someone from a family who tried so hard to do what was expected of them. I was told that it was a trial, or a test of faith. But these condescending platitudes struck me as lame and hollow, and only made angry. I left the church I had been attending the past four years and subsequently lost most of my friends. I was living on my own at the time in apartment with roommates who did not understand what I was going through. I had spent a lifetime talking to God and convincing myself that I was hearing a voice that was not my own. This no longer worked for me, and for the first time in my life I felt totally and completely alone.
During this time up until a few months after he improved. I experienced a profound existential crisis unlike anything I had ever imagined I could experience. During this period I experience a visceral apprehension of the reality of death that overwhelmed every aspect of my life. It was a physical sensation, marked by a chill that made my bones hurt and a consuming lethargy that made every aspect of my life seem hopeless, empty, and pointless. Though I was surrounded by those who did, I did not take drugs or drink alcohol to cope with my depression. I did, however, develop an eating disorder and I gained over fifty pounds in a three month time span. I failed several classes and my grades plunged sharply. I never contemplated suicide once, partly because I began to see life itself as a cruel protracted suicide.
Just when it seemed that I had hit rock bottom, however, I caught a break. In a fortuitous twist of providence, I scored high on a hiring exam for then Census Bureau, and I was appointed as a supervisor of a crew of enumerators. Having previously worked only in low key subordinate roles, I suddenly found myself having to develop a plethora of skills that I never though myself capable of possessing. I was responsible for overseeing a census count of the entire area surrounding my university, as I became inundated with pressure and challenge, I felt the depressive fog evaporate as it was replaced by a robust and vigorous sense of purpose. I felt truly and totally alive.
After the Census ended that summer. I was invited by my cousin to fly out to San Diego and embark on a cross country road trip. Over two weeks we traversed thousands of miles and visited several national landmarks. After a very difficult year in which I had just recently rediscovered a sense of purpose. It was a welcome relief to have a lot of time to ponder my life. At several places we visited during or trip, the Pacific coast, the Mojave and Hopi deserts, and the Grand Canyon. I was able to experience the glorious feeling of profound irrelevance in the face of something far greater than myself. These thoughts which, rather ironically, had plunged me into despair mere months earlier now invigorated and informed every second of my life.
Since then, I have not struggled with depression or hopelessness but rather with the more persistent adversaries of tedium and mediocrity. I have joined a fitness group where I exercise intensely several times a week, not live up to some arbitrary fitness ideal of good looks, but to get the most health, vitality, and efficiency out of the body I have been given. I have retaken all of my failed classes and improved my grades tremendously. I have resumed my Spanish studies from High School and have achieved near fluency. After reading some excellent books by Thich Nhat Hanh and Allan Watts I began to practice meditation every day in order to improve my focus, and to keep my life in perspective. This has allowed me to face challenges and setbacks with equanimity
As referenced in the beginning anecdote, I have begun a small business as an eBay seller that has achieved modest success and has allowed me to pay my bills while focusing on school.
My struggle now is to live authentically and passionately in the face of inevitable death, and to overcome monotony and lameness by striving to meet my goals with integrity, creativity, and excellence. I no longer look for meaning outside of myself but find purpose in pursuing things that fascinate me.
One such thing that has always interested me is language, and the relationship between words and human nature, and ultimately the relationship between humans and absolute reality. In learning Spanish, I have broadened my perspective by being forced not to simply learn new words for my existing concepts but rather an entirely different way to think about the world. Law, seems to me, to be the science that governs the way in which language used to administer society. I want to practice this science by means of a career in immigration law. The university of x seems to have a strong reputation in this field, and I feel confident that a program of study here would give me the tools to become successful in this field, enriching my life and the lives of those around me.