by Stranger » Sun Jun 03, 2018 9:55 am
Cycle: 2017-18
Stats: 173/2.52
WE: 10+ years, mostly in insurance
Softs: Management/executive level nonprofit experience, and as the PS shows, farming and living off-grid
Applied to: Columbia (R), Penn (R), Michigan (R), UVA (W), Duke (R), Northwestern (W), Cornell (R), Texas (R), Vanderbilt (W), Wash U (A/$0), Minnesota (W), Emory (PW), Alabama (W), ASU (A/$$), W&L (A/$$$), Georgia (W), Wake Forest (W), South Carolina (A/$$)
Decision: W&L
Notes: This personal statement spends very little time addressing the question of "Why Law?" - this was a deliberate choice, and a gamble. As a super splitter, I wanted to make sure my PS was something that would stand out, and wagered that many folks would be flooding admissions offices with "Why I want to be a lawyer" essays. As we've heard from Spivey, the answer to that question carried a higher value this year, and I suspect this led to some waitlists I might otherwise have seen as acceptances. I'm happy with my result, but wanted to clarify that this PS is not a shining example for future applicants. It was good enough, but could have been much better if I had chosen a strategy in line with the admissions cycle this year.
Spoiler:
We hadn’t counted on the mud, but it was everywhere. That first night, we slept in a dome tent set on nearly the only dry patch of ground we could find, wrapped in every blanket available. By the December 29th closing on our dozen acres of rural land in Fairfield County, South Carolina, my wife and I had already rewritten our relocation plans twice. After searching for a house with acreage, then considering an RV, we took out a loan from our credit union for slightly less than the RV would cost. That gap led us to get creative: we decided to build our own small dwelling and live off-grid. Researching our options, we would get the most out of a platform tent the size of a dorm room. The savings left us with money for a composting toilet, fencing, a rabbit barn, and solar power system, while the tent came with a wood stove. The first day at the new homestead was lost to endless supply runs, our driveway growing ever muddier, until we grew careful where we parked the truck.
On the second day, we seasoned our wood stove with an old cedar fencepost and chose a site for the platform tent, which only required cutting down one tree. It was the only relatively clear, flat terrain outside of the badly rutted driveway. We had planned to rest our platform on concrete blocks, but the hard, winter ground made it clear that digging to put them all on the same level was out of the question. The new plan involved using posts to raise the platform, and that redesign meant all our notes and diagrams were useless. We assembled the first bits of a deck frame, but even with a generator and floodlight, we found the frigid darkness too much, and turned in, filthy and exhausted.
We built with a frenzy in the morning light. I cut pipes while my wife built out the frame. We finally laid deck boards as the sky grew dark, only taking the time for a couple screws in each. Raindrops started to fall as we placed the final boards. Soldiering on, we forced together the upper angle of the tent frame. The pipes fell apart whenever we moved to secure another joint, but the dozen fittings finally linked together on the deck, and we dragged the heavy tent canvas over top of them. Huddled beneath under our blankets and sleeping bags, we drifted off to sleep well before midnight to rhythmic rain on the canvas, forgoing traditional New Year’s festivities.
By the next night, we raised the tent to its proper height, attached the fly, installed the wood stove, and set up the composting toilet. In a few days, the deck was secured and the perimeter fence up. The rabbits came down within the week, and we raised their barn, spread gravel for parking, then installed our solar power system. Gradually, we cleared trees and added comforts like a propane stove, lofted bed, and lights and automatic water for the rabbit barn. In our first six months in the woods, I did duty as an impromptu carpenter, electrician, plumber, lumberjack, and farmer. I drove to remote locations to trade for alfalfa and rain barrels, to process and sell rabbit meat, and to search for places to fill water jugs. I fought drafts trying to creep into our tent and chill my bones for months, then rejoiced when I opened the rear flaps and swept out the heat with an evening breeze.
Life on the fringe of ordinary society has made me conscious of my resource consumption and the role of technology in my life. Flashlights gave way to oil lamps, Oxfords to work boots, and air conditioning to wind and shade. The home we built in this small tent attuned me to the glow of sunlight, starlight, and moonlight, the smells of smoke and rain, the distant rumble of freight trains, and the baying of coyotes. My fresh perspective also came with a career restart – which, while humbling, left me free to choose a return to school. I had always considered law to be the most natural progression from studying philosophy, as law assembles the concepts and theories of ethics into a structured and concrete reality. After talking over the decision with my family, I was convinced it was time to commit. With the flexibility and determination the past year has taught me, I stand prepared for the rigors of pursuing a Juris Doctorate. This tent has required me to learn more, and more quickly, than at any other time in my life, and I am ready to bring that to the classroom. My boots are in the mud, my eyes are on the stars, and I will give this new path my best efforts.
Cycle: 2017-18
Stats: 173/2.52
WE: 10+ years, mostly in insurance
Softs: Management/executive level nonprofit experience, and as the PS shows, farming and living off-grid
Applied to: Columbia (R), Penn (R), Michigan (R), UVA (W), Duke (R), Northwestern (W), Cornell (R), Texas (R), Vanderbilt (W), Wash U (A/$0), Minnesota (W), Emory (PW), Alabama (W), ASU (A/$$), W&L (A/$$$), Georgia (W), Wake Forest (W), South Carolina (A/$$)
Decision: W&L
Notes: This personal statement spends very little time addressing the question of "Why Law?" - this was a deliberate choice, and a gamble. As a super splitter, I wanted to make sure my PS was something that would stand out, and wagered that many folks would be flooding admissions offices with "Why I want to be a lawyer" essays. As we've heard from Spivey, the answer to that question carried a higher value this year, and I suspect this led to some waitlists I might otherwise have seen as acceptances. I'm happy with my result, but wanted to clarify that this PS is not a shining example for future applicants. It was good enough, but could have been much better if I had chosen a strategy in line with the admissions cycle this year.
[Spoiler]We hadn’t counted on the mud, but it was everywhere. That first night, we slept in a dome tent set on nearly the only dry patch of ground we could find, wrapped in every blanket available. By the December 29th closing on our dozen acres of rural land in Fairfield County, South Carolina, my wife and I had already rewritten our relocation plans twice. After searching for a house with acreage, then considering an RV, we took out a loan from our credit union for slightly less than the RV would cost. That gap led us to get creative: we decided to build our own small dwelling and live off-grid. Researching our options, we would get the most out of a platform tent the size of a dorm room. The savings left us with money for a composting toilet, fencing, a rabbit barn, and solar power system, while the tent came with a wood stove. The first day at the new homestead was lost to endless supply runs, our driveway growing ever muddier, until we grew careful where we parked the truck.
On the second day, we seasoned our wood stove with an old cedar fencepost and chose a site for the platform tent, which only required cutting down one tree. It was the only relatively clear, flat terrain outside of the badly rutted driveway. We had planned to rest our platform on concrete blocks, but the hard, winter ground made it clear that digging to put them all on the same level was out of the question. The new plan involved using posts to raise the platform, and that redesign meant all our notes and diagrams were useless. We assembled the first bits of a deck frame, but even with a generator and floodlight, we found the frigid darkness too much, and turned in, filthy and exhausted.
We built with a frenzy in the morning light. I cut pipes while my wife built out the frame. We finally laid deck boards as the sky grew dark, only taking the time for a couple screws in each. Raindrops started to fall as we placed the final boards. Soldiering on, we forced together the upper angle of the tent frame. The pipes fell apart whenever we moved to secure another joint, but the dozen fittings finally linked together on the deck, and we dragged the heavy tent canvas over top of them. Huddled beneath under our blankets and sleeping bags, we drifted off to sleep well before midnight to rhythmic rain on the canvas, forgoing traditional New Year’s festivities.
By the next night, we raised the tent to its proper height, attached the fly, installed the wood stove, and set up the composting toilet. In a few days, the deck was secured and the perimeter fence up. The rabbits came down within the week, and we raised their barn, spread gravel for parking, then installed our solar power system. Gradually, we cleared trees and added comforts like a propane stove, lofted bed, and lights and automatic water for the rabbit barn. In our first six months in the woods, I did duty as an impromptu carpenter, electrician, plumber, lumberjack, and farmer. I drove to remote locations to trade for alfalfa and rain barrels, to process and sell rabbit meat, and to search for places to fill water jugs. I fought drafts trying to creep into our tent and chill my bones for months, then rejoiced when I opened the rear flaps and swept out the heat with an evening breeze.
Life on the fringe of ordinary society has made me conscious of my resource consumption and the role of technology in my life. Flashlights gave way to oil lamps, Oxfords to work boots, and air conditioning to wind and shade. The home we built in this small tent attuned me to the glow of sunlight, starlight, and moonlight, the smells of smoke and rain, the distant rumble of freight trains, and the baying of coyotes. My fresh perspective also came with a career restart – which, while humbling, left me free to choose a return to school. I had always considered law to be the most natural progression from studying philosophy, as law assembles the concepts and theories of ethics into a structured and concrete reality. After talking over the decision with my family, I was convinced it was time to commit. With the flexibility and determination the past year has taught me, I stand prepared for the rigors of pursuing a Juris Doctorate. This tent has required me to learn more, and more quickly, than at any other time in my life, and I am ready to bring that to the classroom. My boots are in the mud, my eyes are on the stars, and I will give this new path my best efforts.[/spoiler]