I’m embarrassed in retrospect by the statement I wrote when I first applied to PhD programs as a recent graduate from SUNY Binghamton. I was living abroad, in love with what I was doing and with my aspirations, and really excited about being so brilliant and insightful. I wrote something in my first paragraph about how the discipline of Comparative Literature reversed the dispersion of languages represented by the biblical story of the Tower of Babel. I sent a draft to the admissions committee that had once uncritically and blindly awarded me a 20+ year scholarship with room and board: “It’s wonderful,” said Dad. “Marcia Gray says you should use the term ‘multiculturalism,’” Mom mentioned.

My pretentious statement worked, kinda. At least, it wasn’t fatal. I was admitted to two of the five or so programs that I applied to. But today, as a former Graduate Program Director for my department and occasional member of the admissions committee, I’d certainly advise prospective applicants against the approach I took. So here are some suggestions and resources:

Although “personal statement” and “statement of purpose” are often used interchangeably, there is a distinction between the two genres. The FAQ page for applicants to the American Cultures program at the University of Michigan (which requires both) explains:

Our Graduate School application requests a “personal statement,” but I really prefer a statement of purpose. Less personal, more purposeful. 

There’s a lot of advice out there about what a statement should look like. Two of the resources I like are “Writing the Statement of Purpose,” by the UC Berkeley Graduate Division and “Graduate School Applications: Statements of Purpose,” from the best and most comprehensive online resource for academic writing, the Purdue Online Writing Lab (OWL).  According to the first, the Statement of Purpose should have 4 parts. According to Purdue OWL, it should address 4 questions. Here’s what the conversation between them looks like:

You don’t need to make all of the connections suggested by the two-way arrows, but ideally your essay should include each of the parts on the left, and should answer each of the questions on the right. You can use the questions to make sure that the components of your essay are functional, and to decide what material to emphasize and what to eliminate in each of the four parts:

1. In describing your interests and motivations, the question “How are you unique from the other candidates?” can be a filter. If you’re applying to a graduate program in English, then you can bet that a childhood immersed in books won’t set you apart. You might instead treat your love of literature as a premise or assumption. Get more specific – when and how did it occur to you that literary study might become a professional endeavor?
2. Another characteristic that won’t set candidates apart is success in your previous studies. If you did well, you can largely let your transcript speak for itself. (If you have a spotty record, especially within the English major, you may want to give some context.) You may use this section to trace the development of your current academic interests – to address question 3, and set up your answer to question 4.
3. You may have relevant extra- or post-curricular activities to tell us about – perhaps you already work in education, or in publishing, or in some related field? – or perhaps not. Does the description of your current activities address any of the 4 questions? If not, you may minimize or eliminate this component. It’s perfectly OK to stick to academics.
4. This part is really important; it should indicate what you hope to study and why our program is a “good fit” for you. We care about “fit” as well, and your account of your academic interests is an important criterion in sorting out our finalists from our semifinalists. We only admit candidates whose intended specialization we’re able to support. So I have several points:
   1. If you refer to individual faculty members, don’t just demonstrate that you’ve spent a few minutes looking at the website. Be specific and substantive – “I’m especially excited about Dr. Santa Ana’s work on transnational cultural memory, because…”
   2. If you’re not sure if there’s a potential match for your interests among our faculty, it’s perfectly appropriate to email the graduate program director or individual faculty members with an inquiry. We have information that isn’t available on the department website, such as who may be coming or going, who might not be able or willing to take on new students, and who might be developing a new research interest that s/he would be excited to share.
   3. In describing your own interests and what you hope to do in graduate study, it’s a good idea to find a pitch that’s somewhere between the extremes of complete flexibility and generality, at one end, and single-mindedness and specificity, on the other. It can be really useful to say that you’re really interested in early American studies and the digital humanities, and would like to develop a research agenda that integrates those fields. It’s less appealing if you describe your planned dissertation; a predetermined dissertation project indicates that you’re not open to advisement.
   4. If you’re not sure about your intended specialization, it’s fine to say so. We expect applicants to have some ideas about what research they hope to pursue, but the statement of purpose is not a contract. We anticipate that some students will change fields, sometimes radically (from contemporary American to early modern British, for example) as they work with our faculty and discover new interests.
   5. Remember, when imagining yourself in our program, to use the conditional mood: “I would do the advanced certificate in cultural studies…” The use of future tense (“I will) comes across as presumptuous.

Like all academic genres, the personal statement has relatively fixed conventions for organization and content that readers expect writers to follow. Upon completion of your graduate studies, if you pursue an academic career, you’ll be confronted with a similar genre, the so-called “job letter:” a pretty strict two-page template, with each paragraph designated for a particular purpose, within which the candidate is expected to demonstrate his or her originality and excellence. Don’t try to redefine the genre, but do try to use it as a medium for sincere personal expression.

Of course, your statement is also a writing sample, and a poorly written one is probably a fatal flaw in a selective application process. Vet it with people who are able and willing to give critical feedback (a category that may or may not include your parents). The sooner you can begin drafting it, the better. Professors who are writing letters of recommendation often appreciate having a draft of the statement of purpose to work with, and they are well positioned to comment.  Don’t forget to read it out loud. Even better, have someone read it to you, or record it and play it back. Does it sound like you?