The Law Teacher
Past Imperfect: Personal Statements Can Renew Motivation,
by David Dominguez, Brigham Young University Law School
"I can see now that as I read even
these words they have a much different tone than those of
my personal statement. Words such as compartmentalize, organize,
efficient would never have been used to describe my life, yet they
appropriate now. . . .I learned early in my first-year training
that emotions or feelings
for the people involved in the cases would be only a hindrance and
take my focus away from
spotting the issue and applying the relevant rule. Thus the people
I was reading about took
on a two-dimensional nature because they didn't seem real -- I had
no emotion for them.
It is this emotion that I long for, that I need to make me whole."
Students submit as part of their law
school application a personal statement that explores life-changing
events, describes the influence of key people, and explains why
the applicant wants to become a lawyer. With the admission decision
hanging in the balance, applicants craft their words very carefully.
Indeed, the essay represents many
hours of self-study, revealing priorities and personal goals. Yet
for all of its potential value toward
sustaining academic discipline and improving legal pedagogy, it
is used by the admissions committee
principally to verify writing ability and to promote diversity in
the entering class. Having served its
purpose, it is filed away.
Revisited effectively by the law teacher,
a student's personal statement can be an excellent motivational
tool and a powerful educational resource. In the former capacity,
it keeps the student mindful of original ideals; in the latter role,
it prompts the law teacher to turn diverse life backgrounds into
a new source of instructional material.
"Reading through my personal statement
first time [in three years] left me feeling
both empty and complete. The emptiness I felt
was for the person I was before law school,
the idealistic individual who wanted to make a
difference. . . .Looking back my first
reflection was that law school robs or strips
people of these goals. The whole first year of
law school I felt beat down, confused, and
You have probably wondered, as I have,
what more we can do to help second- and third-year law students,
often appearing jaded and cynical, to reclaim the initial excitement
they felt for legal study. Where is a match to reignite "fire
in the belly"?
On the first day of class, I ask students
what factors contribute to the optimal learning experience. Students
are quick to cite natural intelligence as a key factor, but they
soon add that discipline and motivation are just as important. Being
smart is a big plus, they say, but no
more so than the will to excel and good study habits. Pressing on,
I ask whether there was a time when they were convinced that becoming
lawyers mattered so much that they were prepared to give unrelenting
commitment to legal education. As they ponder that question, I tell
answer is "yes" and that I can prove it in their own words.
Puzzled looks turn to surprise and then
sheepishness as I inform the class that I have reviewed each of
their personal statements and have with me a copy of their essays.
I read excerpts, many of which speak eloquently to the denial of
justice and the need to press forward in the struggle for equality.
I recite from their papers the pervasive theme that the study of
law will benefit not
only themselves but their "people," their family and friends.
I remind them of the zeal they once had to make a positive difference
in race and gender relations, to stop the shaming of the poor and
outcast, to lend an ear to the unpopular voice.
I then jolt them by announcing that I
will distribute to them a copy of their personal statement and that
the first paper assignment is to write an updated personal statement.
They are to carefully examine the discrepancy between how they imagined
law school would deal with their statement. They are to carefully
examine the discrepancy between how they imagined law school would
deal with their ideals and what in fact law school has done in that
regard. As they critically reflect on written promises they made
to themselves, would the person they once were recognize the person
they have become? Why have they gone back on their word -- and at
"[T]he applicant I once was would
because she was hopeful and good. Conversely,
I no longer recognize the applicant's positive
[outlook], idealism, and hope for change.
Perhaps this is merely the result of
maturation. . . .[T]he legal educational
process does engender cynicism,
disillusionment, the baseness of human nature,
and intellectual and emotional exhaustion from
constantly conforming to the status quo."
Students report that engaging in this
introspective exercise is so unexpected and strange that they do
not know how to proceed initially. They tell me that they feel disoriented,
as though pulled away from a myopic focus on legal rules to once
again behold a broad social vision. Taking this sobering look at
where they are in light of where they thought they would be, most
students discover that they would apply themselves eagerly to academics
were deeply felt convictions at stake instead of mere concepts.
They would study harder and take classes more seriously were law
school instruction tied to something more important than a final
"In some ways my personal statement.
.show[ed] my strong idealistic convictions. .
. .I assumed that such aspirations were worthy
and valuable to the law school community. 'Not
so!' said my first year of law school. 'The only worthy aspiration
for a law student is
top-ten grades, law review, and an important
and lucrative job with a large firm.' I
suppose I was and am a little disillusioned
with the law school culture."
"I have felt a tugging between my
convictions of wanting to really make a
difference and the use of [legal] knowledge to
help people, with the more selfish extrinsic
conventions of what 'success' really is. I
don't understand at this point what I want. I
don't understand where I fit in and where I
will be satisfied with my personal
aspirations. . . .My first year tended to tear
me down in many ways."
At this point, revisiting the personal
statement becomes a double-edged sword. Once students are challenged
to summon and strengthen their heartfelt resolve to become excellent
attorneys, the attention shifts to the law teacher. Is the professor
prepared to take full educational advantage of
students' profound and diverse reasons to excel? Will the instructor
do what is necessary to sustain motivation, reforming law school
pedagogy to affirm and integrate the beautifully worded aspirations
recorded in the personal statements?
This brings us to the second day of class
and the use of the personal statements as an educational resource.
Students arrive with their newly revised personal statements in
hand. The mood swing from the first hour is dramatic. With the instructor
looking into their faces, it is as though their first-day expressions
-- pensive at best, withdrawn at worst -- are now alert and bright,
as though a new source of light were shining upon them. Students
use other similes, such as it feels like a
tightly shut window has been pried open and a fresh breeze has blown
in, reinvigorating parts of them that had fallen asleep.
"[O]ne year of law school has actually
feel less confident. . .push[ing] my deepest
emotions toward discouragement, fear, and
intimidation. . . .But when I ponder the many
other people (particularly family) who are
counting on me. . .I persist and work harder.
My life has become a pattern or example for my
younger siblings and other [minority] children
in the community. . . .My personal statement
stands as it is and as it was written."
I inform the class that we will engage
in an exercise with their updated personal statements that makes
plain the limitations of conventional legal study, sheds light on
additional problem-solving skills that are otherwise neglected,
and sets into motion an instructional pattern
that will improve learning relationships among them. In other words,
I broaden the purpose of their critical reflection, saying that
they revisited their personal statements not only to reinvigorate
motivation but moreover to set the stage for our learning adventure
I begin the exercise by asking students
to list the problem-solving skills that law school training is
sharpening. They note such "left-brained" abilities as
analytical dissection of facts, spotting of relevant legal issues,
selection and application of legal rules, logical argument over
the relative merits of a legal position in light of the facts, advocacy
of policy considerations, and so on. I then ask whether there has
been similar development of other, "right-brained" methods
of processing disputes, especially those relying on intuitive, creative,
empaphic, relational, and spiritual strengths.
"In revisiting my Personal Statement,
amazed at how optimistic I was about what I
could do with my law degree and how I could
'make a positive difference'. . . .As for my
first year of law school. . .I was exposed to
a 'how can I help me and me only' type of
world rather than the 'how can I learn to help
myself and others' type of world that I was
expecting. To put it mildly, this stunned me."
I ask students to consider whether the diverse aspirations recorded
in their personal statements, especially healing social divisions,
could be attained using only logical/intellectual aptitude. Invariably,
that to meet the career goals set forth in their personal statements
they will need to expand traditional law school problem-solving
(i.e., theoretical expertise and rights-based advocacy) with far
better training in
critical reflection, active listening, mediation, goal-setting,
coalition-building, delegation, supervision,
accountability, evaluation, and other interactive skills to manage
To this end, students in pairs introduce each other to the class
as a whole, one asking the other what it felt like to revisit the
personal statement. They are expected to convey accurately what
was shared, and classmates are motivated to listen, echo sentiments,
and offer support.
They find themselves pledging to turn law study in a more healthy
direction. "Our dreams will no longer be ignored," they
say, resolving "to do justice to ourselves and to each other
as our first clients. If we are committed to 'doing the right thing'
in law practice, let's prepare ourselves now, not just intellectually
"[T]hose who are the most respected, and
consequently can do the most good, are not
separated but connected to everyone else. I
need to remember to reach for great heights
while at the same time not just visiting those
below. I must be with them and take them with
me to higher levels. . . .The simple reading
of my Personal Statement has helped return me
to my prior course. . . .I am excited about
the chance to continue to do some
introspection to make those necessary adjustments in my course to
allow me to be an
influential lawyer and to become a better
As a finishing touch, I challenge students to remain true to their
newfound resolve. Specifically, I ask them to
consider preparing a videotape at the end of the term that responds
to the following questions: Were they chosen to address the entire
law school community, what would they say regarding the law school
curriculum and educational process? Would they be able to say that
they were in danger of losing their connection to their deepest
concerns but then recovered, redeeming their ties to ancestry, family,
gender, race, economic class, nationality, and other loyalties?
Would they look back and take pride in reclaiming aspirations expressed
in their revised personal statements?
The personal statement exercise jump-starts a semester-long commitment
to integrate student ideals into
the learning enterprise. We continue capitalizing on their diverse
capabilities by building on the first two days of class, adding
such other interactive experiences as interviews, team assignments,
teaching on campus and in the community, and other forms of fieldwork.
At the start of this fall semester (1997), I was even more ambitious.
I asked students whether they would favor a law school campaign
to persuade faculty members and fellow students of the motivational
and educational value of the personal statement. In light of our
just-completed exercise with their own essays (all excerpts in this
article are quoted from students this semester), they could see
how our first week turned typical classroom relations into the beginnings
of a healthy, integrated community. I asked the 19 students to vote
on whether they wanted to be "counted in" the larger campaign,
"counted out," or were not sure. Fifteen wanted in; three
were not sure; and one was torn between "not sure" and
out." Hence, we are now exploring ways to extend the personal
statement exercise to those outside our
classroom. Dealing honestly and constructively with our diverse,
even opposing agendas and perspectives, we hope to model a compelling
vision of the optimal law school learning process.