So You’re Thinking About Law School—Let’s Talk About the Personal Statement
By: Jackson Rubin
If you’re reading this, you’re probably a pre-law student or recent grad trying to figure out how the heck you’re supposed to distill your life into a couple pages for law school admissions. Maybe you’re interested in public interest law—legal aid, civil rights, public defense, policy work—but you didn’t grow up around lawyers or go to a school with a pipeline into the legal world. That’s me too. So let’s cut through the noise and talk honestly about the one part of your application that still feels like it’s fully in your control: your personal statement.
It’s weird, right? You’re told this essay is super important—possibly the difference between a “Congratulations” and a “We regret to inform you”—but also that it’s not about your resume, not a sob story, not a legal argument, and not a memoir. So what is it?
At its core, the personal statement is a window into how you think, how you’ve grown, and why law school is the right next step for you. It’s not about being perfect. It’s about showing clarity, maturity, and purpose. If you’re pursuing public interest law, this is your chance to show that your motivation runs deeper than ambition—it’s personal, lived, and tested.
Start with your throughline. What connects your experiences, even if they don’t seem to line up at first glance? Maybe you translated for your parents growing up and now you care about language access. Maybe you worked through school and saw wage theft up close. Maybe you helped a friend fight an eviction or watched a loved one go through the immigration system. You don’t need a big “aha” moment. You need a pattern. A shift. Show the admissions committee how that evolved into a desire to do this work with intention.
If there’s a single moment that captures that shift, start there. Put the readers in the scene. What were you doing? What did you notice? What changed? Then zoom out—connect it to your values, your growth, and the kind of legal work you want to pursue. Don’t say “I want to go to law school” in the first paragraph. Let the story earn it. And whatever you do, don’t end with “I hope to make a difference.” Say what kind of difference. Say how. If you want to work in housing, name it. If it’s criminal justice reform or disability rights or voting access, say that. You don’t need a ten-year plan, but your motivation should be revealed.
Now, some nuts and bolts, because I know people stress over this:
Length: Most schools allow up to two double-spaced pages, with standard margins and a readable font (11 or 12 pt). Always check each school’s requirements, because some will give word or character limits. Some might only want one page. Don’t guess—double-check!
One statement for all schools? Mostly, yes. You can use the same core essay if it’s strong and focused. Just make sure it fits each school’s length requirements. If you mention a specific program or clinic, triple-check that you’re sending it to the right school (you’d be shocked how often applicants forget to change the name).
No legal internship? No problem. You don’t need to have worked in a law office to write a strong personal statement. What matters more is why you want to study law, and how your experiences—whatever they are—have shaped that interest.
No “big story”? Totally fine. Some of the best essays come from small, specific moments. Something you witnessed. A conversation that stuck with you. The realization that helping someone understand a lease or a form or a rule meant something more.
Can you talk about childhood? You can start there, but don’t stay there. You need to show who you are now, and how you’ve reflected and acted since. Childhood alone doesn’t prove readiness for law school.
Mention GPA, LSAT, or transcripts? No. Those are already in your file. Use the personal statement to show what numbers can’t—your voice, your thinking, your values.
Another person’s experience? Be careful. If you were directly involved and it influenced your goals, maybe. But don’t center the essay around someone else’s story.
How personal is too personal? Ask yourself: does this show judgment, resilience, or insight? If it’s just trauma without reflection, think twice. Vulnerability is fine, but it has to serve a purpose.
One of the best pieces of advice I ever got was this: your resume shows breadth. Your personal statement should show depth. It’s tempting to cram everything in, but the best essays go deep on one arc. Think of it like cross-examining yourself. What’s the truth beneath the details? Why do you care about this work?
Writing this essay can feel weird and uncomfortable. That’s normal. But don’t overthink it. You don’t need big words or big drama. You just need to sound like someone law schools can believe in—because you’ve already shown up, listened hard, and stayed curious. You already have something to say. So say it.
You’ve got this.
