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First Draft with David’s Actual Feedback
1. The blinds were drawn and the AC was on high as I quickly shuffled into a dimly lit, well-refrigerated board room. All eyes were plastered to a spreadsheet projected on the wall at the front of the room. Disappointment, dread, anticipation, and an underlying hint of resentment were the emotions I gleaned from the people seated neatly around the table as I shifted uncomfortably from the sidelines. The country director, a handful of executives, and one conference call device were the center of focus. The sales director was the first to speak, asking a question that was surely a criticism disguised as an inquiry. The tension was noticeably heavy, and I was certain the temperature in the room had changed from arctic to scorching. As the meeting progressed and reports were given, it was obvious that whatever was taking place was not going well.
2. It was my first week in a new job and a foreign country, and this was a weekly sales meeting my new boss had invited me to attend. Eager to learn more about my role in an unfamiliar industry, I gladly tagged along. By the end of the meeting, I was unsure of what I was supposed to learn from this observation. All I knew was that I couldn't help but feel as if I had blindly walked myself into a lion’s den.
3. Three months prior to accepting the position, I spent countless hours agonizing over career choices and the subsequent definition of success post-graduation. Afraid failure meant no turning back, I spoke with several successful individuals who helped me realize that though my specific career direction may at first be unclear, success was often a circuitous journey of self-learning. So when the opportunity to work overseas in the Philippines with DHL came along, it was not just the chance to utilize my language skills that spurred my acceptance. I have always been fascinated with other cultures and had aspirations to work abroad. Although logistics was not the first industry I would have thought of entering, I believed that working overseas would expand my horizons by helping me find the confidence to forge my own path.
4. My induction into freight forwarding was minimal at best. The knowledge gap was wide, and my first exchange was already a stumble. Prior to meeting my boss, Akira, we had communicated solely through email. I discovered, after our first in-person meeting, that I had mistaken her gender. Initial fumble aside, I was eager to prove myself useful while unclear of the direction to begin. Akira was new to a managerial position and was unaccustomed to teaching others, which consequently shaped her reluctance in giving feedback. Trying to navigate the Filipino work culture and the logistics industry itself turned out to be very much a trial by fire. With no guide to help, I took it upon myself to utilize as much as I could from every interaction – in and out of the office – I was constantly integrating new information from trial and error.
5. I subsequently proved to be capable of handling more significant tasks. Due to the structure of our relatively new but small international sales team, I played many roles; I was a sales analyst, interpreter, field salesperson, sales support, and even the personal liaison between other DHL offices and ports in China and Japan. In the beginning, risk and failure were still my main causes of hesitation, but with the support of my boss and a team depending on me as well, I found the courage to move past my own fears. Within half a year I grew more accepting of ambiguity. I learned that with fortitude it turns out that you can get pretty far with just a business card and a foreign accent. There were many highs and lows, but of the countless opportunities afforded to me at DHL, none was greater than the chance to reflect on my journey and clarify where I wanted that journey to take me.
6. Working and living in the Philippines was a transformative and eye-opening experience. Having a glimpse into my neighbors' and co-workers' lives, I gained a deeper appreciation for the numerous things in my life from basic necessities to the accessibility of education. Mostly, I am thankful for the chance to truly understand what motivates me and how important it is to know that I am creating a meaningful difference in the lives of other people. No matter how genuine a client relationship felt, at the end of the day sales was a purely transactional exchange that was as easy to crumble as it was to initiate. I realized that this type of work was neither a good fit for me nor my career goals. This culminated in my decision to not extend my work contract with DHL.
7. On my journey back home, I reflected on how much I appreciated the experience, and how much I had grown because of it. Through my collective experiences, I have affirmed my latent interest in going to law school and joining the legal profession. I have my DHL experience to thank for giving me the confidence to recognize that what matters at the end of each day is not just about how I get results, but why. I believe that the legal system can be an agent for progressive change, and I am enthusiastic about applying what I learn in law school towards effectively helping others.
David’s Critique
Fiona,
Your personal statement is earnest and professional, but it doesn’t yet tell a coherent story. To understand how you could improve this draft, let’s do a paragraph-by-paragraph analysis. Note that I’ve numbered your paragraphs to make it easier for you to follow along.
1. You describe a sales meeting.
I know you want to start with a moment of tension, but this paragraph contains a narrative bait and switch. Your first few sentences hint that the sales meeting is going to be a personal disaster. As it turns out, you’re only auditing the meeting, and instead of a disaster, we get the rather mild, “whatever was taking place was not going well.”
What was taking place, incidentally? I suspect that you’re withholding information about where you are and what you’re doing to ratchet up the suspense, but the lack of specifics might frustrate your reader. I’d orient the reader as soon as possible.
2. You feel that you’ve walked into a lion’s den.
The sales director has asked a critical question, but it’s unclear why the meeting makes you feel as if you’ve walked into a lion’s den.
3. You explain why you took this job in the Philippines.
It’s probably a bad idea to tell the admissions committee that you took the DHL job because you didn’t know what else to do. They might think you’re applying to law school for the same reason—and in this essay, you don’t give them much reason to think otherwise.
4. You explain why the job is difficult.
Every obstacle-overcome essay has two parts: the challenge, and the solution. Here you introduce us to the challenge: no one tells you what to do at your new job. Although that doesn’t sound easy, you don’t dramatize the difficulty.
This kind of essay works best when you can articulate both an external and an internal challenge. For example, the external challenge is trying to satisfy an exacting boss even though no one trained you. The internal challenge is culture shock or homesickness.
5. You overcome the challenge.
This paragraph has a few problems. First of all, you seem to overcome a different challenge than the one you previously posited. Now you’re conquering your fear of failure.
The second problem is that you offer no specifics. What exactly were you afraid of? How and why did you “move past” your fears?
Let’s take a closer look at some of the vague prose. You write, “I learned that with fortitude it turns out that you can get pretty far with just a business card and a foreign accent.” Okay—how far did you get? What did you do? How did you show your fortitude? Again, you write, “There were many highs and lows, but of the countless opportunities afforded to me at DHL…” What was the low? What was the high?
Back up your assertions with examples.
6. You learn that you want to make a difference in people’s lives.
You say that glimpsing your neighbors’ and coworkers’ lives taught you to appreciate your own, but you don’t show us whose life gave you such an insight. In any case, the theme of appreciating your own life after a trip to a third-world country is a personal statement cliché, so I wouldn’t walk down this particular path.
You also try to pivot to law school by saying that the work showed you how much you want to help others. In order to make this more convincing, you’ll need to be more specific. What exactly made you want to help people? How do you envision yourself helping them?
7. You conclude by saying you want to go to law school.
You don’t manage to connect the dots between DHL and law school. Unless you have a compelling reason for applying to law school, it’s best to avoid the question of your motivation altogether.
Next Steps
If you’re sure you want to write about your trip to the Philippines, you’ll have to do a better job of defining the challenge and solution. Try using this template:
- External challenge: (e.g., trying to please an unreasonable boss)
- Internal challenge: (e.g., homesickness, culture shock)
- Solution: (e.g., you realized you had to learn more about Filipino culture before you could please your boss and feel comfortable.)
All that said, I think you should consider other essay topics. I’m interested in the fact that you were able to utilize your language skills in the Philippines, yet you felt culture shock. I also like the idea of learning to accept ambiguity. I wonder if you might be able to incorporate your trip to the Philippines into an essay about your identity.
Let’s brainstorm about this and see what we come up with.
Best,
David
Final Draft
I was raised by a single mother whose struggle with English forced me to speak Mandarin at home and act as a liaison outside. At school, I felt like a cultural diplomat, especially at lunch. I loved the cafeteria’s “American” foods, such as peanut butter and jelly, brownies, and mashed potatoes, yet I also liked my mother’s food. One day, the cafeteria served green beans, and I expected my peers to exclaim over my lunch: raisin rice puffs and leftover zhongzi—steamed sticky rice wrapped in banana leaves—which I had made with my grandparents. But no one exclaimed. My food seemed to grow strange under my classmates’ skeptical gazes. “Are you sure you can even eat those?” asked one boy. That was the last day I brought my own lunch. From then on, I tried to blend in with my peers.
Ironically, I always felt more American when I accompanied my mother on her trips to Taipei, Taiwan. My American attitudes were even more of a giveaway than my American accent. I remember talking to a fruit vendor about the preference of Chinese families for male offspring. My own family illustrates the point: my father left when I was three because he wanted a son. The fruit vendor said offhandedly, while rearranging stacks of sliced mango and dragon fruit, that such a preference is natural. She herself grew up with three older sisters and a younger half-brother who ended up with all of her parents’ affection. Thousands of miles away from America, I felt, for one of the first times, one hundred percent American.
In 2013, I moved to the Philippines for a year to work in freight logistics at DHL. In America, I could speak like a native; in Taipei, I looked like a native. In the Philippines, both my accent and my appearance gave me away. Walking home from work, I was frequently targeted by children who would run up to shove their hands at me, asking for money. A woman at a market told me that she could not offer me a lower price because of my American accent: she was sure I could afford it.
One weekend, I explored the countryside and found myself at a hole-in-wall restaurant in northern Luzon. It was three a.m. Outside, it was pouring as if someone had gutted open the sky. It had been two months since I moved across the globe to work in the Philippines. As I dug into a bowl of plain rice porridge topped with cilantro and a simple five-spice egg, a Chinese dish, I remember feeling surprised at how intensely homesick I felt that night—not for Taiwan or America alone, but for both.
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