university

4 Things I Learned Reading My Law School Admission Essay

Ivan Education, Law, Reflection , , , , , , , ,

Before I graduated law school, I asked the admissions coordinator for a copy of my law school admission essay. My request came as a surprise.

“Not many people ask to see those,” she said. “Are you okay?”

I told her not to worry. I was just wondering why I originally applied to law school. The thought came to me after reading an article that compared University of Toronto law school admission essays to what those eventual lawyers really did. The article contrasts high ideals with “the reality” in large corporate law firms.

“Did my motivations change?” I wondered.

When I looked through the cloud for my old application essay, I couldn’t find it. Somewhere in the five years, two laptops, and multiple cloud services I used since applying it had gotten lost. Our administrator was kind enough to give me a copy. Reading my law school application essay was one of the most important things I did before graduating.

desktop

For anyone unfamiliar with law school, the admissions essay or “personal statement” is every applicant’s one chance to tell their story. It’s completely unstructured, often with no page limits or guidelines. The blank page stares back and says, “Tell me about yourself. Why do you want to go to law school?”

After half a decade, I didn’t expect my application essay to still ring true. A lot happened in the five years since I had applied. Wikileaks was just unfolding. Snowden. The Boston bombings. China also surpassed Japan as the world’s second-largest economy. It’s hard to say how much those events influenced me. In that time I had also completed two graduate-level degrees, made mistakes, and learned a lot about myself.

When I read my law school application essay I learned four things:

  1. Passion is about action. When I wrote that original essay, there were a lot of things I could have talked about. I could have talked about big issues, world events, or the importance of a legal education. My passion really shone through when I talked about action. What I did spoke far louder than anything I could have said. Taking on early roles as a community leader, mediator, researcher, and writer showed I already had a passion for doing what lawyers do–even if I didn’t really know what it was like to be a lawyer.
  2. Vulnerability is as important as strength. Law school admission essays can be awful to read. It can be very difficult to read someone else promote themselves. When all that’s presented is strength, we want to turn away because it’s not real.  After reading my essay, I thought the best part was my struggle (and eventual failure) to learn Japanese. Addressing failure helps us stay human. It helps us show our resiliency. And it makes us trustworthy. Nobody is perfect, and I’m glad I didn’t try to be.
  3. The only way to know “what you want to do next” is past experience. Ever heard someone complain that they’re not sure what they want to do for an education, a career, or a next move? That was me before I came to law school. I wasn’t sure if law was really for me, and my uncertainty comes through in my writing. The only information I was proceeding on was from past experiences. Not everyone has known what they want to do since they were born. I certainly didn’t. For most of us, “what to do next” comes from past experience. We need to constantly try new things to learn about ourselves to calibrate our compass for the way forward.
  4. Our most difficult moments define us and refine us. Strangely enough, I was encouraged to become a lawyer by my first tough experience in university. I had to find an apartment off-campus when all my friends were moving into residence; I had forgotten to hand in my housing forms on time. Two things happened after I moved into an apartment off-campus: (a) I became much more social and outgoing on campus. (b) I found out how to break my lease legally by researching the Residential Tenancies Act. That early experience could have made me give up. I could have stayed isolated off campus and stayed put. Instead, the experience forced me to grow.

After reading the essay, I was relieved to learn my motivations for going to law school hadn’t changed. I still want to use law to be a leader in my community.

If you’re in law school, I highly recommend you read your admission essay before you leave. It never hurts to re-calibrate your reasons for pursuing a long-term commitment. If you’re not in law school, but you’re thinking about committing to something or someone or somewhere for years, you should try writing a personal statement.

Leave a comment if you do read your admission essay. What does it say?

Failure Should Be a Graduation Requirement

Ivan Reflection , , , , , , , , ,

Every university and high-school student should be required to fail one course before graduating.

It’s easy to focus on achievement, and reward those who meet (or exceed) expectations of performance.  Our school system feeds its success obsession using standardized tests, pass rates, and college admissions as a measurement of its effectiveness.

The problem is that many of the highest achievers graduate without ever being challenged.  They never learn how to take risks and fail.

Failure Hitting the Ground

The pressure to have high pass rates have made it tough to actually fail in Ontario high schools.  I’m not saying we should celebrate the failure to show up to class, or failure from a total lack of effort.

Real failure is about trying your hardest, and still not making it.

If every student were challenged to that level, we’d have the opportunity to teach real life lessons.  How to ask for help.  How to come to terms with your weaknesses.  How to push on when you feel like giving up.

With admission averages to many competitive Ontario university programs continuing the “upward spiral” that began over a decade ago, it’s no wonder students are allergic to failure.

At my alma mater, the University of Waterloo, you only have a 40% chance of receiving an admission offer to civil, mechanical, or software engineering if your high-school grade point average (GPA) is between 85 and 90%.  If your GPA is between 91 and 95%, the probability of being admitted jumps to 85%.

I’m not an engineer, and frankly, I would have never been able to make into a program at Waterloo if I had applied.  Even with such high admission averages, Waterloo was failing an average of 20% of its first-year engineering classes.  This bothered people so much they suggested making changes to the first-year curriculum in 2010.

As a residence don for 1st year engineers at Waterloo, I witnessed first-hand what failure would do to some of those 18-year olds.  Adult responsibility for their own learning hit many of them like a truck.  Some reacted by doubling down and studying seriously for the first time in their lives.  Others escaped into virtual worlds online.

For those of us who overcame it, failure was the best lesson of our lives.  My first lesson with failure didn’t come until I took a Japanese course for credit, and was blown out of the water by classmates who had studied it as a second language in Hong Kong and China.  Failing test after test taught me how to push myself harder, to ask for help, and how to take responsibility for something marked with the letter “F.”

If every school required students to fail at least one course, it would make failing okay.  Students would be encouraged to take risks, and get seriously challenged without the risk of their average slipping to an unacceptable 89%.

To have the F count as course credit, the student should have to (1) reflect on why the failure happened, (2) make a plan to overcome it by using all the resources at their disposal, (3) develop a “plan B” if their first plan doesn’t work, (4) follow through with the plan, and (5) reflect on the experience.

What do you think?  Would this ever work?  Would this have enriched your overall experience in school, or should we wait until people graduate before they’re allowed to fail?

Looking back at 4 Years of UW Co-op

Ivan Education , , , , , , , , , ,

 

Map of the University of Waterloo in Waterloo Ontario Canada

For many students at the University of Waterloo, the third weekend of class is spent applying to co-op jobs for their next 4-month semester.  Thousands of students polish up their resumes and log onto JobMine (our campus co-op job posting server) to look for opportunities that resonate with them.  This past weekend I did the same thing, but this semester is a little different.  Fall 2010 will be my last co-op term before I graduate.

Looking back at my experiences with co-op, I sometimes wonder what my degree might have been like without it.  It’s hard to imagine, because co-op has been such a huge part of my university experience.  Here are a few reasons why I think co-op is so essential – and why I can’t imagine having an education without it.

Interview IQ

Some of the greatest opportunities available to us in life require an interview – but how often does the average person get to practice interview skills in real life?  Answering questions appropriately, dressing to impress, and preparing intelligent questions are all difficult skills to master by studying theory alone.

Co-op students may have up anywhere from 5-15 interviews every academic semester, both in person and on the phone.  Completing a battery of three interviews in one day between classes, projects and presentations isn’t rare.  Interviews have taught me how to present myself professionally to not only potential employers, but also clients and business partners – an important skill I’ll use for the rest of my life.

Learning How to Hit the Ground Running

In just 4 months, co-op students have to learn a new job quickly so we can become productive as soon as possible.  Unless employers have a strong co-op orientation program, it’s usually left up to us to learn on the job.  In a new environment, we need to quickly integrate into a new work culture and master new skills depending on what is expected of us.

One thing every student learns at university is how to learn.  Each academic semester and work term builds a portfolio of professional skills we can draw on, and we always keep learning new things.  The Microsoft Office suite quickly becomes second nature to most co-ops.  Programming languages are practiced and picked up, as are soft skills like writing effective emails and telephone etiquette.

It’s often said that most 21st century professionals can expect to change their career at least once in their lives.  Knowing how to quickly adapt to new environments allows co-op students to embrace these changes and succeed no matter where they go.

Clarifying Career Goals and Objectives

Entering university, every student has lots of ideas about what they might be one day.  Co-op work terms help clarify those goals with each 4 month experiment.  Trying different industries, work cultures, and company sizes helps university students discover their passions before they graduate and commit to a full time job.  If they are lucky, a co-op may stumble on their dream job half way through their degree and return once they graduate.  The diverse group of people we meet in each workplace helps us find both role models and people we never want to be.

In essence, co-op helps define our ideal career by letting us try up to six different ones.  And that has helped me define my own career path, starting April 2011.