Top Law Schools

My current personal statement. Have played with some recommended revisions, submitting tonight, just found this site, thought I'd post it for maybe a few last critiques.



“Don’t ever let anybody tell you that you can’t, because you can. Don’t ever let anything or anyone hold you back. Nothing on this Earth can stop you. You are loved. You are strong. You are mine. You are exactly who you are supposed to be, and I love you.”
-“Mommy’s Message” – From my daughter’s Baby Book.

The china hit the carpeted floor, sending a soft “thud” into the living room where my sisters and I huddled on the couch, waiting for it to be over. This was nothing new to us. As soon as we heard him getting loud, my baby sister would run to our older sister for comfort, occupying and comforting each other, providing distraction from the chaos that often accompanied what our parents called a marriage. At five years old I had decided that my parents had no business being together. At fifteen, after a similar altercation, I determined that I would never depend so completely on another person that I could not financially or physically escape. I would not make my mother’s mistake.
We fixated on college as our escape. I had planned the next eleven years of my life with precision: private undergraduate college, Army ROTC, active duty, and law school during my inactive duty. I delivered the parent appreciation speech at my high school graduation, walked out the doors, and never planned to look back at the small town that had turned its back to me and my sisters for so many years.
Three weeks later I found myself grappling with the biggest decision I had ever had to make, the consequences of which could be life-altering: what to do about my unplanned pregnancy. After many tears, careful thought and intense self-reflection, I altered the plans I had so meticulously outlined for myself and began my new life as a teenage, working, student-mother.
That decision affected so much more than I ever dreamed. My daughter is a shining light for everyone who knows her. I stayed in that small town until after my college graduation, where her father and I parted ways at the fulfillment of our promises to each other to get through college. My daughter’s influence changed her father from a selfish boy to a hard-working man. She pulls my mother from her depression. She pulled my father a little bit further away from alcohol.
What that little girl has done to me, however, is astounding. I was always driven, always confident, and always self-sufficient. But I have never been so devoted to a single person. Everything that I do is no longer for me alone, but for her as well. I am her example. I am Mommy. I hope that she pays attention.
She will never see me stop. Through a difficult pregnancy at eighteen, a brief cancer scare at twenty, bills to pay all the while, I made it this far. I made it for her. But I am not done. While nearly all of my original life-plans have changed, one thing has always remained a beacon on the horizon: law school. I have dreamed it for most of my twenty-five years. I have laid the groundwork to succeed, and I shall continue to do so. She will not, nor will anyone else, see her mother give up, give in, fall away, or make excuses. She will watch her mother walk to her dreams, beyond the horizon, and I pray she takes notice that I have shown every person who has ever told me I can’t that I can. I have allowed nothing to hold me back, nothing has stopped me. I am loving, I am strong, and I am exactly who I am supposed to be. I love me, because as her example, she will be the type of woman who loves herself. I will show her how.

I think maybe you should talk about why you want to go to law school and why you'd make a good lawyer --rather than it being your destiny/fulfilling prior ambitions... and use less emotional language. If there's a story in there --it'd be how you've become more responsible since your unplanned pregnancy --not the fact that you want to set a good example for your kid and why you love yourself.
I think it's important to remember you can do a lot more damage than good with these things. Why even say that your pregnancy was unplanned? You could potentially use it as a powerful example of the prior you and the woman you are now-- but right now, it's not.

I agree. I'm not a mushy person....but this is just about the only thing about me that doesn't show elsewhere on my application. I'm proud of what I've accomplished, and thought perhaps showing my motivation for success would be "humanizing" so to speak. I thought the intro highlighted my reasons for wanting to go to law school, but you're right, it's not entirely evident and it's absent anywhere else.

I felt the unplanned part highlighted adaptability, acceptance of consequences, and ultimately the development and acceptance of greater personal responsibility. Anyone else think that I've poor judgment for mentioning it?

And revising now, easing up on pathos....will repost soon. and Thank you!

Ok, revised edition:

Still unsure as to whether I should reword the unplanned/surprise pregnancy.....for some reason I feel that is an important part of the story, that I reworked everything in my life and "rolled with the punches." Also, I think it's fairly obvious that at 18 it was unplanned and that addressing and admitting as much will work in my favor....somehow....maybe I should keep but still reword it? Or just scrap it entirely.....


“Don’t ever let anybody tell you that you can’t, because you can. Don’t ever let anything or anyone hold you back. Nothing on this Earth can stop you. You are loved. You are strong. You are mine. You are exactly who you are supposed to be, and I love you.”
-“Mommy’s Message” – From my daughter’s Baby Book.

The china hit the carpeted floor, sending a soft “thud” into the living room where my sisters and I huddled on the couch, waiting for it to be over. This was nothing new to us. As soon as we heard him getting loud, my baby sister would run to our older sister for comfort, occupying and comforting each other, providing distraction from the chaos that often accompanied what our parents called a marriage. At five years old I had decided that my parents had no business being together. At fifteen, after a similar altercation, I determined that I would never depend so completely on a person that I could not financially or physically escape. I would not make my mother’s mistake.
We fixated on college as our escape. I had planned the next eleven years of my life with precision: private undergraduate college, Army ROTC, active duty, and law school, focusing on issues in women's justice and child advocacy, during my inactive duty. I delivered the parent appreciation speech at my high school graduation, walked out the doors, and never planned to look back at the small town that had turned its back on me and my sisters for so many years.
Three weeks later I found myself grappling with the biggest decision I had ever had to make, the consequences of which could be life-altering: what to do about my surprise pregnancy. After many tears, careful thought and intense self-reflection, I altered the plans I had so meticulously outlined for myself and began my new life as a teenage, working, student-mother.
That decision affected so much more than I ever dreamed. My daughter is a shining light for everyone who knows her. I stayed in that small town until after my college graduation, where her father and I parted ways at the fulfillment of our promises to each other to get through college. My daughter’s influence changed her father from a selfish boy to a hard-working man. She pulls my mother from her depression. She pulled my father a little bit further away from alcohol. She has made me a fighter. I fight for her, for me, and will fight for every woman to see equality and justice. She has made me devoted; devoted to her, to myself, and to a world that no longer see or treats women as chattel. Everything that I do is no longer for me alone, but for her as well. I am her example. I am Mommy. I hope that she pays attention.
She will never see me stop. Through a difficult pregnancy at eighteen, a brief cancer scare at twenty, bills to pay all the while, I made it this far. I made it for her. But I am not finished. While nearly all of my original life-plans have changed, one thing has always remained a beacon on the horizon: law school. I have dreamed of it for most of my twenty-five years. I will work for women's justice as hard as I have worked for my daughter, for she will be an amazing woman someday who deserves an amazing world. She will not, nor will anyone else, see her mother give up, give in, fall away, or make excuses. She will watch her mother walk to her dreams, beyond the horizon, and I pray she takes notice that I have shown every person who has ever told me I can’t that I can. I have allowed nothing to stop me. I am loving, I am strong, and I am exactly who I am supposed to be, going exactly where I am supposed to go.

As a single-parent I immediately identified with your passion, I think your character comes through very well. It's a very touching paper. I see that you did add why you want to be a lawyer and I think that's good, but I would expand just a little more. Also, talk a little about your qualities or characteristics that will make you successful in law school (other than motivation/drive, which I see you have). Overall, I think you have a good paper.

Revised......again. With an additional tidbit that I couldn't find a place for before, but turns out it fits in perfectly

“Don’t ever let anybody tell you that you can’t, because you can. Don’t ever let anything or anyone hold you back. Nothing on this Earth can stop you. You are loved. You are strong. You are mine. You are exactly who you are supposed to be, and I love you.”
-“Mommy’s Message” – From my daughter’s Baby Book.

The china hit the carpeted floor, sending a soft “thud” into the living room where my sisters and I huddled on the couch, waiting for it to be over. This was nothing new to us. As soon as we heard him getting loud, my baby sister would run to our older sister for comfort, occupying and comforting each other, providing distraction from the chaos that often accompanied what our parents called a marriage. At five years old I had decided that my parents had no business being together. At sixteen, the responding officer to my baby sister’s 911 call blatantly told us, “I’m not going to chase down and jail the bread and butter of this family and leave you all with no way to survive.” We would have gladly given our bread and our neighbor’s butter for someone to step forward and end the cycle. But this small town officer, a “friend” of the family, felt my father’s paycheck was more important than tracing down the man who had just assaulted my mother, grabbed his pistol, his dog, and took off drunk in my car.
We fixated on college as our escape. I had planned the next eleven years of my life with precision: private undergraduate college, Army ROTC, active duty, and law school, focusing on issues in women’s justice and child advocacy, during my inactive duty. I delivered the parent appreciation speech at my high school graduation, walked out the doors, and never planned to look back at the small town that had turned its back on me and my sisters for so many years.
Three weeks later I found myself grappling with the biggest decision I had ever had to make, the consequences of which could be life-altering: what to do about my surprise pregnancy. After many tears, careful thought and intense self-reflection, I altered the plans I had so meticulously outlined for myself and began my new life as a teenage, working, student-mother.
That decision affected much more than I ever dreamed. My daughter is a shining light for everyone who knows her. My daughter matured her father from a selfish boy to a hard-working man. She pulled my mother from her depression. She pushed my father further away from alcohol. She has made me a fighter. I fight for her, for me, and I fight for that in which I believe. She has made me devoted; to her, to myself, and to a world that no longer systemically denies women and children justice and protection. Nothing that I do is for me alone. I am her example. I am Mommy. I hope that she pays attention.
She will never see me stop. Through a difficult pregnancy at eighteen, a brief cancer scare at twenty, bills to pay all the while, I made it this far. I made it for her. But I am not finished. While nearly all of my original life-plans have changed, one thing has always remained a beacon on the horizon: law school. I have dreamed of it for most of my twenty-five years. She will not, nor will anyone else, see her mother give up, give in, fall away, or make excuses. She will watch her mother walk to her dreams, become a prosecutor, and fight for those who need fighting for. I pray she takes notice that I have shown every person who has ever told me I can’t that I can. I have allowed nothing to stop me. I am loving, I am strong, and I am exactly who I am supposed to be, going exactly where I am supposed to go, to do exactly what I am supposed to do.