PS范文
Sample 1I began hallucinating early Thursday morning. My team and I were halfway finished with what our instructors dubbed “The Long Paddle,” and I could feel my sanity slowly slipping away. A combination of severe sleep deprivation and extreme physical exercise can do that to you. I had not had more than three hours of sleep since “Hellweek” had begun on Sunday afternoon. As I looked around me, I contemplated the extent of my delirium. I was reasonably certain that the Statue of Liberty does not belong in San Diego, and I doubted that the tigers I could see racing along the river shore were real. My ears picked up the sound of our boat’s leader having a heated argument with Jenkins, but Jenkins had quit the team two weeks ago.
Looking around me, I felt reassured seeing the confused expressions on my teammates’ faces. Even though I was stuck in a tiny inflatable boat with six potential lunatics, I at least knew that I was not the only one being affected by the exercise. Hell week. I had been through some incarnation of it during each year of my life, ever since peewee football. But no previous “hell” could compare to the punishment that the United States Navy dishes out during Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL Training (BUD/S). Hell week marks the sixth week of BUD/S, and is a six-day celebration of misery designed to eliminate weak candidates. Only the strong can survive it.
This year’s week of torment was heightened by an untimely cold spell; more than two thirds of our original class had already quit. Running on soft sand beaches while wearing combat boots, getting a facemask full of salt water while lugging twin steel scuba tanks on your back, being soaking wet and covered with sand… these are enough to make most people question their desire to finish the program. But it was the cold that claimed the most victims. We shivered through the nights and well into the mornings, the chill of the air seeping into our very bones. Visions of hot meals and warm beds haunted us; we knew that ending the suffering and the cold was as easy as quitting the program. And quitting was so very east. Simply stand in front of your classmates and ring a silver ship’s bell three times… the temptation was nearly irresistible. But I had set a goal for myself and I knew, even in the midst of that Thursday morning delirium, that giving up was not an option.
The BUD/S program had already made a marked difference in my life. When I first decided to become a frogman, I was not a gifted swimmer or an accomplished distance runner, and I had a slight fear of heights. Over the course of my training, however, I routinely swam six miles into the open ocean and ran upwards of fifteen miles on land, and had jumped out of airplane more than once. Moreover, I gained a sense of confidence in my ability to set and attain goals. I learned that virtually any challenge can be overcome by defining clear objectives, understanding the qualities needed to achieve them, and then systematically overcoming weaknesses and complementing strengths to best approach the task.
For many months I agonized over the decision to attend law school. At this point in my life, I seem to have all I need: a comfortable house in the suburbs, a happy marriage, and a beautiful daughter. My career as an accountant is pleasant, and leaves me enough free time to pursue my hobbies. In short, I could have simply sailed happily through life toward my eventual retirement party. But I realized that to do so would be to set a severe limit upon my potential. I require constant, arduous challenges that demand all of my resources, both physical and mental. I want to contribute more to the world than simply capitalizing on my current company’s success.
I understand fully the rigors associated with studying law, and I am prepared to dedicate as much time as it takes to understand its theories and practices. I believe that certain qualities distinguish a superior law school graduate: dedication to the pursuit of knowledge; the ability to effectively argue and defend an opinion; and the skills to plan, research, and execute a watertight case. These qualities are vital to law, and can also reap extensive rewards in many other areas of life. I am ready, willing, and prepared to accept the challenges I will face during law school, and look forward to forging a successful career, both as a student and as an attorney. Sample 2
Shooting pain races from my taut hamstring to my throbbing big toe, slick with sweat and sliding uncertainly in its pink satin shoe. I struggle to steady my body and unfold my left leg until it brushes past my ear. I look down: chalky minerals stain my leotard, and a combination of dirt and sweat has transformed my formerly pristine tights into drab gray tubes. In the mirror, I see impossibly beautiful ballerinas grip the barre with quaking red and white knuckles as they wage similar, but more successful, battles against their lithe muscles. Somehow, my peers all seem born to be dancers. I ignore the pain in my foot and try valiantly to match their extension.
When the instructor stalks the lines of straining dancers, I anticipate her corrections. I press my shoulders down, arch my airborne foot, force my hips to turn out, and lift the muscles in my center. The instructor pauses to inspect me like a four-star general. I wait, my left leg suspended interminably in développé á la seconde.
"Close your rib cage, " she orders. I shift my scapulae slightly and lift my sternum.
"You're opening your hips, " she observes. I shift from the waist and press my left hip forward. As my hips square, my leg dips to waist level.
"Turn out your leg and lift it, " the instructor orders. I try to obey, but my spent body refuses to cooperate.
"Lift your leg, " she says, "or I'll do it for you." Gritting my teeth, my bones grind as I force my leg beyond shoulder height. I hold the position. Temporarily appeased, my instructor moves to the next dancer.
I was five years old when I began studying ballet. When I was eleven, my parents met with my teachers to discuss my future as a dancer. Although my teachers praised my passion, they speculated that I was not tall or lean enough to be a classical ballerina. Moreover, once my parents learned that professional dancers only sporadically attend high school and seldom advance to college, they stopped supporting my lessons just in case.
Undaunted, I continued dancing. I performed in my living room and practiced in my bedroom. I pirouetted through the grocery store, and stood en pointe while washing dishes. Two years after my compulsory hiatus, I researched several reputable dance studios, calculated the cost of lessons, and petitioned my parents to reinstate my classes. They agreed, as long as my schoolwork did not suffer.
Although my genes may have prevented me from becoming a professional dancer, my education as a ballet student has prepared me for far more than a career in dance. Ever since I resumed training more than eight years ago, I have maintained my passion for the art form even in the face of great pain and frustration. Ballet teachers are notoriously intolerant of defeatism and whining, and I responded to their instruction by skipping the tears and channeling my energy into improving my form and technique.
My determination proved helpful when, during my first few years of college, I struggled in my classes and had difficulty choosing my major. At first, my courses in American history and literature seemed dry. Suddenly, I recognized that what interested me was the interaction between the law and ordinary citizens. I began taking classes that focused on the Constitution and the City Lights obscenity trial, which taught me to recognize the law as a tool that can improve society and shape public life. The sense of accomplishment I felt as I studied timely issues and wrote papers that were praised by my professors reminded me how I used to feel after an artistic performance. Academics and dance are each, in their own way, a product of physical and mental endurance.
Ballet also taught me resilience. Occasionally, a dancer may fall down during class or slip during a performance. A determined student forces herself to continue dancing confidently, as if nothing had happened. During my junior year of college, I found that kind of tenacity particularly useful when, after working in a real estate office for several years, I earned my real estate license only to encounter clients who did not trust someone whom they perceived as young and inexperienced. Some clients, after viewing properties with me, asked other agents in my office to represent them. Rather than slink away in defeat, I attended training seminars and learned the intricacies of the California Association of Realtors' sales contract and representation agreements. I broadened my background by learning about loan options, finance rates, and the pre-qualification process so that I could provide even better service for my clients. I was especially gratified when, during my senior year of college, I earned enough as a real estate agent to be in a position to decline my fourth-year loans. Ultimately, I was glad that my rocky start as a real estate agent didn't dissuade me from practicing in a field that was personally and professionally satisfying. As a law student, I am certain that such determination will be the secret to my success. Sample 3
When I was six years old, I discovered a box of old books in my grandmother’s attic. She let me take them home, and I read every one of them from cover to cover. I was with the protagonist as he rose to meet challenges, made sacrifices, summoned up the strength to persevere, and ultimately exceeded his own expectations. It was several years before I understood Horatio Alger’s role in the context of American literary figures, but in my own life, the example of the Algerian hero gave me indefinite strength when my world changed dramatically, time and time again.
I am not the only person whose parents divorced when he was young, whose father disappeared in every way that mattered, and whose mother worked too much for too little. I am not the only young person who assumed adult worries and burdens. I could have been one of many who chose to settle for something less, but instead I took another road, one that was winding, steep -- and uphill.
My mother’s choice of a second husband proved to be a poor one, so I moved out of our house at sixteen. I commuted 45 minutes to school, worked part-time, played sports, and tried to keep up with my schoolwork. Although I did not realize it at the time, my early experiences working and competing without a safety net at such a young age provided me with a valuable skill set: an unshakable belief in myself and my abilities. I learned to set goals on my own and to prioritize my assignments. I didn’t realize how important these skills would be in the next phase of my journey.
Although I had become entirely independent, my younger brother was still living at home. For that reason, I chose not to accept an athletic scholarship to an out-of-state school and instead attended the local state college. I pursued a joint degree in English and secondary education, worked as a counselor at a residential high school for court-appointed youth, and taught the children of migrant workers during the summers. After traveling for a time in Europe, I attended graduate school at night, worked as a substitute teacher in an inner-city school during the day, and soon landed a full-time position teaching high school English and coaching football in a rural school district. During my second year of teaching, I became engaged to my high school girlfriend and was positioned to live a quiet, predictable life.
Sometimes, the road less traveled provides flashy, unmistakable neon signs. My sign came in the form of a retired coach who visited my football practice one fall afternoon. In that visit, that day, and that man, I saw all the way to the end of my next forty years. In literally one minute, I realized that I needed more, that in forty years, I wanted to be exhausted by my accomplishments and efforts. I realized that I was about to accept a compromise: a life that would provide comfort and stability, but no passion. At the end of the school year, I quit my job, broke up with my fiancée, sold my car, and moved to New York City. I had no contacts and little money, only a burning need to forge a new life for myself.
New York City, while unfamiliar, rough, and strange, quickly validated my notions of ambition. Though my first year was uncomfortable, it was also full of reinvention and self-discovery. I had a knack for communicating with people and motivating them to reach a common objective. At the end of my first year, I was making more money than my father, and that was just the beginning. A year later, a headhunter placed me with a national company as an operations analyst. Within six months, I was promoted to head a large division in Manhattan, and within another year I was overseeing all of the business units in NYC, encompassing 800 employees and $25 million per year in revenue. After a year, I left my job to help build an Internet company with a national presence. As the vice president of operations, I managed all aspects of 50,000-square-foot sites in New York, Boston, Toronto, and San Francisco. At the end of the dot-com whirlwind, I took a project-specific position with Morgan Stanley and the Rockefeller Group, managing and mingling the corporate expectations of two vastly different companies. While I found all of these professional experiences satisfying on many levels, I knew, deep down, that business was not my passion.
As a teacher, I had enjoyed my relationships with students, but my job had provided me with little potential for personal growth; in the business world, I felt that my work was not worthwhile. As I struggled to find the career path that would challenge me the most, I received a letter from a former student, a college graduate working for an advertising agency in Florida. Seven years ago, he had been a diminutive tenth grader, bright and creative, yet insecure and withdrawn. His father was an ex-marine who drank too much and insistent that he should join the Marines right out of high school. I had encouraged him to consider other options, telling him about college programs that might interest him and urging him to listen to his instincts.
When I received his letter nine months ago, I remembered that I had been the boy’s supporter and friend. That is what I would like to be for families and children in distress: a resource and an advocate. Along with my experience working with children, I have a great empathy for people in need. I was lucky enough to make it to college, but not all children are able to find that path without some guidance. In many ways, I have grown up and left the Horatio Alger stories behind me. While they describe fictional events and idealized worlds, my own life experiences have not been nearly so easy. However, the spirit of Alger’s heroes has never left me; I hope to pass it on to other children and teenagers through the legal system. Sample 4
At the age of three, I negotiated a plea bargain in which I admitted to toppling a potted plant in exchange for a more lenient spanking. By the time I was seven, my room held court to makeshift trials for my cats’ misdeeds, in which evidence was presented to a jury of action figures. As I have grown older, my interest in law has only heightened. I have come to see that studying law will serve my desire to utilize my writing and oratory talents, and to ultimately succeed in my long-lived career goal of serving the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Indeed, while looking forward to law school, I cannot help but look back at a number of opportunities I have encountered that at first caused me excitement, and perhaps a bit of trepidation, but in the end taught me far more than I had anticipated.
During the summer between my junior and senior years in high school, I was selected to participate in the governor’s school for French language. The school would sequester me and the other students within the confines of the Virginia School for the Deaf and Blind for three and a half weeks. Only the French language could be spoken. When I arrived, I was dismayed to find that I was in the bottom quarter of the academy in terms of my French ability. I feared that any day, I would be forced to speak at length and revealed as an impostor posing as a fluent French student and escorted away. Fortunately, that never happened, and I instead found myself growing more and more comfortable with the French language. Every day, I forced myself to converse with the native speakers no matter how much of a fool I appeared in the process. At the end of the three weeks, I would wager to say that I spoke French nearly as well as anyone there. However, I ultimately learned a lesson even more important than French: I found out the value of forcing myself to confront my weaknesses and turn them into my strengths.
Several years later, I was faced with an even more daunting task. I had promised my best friends that I would participate in a group “sky dive” as a show of solidarity between us before we graduated from college. Unbeknownst to them, I had a paralyzing fear of heights. As if the dive alone was not sufficiently petrifying, we had agreed to pack each other’s parachutes to illustrate our mutual trust. As we boarded the dilapidated aircraft with wings reinforced by duct tape, I estimated my odds of survival at roughly 50/50. Contrary to all my expectations, it was the most exhilarating ride of my life. I couldn’t have imagined the thrill of 100-mph winds blasting in my face and the sensation of weightlessness while I looked at my hometown from 12,000 feet. I survived, and the friends with whom I fell from the sky remain my best friends to this day. Having another person put their life into my hands showed me the significance of trust, while I discovered that working together can result in an accomplishment in which I would not have succeeded alone.
Today, I view law school as my next sky dive, an intellectual leap into a rigorous, challenging discipline. But I am at my best when I am challenged. Looking back, the personality traits of which I am the proudest, such as my tenacity, integrity, and ability to work as part of a team, were all born from situations in which I initially doubted my talent. Yet today I have no doubt that I will tackle law school courses in the same head-on manner, succeeding just as I have in other avenues of my life. Eventually, I will be the better man and lawyer for it. Sample 5
This is the story of an invisible woman, an invisible Latina with no space to call her own. This is a story about me. I am a Puerto Rican Jew who grew up in New York, and I always felt as though this hybrid background rendered me invisible to both Jewish and Puerto Rican cultures. It wasn’t until I got older that I realized this “transparency” was a product of my own construction and that it is my responsibility to be my own advocate. It was this new responsibility that inspired me to pursue a career in law.
I became culturally aware much earlier than many of my peers. While many people come to appreciate their roots as they get older, I was shocked into reality at a very young age. That I was different from other girls in the neighborhood became painfully obvious when I tried to befriend them, the majority of whom were Jewish. My numerous attempts at friendship met with ostracism, however, and I always felt as though I were on the outside of what seemed to be an inside joke. I realized these girls would never accept me. Their snide comments -- about how my hair was just too curly and how I never got sunburned and how, in contrast to my parents, their parents would never let them get a job while in high school -- made it clear that these young ladies would never let me into their circle. We were just too different, and I knew that no friendship within this group would truly endure. It was easy for them to marginalize me because I did not look or think like them, and all too easily, I allowed myself to become invisible.
Fortunately, I went to school in a highly diverse school district and tried to find a place for myself among my fellow Puertorriqueñas. I assumed they would accept me mainly because we shared similar features: there was no way they could ignore me because I didn’t look like them. Unfortunately, I was wrong. Although we did share the same background, the life experience that my mixed heritage imparted was completely different from that of most of these Latinas. It did not matter that I was going through the same struggles they were -- for example, living with a parent who had some trouble with English. To them, I was just the white girl who occasionally spoke Spanish. One of the clearest memories I have of this treatment was when I attended a meeting of ASPIRA, an after-school group for Latinos. At the meeting, a young man stood up and announced to the group that I was not a "real" Puerto Rican, since I did not fit his particular stereotype of a Puerto Rican woman. Once again, I felt as though I were not welcome in one of my own communities. In my mind I vanished into thin air.
It was not until I had the opportunity to travel to Puerto Rico during my last year of high school that I realized this feeling of being invisible to everyone was my own fault. In Puerto Rico, I felt as though I belonged for the first time. I was just a Puertorriqueña coming to visit. It did not matter what I looked like or where I had grown up. I was just me. Finally, I no longer felt shackled to an image, and I realized that I had allowed myself to be disregarded because I did not subscribe to social images for either Latina or Jewish people. Before, I had never stood up to these stereotypes and tried to change my classmates’ perceptions. Never once did I turn around to anyone and say, “Just because I wasn’t born in Puerto Rico does not mean I am any less Puerto Rican than you, ” or “Just because my skin might be a little darker than yours does not mean I am any less religious than you.” My own complacency was the cause of my invisibility. I have not fooled myself into thinking that standing up for myself would change everyone’s mind -- but I do realize now that not doing anything simply made matters worse.
This revelation was extremely important to me, because it helped me escape the feeling of helplessness. I had discovered the power of speaking my mind and rejecting the status quo. I had discovered the power of objection. Even as I went through college, I encountered people who had preconceived ideas of what a young Puerto Rican or Jewish woman should be. No longer timid, I told each person who judged me how wrong they were and felt liberated in the process. I was ecstatic with my new freedom, and I knew then that I wanted to pursue a career in a field that would give me the opportunity to relive this feeling of elation by challenging established rules and beliefs on a daily basis. I knew then that I wanted to pursue a career in law. Sample 6
My eyes lit up as the image underneath the microscope came into focus. The bacteria sample was distinctly blue -- a definite indication that the gram stain experiment had worked. This was the culmination of countless hours of sample preparation, chemical preparation, washing, rinsing, and heating, all carried out with the aim of discovering a single new fact about the nature of the bacteria in question. Along the way, there were numerous mishaps and frustrations, but the fruits of our ultimate success were that much sweeter because of the effort. Such is the nature of scientific research.
I came to embrace research because it rewarded my creativity, patience, and ability to cooperate with others. Although the two fields may appear unrelated, my work as a researcher has deepened my respect for the legal profession, in particular for those attorneys who champion environmental causes and those who pave the road toward scientific discovery. My desire to practice law stems from this great sense of admiration.
In the fall of my sophomore year, I came across an ad for a research assistant in plant biology lab. The ad explained that the nature of the lab work would involve identifying and using plants and bacteria that could clean up pollutants. I was intrigued by the notion of using a resource as abundant as bacteria to clean up the environment. This was a perfect opportunity to learn as well as work toward a worthy cause. I was so interested in working at the lab that I set up an interview for the very next day.
When I began my work at the lab, I felt intimidated by the curious instruments and gadgets, even by the lab jargon. Within a week, however, I felt completely comfortable in my new surroundings. The real challenge of the research was learning to think logically and to come up with creative solutions to problems. When I was able to solve these problems, however, I felt empowered, knowing that I had approached the dilemma from a novel point of view.
Over the course of my research, I discovered the value of patience. During countless trials of many different experiments, certain elements continually go awry. The gram stain experiment described earlier is a good example, as it involved many steps that needed to be repeated for each individual sample of bacteria. In addition, there were numerous occasions when the experiment did not yield any results and needed to be redone. In such instances, I looked at the trial’s shortcomings as lessons to ensure better results in the future. Repetition, then, was actually a step toward a breakthrough.
My research in science also introduced me to the work of attorneys in the field of environmental law. I learned that the research in the laboratory received grants from a local oil company that was eager to find less expensive methods for cleaning up pollution. The company’s action did not arise out of a genuine desire to make the world a nicer place to live, but instead was motivated by a series of laws that required the company to cut down on the toxic levels of chemicals that were byproducts of the operation of their factory. Thus, the work of the attorneys who enacted these laws was integral to our progress in the laboratory. I was struck by the similarities between my work as a researcher in the laboratory and that of attorneys in a law firm. In addition to creative thinking and patience, the work of an attorney had more frequent human interaction, which was an added bonus. For the first time, I considered the possibility of pursuing a career outside of the laboratory.
After college, I explored areas outside of my original scope of study and gained even more exposure to the legal field. I was surprised to find that the same skills I had learned and developed in the laboratory served me well outside the realm of science. Just after I graduated from college, I worked as an account manager at HotJobs.com as part of a team that addressed client issues. Here again my responsibilities required patience and analytical thinking, though my primary work consisted of negotiating and reasoning with clients.
I continued to explore my interest in the law with my second job, as an office assistant at a low-income legal clinic, where I translated legal terminology for immigrants and also assisted them in completing job applications. Working at the clinic, I had the opportunity to witness first-hand the impact of the legal process on people’s day-to-day lives. I was forced to think about problems analytically and explain terms patiently to an otherwise uninformed clientele. Although the scope of my work was not particularly sophisticated, I derived satisfaction from earning the clients’ gratitude and trust.
While I have come a long way from performing gram stain experiments in the lab, I have discovered new uses for the tools of discovery. My work as a research assistant opened the door to a field I had not originally considered, and all of my work experience since then has reaffirmed my commitment to becoming a member of the legal profession. Sample 7
Being outnumbered twenty to one can intimidate anybody. This is especially true in Officer Candidate School. As one of only five female officers in a class of one hundred, I quickly learned to overcome sexual stereotypes and to assert my authority with finesse. At no other time in my life have I received so much "training" in loyalty, courage, and discipline--nor had to rely so heavily on my own perseverance. By the time I enrolled in this program, my determination had already been tested on numerous occasions, but Officer Candidate School did more than any previous experience to prepare me for academic excellence and intense leadership positions.
Early in life, I realized that education often determines one's fate. My mother, a Dutch immigrant, never completed the fourth grade, and my father barely passed the GED with the help of his Army recruiter. Neither of them went to college, and although they worked very hard, they had very little to show for it. I instinctively knew that I wanted more out of life, and I became determined to do whatever was necessary to get an education.
After graduating from high school in Holland at age sixteen, I faced an important obstacle in my quest for a baccalaureate degree. My father felt that college was a waste of money and refused to support me financially. My mother could not assist me financially, but she did give me something more valuable: her encouragement. With her support, I moved into my own apartment, got a job working fifty hours per week, and enrolled in college full time. I worked from 4:30 A.M. until 3:30 P.M. every day, and I went to school from 6:00 P.M. until 11:00 P.M every night. I do not recall when I slept or did schoolwork, but my determination to put myself through school prevailed.
As busy as I was between work and school, I still found time to do volunteer activities. When I turned seventeen, I joined the National Guard to make a more substantial impact on the community and to do something that would enhance my future. I firmly believed, and still do, that nothing in life is free--including our rights and freedom. Even though the National Guard swallowed an additional weekend each month, I still advanced quickly through school and received strong grades.
By the middle of my sophomore year, I developed an intense desire to exercise my leadership ability. At that time, the National Guard was in need of officers, especially female officers. I applied to the Officer Candidate School weekend program and was accepted. As one of just a handful of women, I was singled out from the very beginning of the rigorous and demanding training process. Furthermore, at a time when female officers did not traditionally go into engineering, I opted to enter the Corps of Engineers upon graduation.
Fourteen months later, eleven of the initial one hundred soldiers received Federal Commissions as Second Lieutenants in the United States Army. I was the only female officer among them. The financial advantages of serving as an officer allowed me to cut back on my work hours and to focus more on school. Finally, after a very demanding journey, I received my bachelor's degree in business.
The perseverance required to pursue my degree and commission is the same perseverance that will ensure my success at the University of Maryland. I am guided not only by my desire to pursue an advanced degree but also by the same reasoning that led me to join the military--I want to serve my community from a position of leadership. My background, which includes service in diverse leadership roles, will allow me to contribute a unique perspective to my class. Few individuals have experienced the responsibility of managing thirty soldiers at age nineteen. Equally few have led a 120-soldier unit in overseas deployment during a time of hostility.
The Army has a saying: "Train as you fight and you will fight as you train." I try to apply this philosophy to my education whenever possible. I have selected the University of Maryland because its law clinics, externships, and mentor program will give me valuable hands-on experience and opportunities to apply what I learn. In my quest to become a lawyer and more successfully serve the community, I will indeed draw upon all that I have learned about accomplishing personal goals. As in Officer Candidate School, I will be focused, motivated, and willing both to train and fight. Sample 8
Halfway through my senior year at the University of Arizona, I was chosen to be the undergraduate representative at "Arizona First," a three-day, bipartisan conference focused on shaping legislation to bring economic growth and prosperity to the state. During the conference, I worked closely with state representatives and senators--the majority of whom were lawyers--proposing legislation to create new job opportunities, more commerce, and an increased standard of living in Arizona.
For the first time in my life, textbooks no longer mattered. I was faced with the weighty challenge of balancing reality with idealism. As the conference progressed, I noticed that the most effective participants were lawyers, not because of superior information or inside knowledge, but because they instinctively knew how to deal with the difficult situations and interactions that arose. The conference taught me to appreciate the interpersonal subtleties of conflict resolution and showed me that I would succeed in a career as a lawyer.
During my last year of college, I experienced the rewards that flowed from academic and intellectual challenges. Although I had the option of graduating with a degree in finance in four and a half years, I stayed an extra semester to obtain a second degree in accounting. The abstract nature of finance and the concrete precepts of accounting have provided me with a wealth of knowledge and the ability to look at problems from both a theoretical and a practical perspective.
By distinguishing myself in both of my academic programs, I was granted the honor of becoming a Professor's Assistant (PA). As a PA, I experienced the extremely rewarding challenge of teaching students in need of special assistance, and I drew upon the people skills that I had learned at the conference. Helping students understand previously foreign concepts is an indescribable feeling, and the work convinced me to pursue a career teaching law.
In my third year of college, I was elected president of Sigma Alpha Epsilon (SAE), assuming full responsibility as the youngest president in our chapter's history. Running meetings, representing the fraternity to the university, and serving as the fraternity's spokesman in the community helped me refine my leadership, organizational, and speaking skills. Before my tenure, SAE was second-to-last in academic rankings among fraternities. After I left, we were number one. For leaving the chapter free of any financial or scholastic probations, I received the "Order of the Phoenix," the highest national award given to a brother for exemplary leadership and zeal.
Transitioning from academia to the professional world, I obtained a position as a summer intern at PricewaterhouseCoopers. Based on my background and experience, I was assigned the role of supervising my assistants during my first audit, a responsibility typically reserved for accountants who have been with the firm for two or more years. Learning to plan and execute an audit has further developed my researching and critical thinking skills, which will enhance my competency as a lawyer.
Despite the professional opportunities and rewards available at PwC, I do not believe that I can reach my full potential intellectually, academically, or professionally in an accounting firm. Public accounting is a noble profession and obtaining my CPA certification will provide me with invaluable skills for dealing with business clients. However, I too often find myself engaging with my clients as an adversary rather than as an advocate. Leaving this field to obtain a law degree will allow me to pursue a career that is more consistent with my dominant personality traits: loyalty and charity.
I look forward to law school as an opportunity to develop my most cherished personal characteristics. As an experienced leader, teacher, scholar, and professional, I have much to contribute to a program in law. My analytical, critical thinking, and interpersonal skills will help me become a competent attorney, and I am anxious to embark on this next stage of my career. Sample 9
It had never occurred to me as a seven-year-old child that skin color could be destiny. I had been blissfully unaware of my origins until schoolyard taunting sent me home crying, questioning my parents about the difference between my sister's skin color and my own. I remember studying their expressions as they explained that they had adopted me. At the age of seven, I did not fully understand the term "adoption," but I realized that I was different. The full implication of this discovery only became clearer with time.
Struggling with the Caucasian culture in which I was raised and the African-American culture with which I was expected to identify caused a feeling of tremendous dislocation throughout my youth. The dissimilarity between the two cultures manifested itself as I attempted to coexist in both worlds--some people considered me not black enough, while others considered me too black. Unfortunately, my adoptive parents failed to consider whether I would have role models or peers in school and church, and they neglected to promote a comfortable environment for me. Eventually, my parents became overwhelmed by the pressures of raising two children and sent me to boarding school while keeping their biological child at home. At age seventeen, after a series of escalating family conflicts, I found myself once again a ward of the court without choices or alternatives.
I shuffled through the "system," becoming a ward of the court, a group home resident, and a member of an independent living program. During each transition, I felt perplexed by the seeming illogic of the process; each placement seemed more socially isolating than the last. For a number of years, I tried to find an explanation for, and meaning in, my past. I gave birth to a child, moved to a new town, and enrolled in community college classes, yet none of these changes brought about the internal resolution that I sought. I went so far as to contact my biological parents, but I only found more questions. After all these rejections and transitions, I realized that my success would depend upon my ability to make independent decisions and trust my inner strength. With this change of perspective, I began realizing ambitions that had long lain dormant.
As a child, I had dreamt of becoming an attorney, but I had felt that such a career was beyond my grasp. As I matured, however, I realized that my unique background afforded me life experience that others did not have. My dreams of becoming a lawyer were consequently rekindled. I knew that success in law school would require practical experience with the law, and I therefore accepted a position with the Missouri Civil Rights Commission as a Civil Rights Investigator. My interracial adoptive background benefited me in this role and made me sensitive to the plights of people who had been deprived of basic rights. I gained considerable self-confidence. Within the first two years of my employment, I was promoted twice and was eventually elevated to the highest investigatory position, Civil Rights Investigator 3.
Drawing on the momentum of my quick career success, I enrolled in the Legal Assisting program at the University of St. Louis. I took classes in legal research and writing, computerized legal research, and administrative law, and I gained important insights that benefited me in my Commission job. While working forty hours per week, I attended school full time, taking between fifteen and twenty-one credit hours per quarter. The more I learned in classes, the better my investigative skills became. My hard work paid off when I received an invitation to join the Commission's Work Redesign Committee and Training Advisory Committee. I was also asked to chair the Process Redesign team, which would be instrumental in changing how the Commission processed discrimination complaints. I coauthored a proposal which, when ratified, would identify outstanding employees and use them as mentors to newly-hired staff, thereby reducing the Commission's external training costs.
The conscientious discharge of my duties led the Missouri Civil Service Employee Association to enlist me as a Steward in its Franklin County Chapter. My research, investigative, and speaking skills proved invaluable as I successfully argued every grievance filed on behalf of my colleagues. The union formally recognized my efforts at a chapter meeting and invited me to join their executive board. These experiences convinced me that I had the aptitude to become a powerful advocate.
Although I felt proud of my professional success, I still realized that I was not living up to my potential. I desired a position in which I could prepare for the rigors of law school and legal practice, which led to my employment as a Legal Assistant within the Office of General Counsel at the University of St. Louis. To date, my work in this capacity has afforded me the opportunity to assist in the preparation of discovery documents, to prepare individuals for depositions, and to view an argument before the Sixth Circuit Appellate Court. I see this experience as the first taste of my future legal career, and I also recognize that my unique life experiences will give me a significant edge in certain areas of law. Having discovered my tenacity, perseverance, and inner strength, I look forward to arming myself with a J.D. and enhancing my skills, knowledge, and credibility as an advocate for all people. Sample 10
My previous trips to Calcutta had not prepared me. I had seen women and children begging on the street for money, but I did not know what to expect as I made my way through Calcutta's twisting, claustrophobic streets. My lungs filled with the delightfully pungent aroma of Indian spices and incense as I turned a corner and faced the gates of Mother Teresa's orphanage.
Entering the premises, I was struck by a curious sight. Children, obviously quite ill, were playing and laughing on the grounds and enjoying the modest toys, which had been donated to them. Infants, thin and malnourished, were clothed in clean, colorful outfits so cheerful that they almost outshone their wearers' concerns. It was a different world from the desperate Calcutta streets I had just left.
The experience was very significant for me. I suddenly realized how a hopeful and optimistic environment could transform even the direst conditions. The children inside the orphanage were no richer than those begging on the street, but they had the benefit of a caring environment, which transformed their poverty-stricken lives into something resembling a normal childhood. There is no solution to, and certainly no justification for, childhood suffering, but it is important that we play our own small roles in consoling and helping young victims of poverty.
Since my initial visit in 1996, I have returned multiple times to Mother Teresa's orphanage to volunteer my time with the children. I have also been involved in helping adolescents with emotional, social, and behavioral problems at the Children's Assessment Centre. Currently, I devote two or three hours to the "Junior Achievement Program" in my city's elementary school by lending my hand, my advice, and my support to the children. These volunteer experiences have given me the chance to improve the community, but I now want to do something more substantial.
I realize that injustice and suffering in the world are too widespread to be solved through volunteer activity. Consequently, I want to attack the roots of these problems and play a more substantial role in the defense of defenseless victims. This is why I am attracted to the law.
The legal profession will draw upon my interest in social justice and give me the chance to aid individuals by offering legal advice. I learned through my work at Mother Teresa's orphanage that commitment to others can lead to great results. I now want to apply this lesson to the law. At first, my practice may only help one person at a time. Eventually, I hope to impact entire communities, cities, and even states.
In terms of career aspirations, I wish to spend a few years after passing the bar practicing law to gain practical experience and to help individuals directly. After that, I want to direct my energies toward teaching the law, since I believe this is the best way to impact the future of society. A single lawyer can help some, but a law professor can inspire generations of jurists to pursue social justice.
I have always been very inquisitive and interested in the pursuit of knowledge for its own sake. As an undergraduate in McGill University's economics department, I wrote a thesis on Islamic banking practices. I chose the topic after encountering an article that claimed that interest rates did not exist in religious Islamic countries. This puzzled me, and I decided to investigate the matter further. Poring through data from the World Bank and the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development, I discovered that such interest rates did exist, but that they were hidden and disguised within other economic transactions. Unraveling mysteries and testing hypotheses against data is the foundation of the legal profession, and I believe that I have the temperament and cognitive capability to excel in such work.
I have gained exposure to the law through my work at the Bank of Canada as an Assistant Manager. Through my role as an investment and credit advisor, I am responsible for ensuring that clients receive the best financial advice possible. This often entails legal research on my part due to the complex legal issues that surround many credit and investment transactions. I have worked closely with the legal department of the bank and have learned a great deal about estate, collection, and repossession law. This work has enabled me to guide my clients more effectively and has also taught me to delegate tasks beyond my competency to more experienced experts in the field. I have seen the law in action, and I am intrigued by the complexity and subtly of this instrument.
My study of the law, and my interest in applying it toward social justice, will be informed by my extensive travel experiences. I have traveled throughout Asia, from the crowded streets of Bangkok to my family's village in Northeast India. I have also experienced Western cultures, from attending university in Canada to studying abroad in Western Europe. These diverse experiences will give me a better perspective on the global implications of my work and will allow me to see how national laws influence the entire world community in the age of globalization.
While I cannot hope to effect as much change as Mother Teresa's orphanage, I nonetheless feel an obligation to try. By studying law and by using it to address social ills across the globe, I will contribute to a society that is more equitable tomorrow than it is today. As a law school student, I look forward to sharing my experiences with my classmates and to learning the skills that will help me help others.
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