This is part 1 of a 2 part series of advise on writing a great statement of purpose. It has been wrriten by Prof. Vince Gotera of University of Northern Iowa, and we got access to it from this blog. The Statement of Purpose required by grad schools is probably the hardest thing you will ever write. (Incidentally, the statement of purpose may also be called an Application Essay, Objectives for Graduate Study, Personal Background, Cover Letter, or some comparable title.)

I would guess virtually all grad-school applicants, when they write their first draft of the statement of purpose, will get it wrong. Much of what you have learned about writing and also about how to present yourself will lead you astray. For example, here’s an opening to a typical first draft:

I am applying to the Master of Fine Arts program in creative writing at the University of Okoboji because I believe my writing will blossom at your program since it is a place where I will be challenged and I can hone my writing skills.

How’s that? It’s clear, it’s direct, and it “strokes” the MFA program, right? Wrong. All of it is obvious and extraneous.

The admissions committee knows you are applying to their MFA program because everyone in the stacks of applications they are reading is applying for the same thing. The admissions committee will also know that your writing will “blossom” there since they feel they have a strong program. Of course you will be challenged — all undergrads going on to a grad program will be challenged, no matter how well-prepared they think they are. And of course the new grad student will “hone [her] writing skills” — isn’t that the main purpose of the MFA program?

Let’s assume the required length of this particular program’s statement of purpose is 300 words. Well, with this opening you will have used up 15% of your space saying virtually nothing. 15%!

In fact, not only is this opening paragraph obvious, extraneous, and space-stealing, it’s boring! Imagine who’s reading this and where: five professors “locked” in a room with 500 applications. Do you think this opening paragraph will command their attention? Will they read the rest of this statement of purpose with an open mind that this applicant is the kind of student they want? Will they remember this application later? You be the judge.

Remember what you learned in first-year composition? You need a “hook.”

A former student of mine applying to enter a master’s program in library science had a great hook. I don’t remember Susan’s exact words, but the opening paragraph of her statement of purpose went something like this:
When I was eleven, my great-aunt Gretchen passed away and left me something that changed my life: a library of about five thousand books. Some of my best days were spent arranging and reading her books. Since then, I have wanted to be a librarian.

Okay … it’s clear, it’s direct, it’s 45 words, and, most important, it tells the admissions committee about Susan’s almost life-long passion not just for books but for taking care of books. When the committee starts to discuss their “best picks,” don’t you think they’ll remember her as “the young woman who had her own library”? Of course they will, because having had their own library when they were eleven would probably be a cherished fantasy for each of them!

Suppose Susan had written this opening paragraph instead:

I am honored to apply for the Master of Library Science program at the University of Okoboji because as long as I can remember I have had a love affair with books. Since I was eleven I have known I wanted to be a librarian.

That’s 45 words too. Do you think the admissions committee will remember this application among the 500 applications they are wading through? Probably more than half of the applications, maybe a lot more than half, will open with something very similar. Many will say they “have had a love affair with books” — that phrase may sound passionate until you’ve read it a couple of hundred times.

All of us have had some event, some experience, like my student’s personal library at eleven, which drives us toward the discipline(s) we inhabit. I was speaking to a group of students recently about this. One student — let’s call her Jennifer — said she wanted to get a master’s degree in speech therapy. When I asked her why, Jennifer said she had taken a class in it for fun and really loved it. But then I pressed her: was there some personal reason she found that field significant enough to spend her whole life doing it? At first Jennifer said no, but after more questioning she revealed that her brother had speech problems. This was a discovery to her; she had not entered the field with that connection in mind — at least not consciously. But there it was; Jennifer now had her hook.

You have to really dig. Be introspective. Don’t settle for “I love this field.” Why do you love this field? Why do you want to work in this field for the rest of your life? Why does it complete you? Cut through the bull you tell your parents and relatives and friends. What is your truth? Find it and then find a memorable way to say it. Grad schools require the statement of purpose not only because they want to find about you as an applicant, they want you to really think about why you are taking such a life-changing step — truly and profoundly why.

Okay, back to the scene of the five professors surrounded by stacks of applications, maybe more than 500. Do you know who they are? What they want? What they like to eat? Obviously, no. Conversely, do they know you? Well, no. But … the statement of purpose is your chance to help them get to know you! Your statement of purpose should portray you as a person, not just an application among hundreds of others. Not just paper and ink.

Here’s one way to do it. When I was an undergrad senior first applying for grad schools, I knew a grad student — I’ll call him Nigel — who told me he had written a three-sentence statement of purpose to get into Stanford:
I want to teach English at the university level. To do this, I need a PhD. That is why I am applying.

That was the whole thing. That’s only half of 45 words. It certainly portrays Nigel as brash, risk-taking, no-nonsense, even arrogant. If this is how you want to portray yourself, then by all means do this. But you should also know that Nigel’s statement of purpose is an all-or-nothing proposition. You can bet there will be members of probably any admissions committee who will find Nigel’s statement of purpose offensive, even disrespectful. And they might not want such a student at their school. But then I suppose Nigel wouldn’t want to be a student at that school, either. (Image credit: manipal university - manipal.edu)