I want to be different, I’ll make no mistakes about making this clear: I want to stand out. I want my application to be at the top of Cambridge’s, Edinburgh’s, London School of Economics’, Durham’s, and York’s acceptance piles, and I can’t possibly see how this could ever happen with a woefully generic and dreadfully impersonal personal statement. If this is personal, I should have free reign over stating opinions; thoughts on my chosen subjects. It just follows from the title of the assigned piece. Regardless of this triumph of common sense and semantics in the pursuit of a definition for what a personal statement should be, I’ve been advised against talking about my views on things that I’ve seen or read whilst still mentioning them and their relevance to my degree course: this supposed personal statement, it would seem, is to be little more than a reading list with a summary preface of my initial interest for the subject and a closing paragraph restating my interest.

The only things that remain personal about the misnamed exercise are the glancing (as detail is a bad thing here, clearly) references to extracurricular activity and the overworked examples of school participation bound to make you popular within the offices of academics reviewing your application: these people would just love to meet more who share their love for ‘arranging’ (ie, ‘holding a signing-up sheet’) charity events. All for a good cause, of course: not just a cynical look forward to a future where mentioning such selfless acts may serve as beneficial. And still, this says nothing about anyone personally: some are bound to have the same hobbies; similar experiences. The words ‘Duke of Edinburgh’ must be amongst the most reviled in admissions circles purely for their unrelenting frequency of appearance.

So, what did I do wrong, according to several reviewers of my work? The results of one can be seen here: FRONT and BACK.

• I stated my opinion and reviewed two sides of the National Identity Register arguments, rather than stating relevant books and documentaries I had seen on the subject. I would hope that an admissions tutor would be far more interested in your opinions rather than those recycled from celluloid and pulp.
• I mentioned my socioeconomic background: a background which has served in no small part in the formation of my current character, philosophy and my hopes for social mobility.
• I was criticised for my lack of specificity in relation to my reference to British interference in the Russian civil war, just before being criticised for being overly verbose on the issue of the National Identity Register. I’m either missing a balance here, or it’s six-of-one, half-a-dozen-of-the-other.
• I made several linguistic follies; criticism here was just.

If all personal statements follow the structure and content which it was recommended to me that mine should, the entire implementation of the concept of a personal statement is flawed at best; something verging on a nihilism at worst: a history of reading/watching combined with general statements about an interest in the applicable subject is hardly enough to base a character judgement on. Combine this with the fact that for many courses, many universities do not interview, and it’s fair to assume that many who would not necessarily be desired by a University are going to find their way into a place unsuitable for them. Besides, it’s far too easy to lie on a personal statement: you’ll only truly get caught out if you make the heinous mistake of trying to continue a lie through an interview with someone who is far, far more qualified than you in the subjects concerned.

It’s hard enough to get passion across in 4,000 characters or 47 lines: restrictions on your statement’s exploration of why and for what you have the fervour which compels you to apply for a given course through ’suggested’ structures does not make it any easier, and just increases the potential for sounding pretentious and/or arrogant, if the admissions tutor can even find the will to work his way through yet another personal-statement-by-numbers.

Hilarity in Question 3 – ‘Discuss the strengths and weaknesses of Source C.’

1. ‘The Archbishop of Canterbury’s religious bent is bound to make him less reliable: he’s tied to his archaic doctrine and all that it infers should hold true for family life.’
2. ‘The Times is a little too conservative and pseudo-right wing for it to be taken without a pinch of salt. Actually, maybe not a pinch: more a handful.’

Hilarity in Question 5 – ‘Explain how and why family life has changed in the last 30 years.’

1. ‘We’ve gone from the stereotypical married-couple-and-2.4-children to what conservatives would call “chaotic, widespread” illegitimacy and “ungodly” same-sex relationships.’
2. ‘Without the financial benefits, marriage came to be seen as the archaic social construct that it truly is: something more to do with the subjugation of women than expressions of love. Neither love nor money were satisfied. Cohabiting was now in Vogue.’
3. ‘The legalisation of homosexual civil unions also played a part in changing the role and structure of the family over the last 30 years: closeted men no longer have to get married to keep up appearances and satisfy the male need for possession of a loved one.’
4. ‘The old social evils of divorce and sole parenthood have dissolved. Moral dissolution: perhaps that’s what Thatcher meant by “there’s no such thing as society?” Maybe she was pining for times gone by, when women were women and the men found even bulldogs attractive.’
5. ‘God bless the nuclear family: the picture perfect, biblical standard!’ – Fear Before the March of Flames fans will understand this. Abstraction of song lyrics is wonderful.

There were more points like this: I’m sure of it. Time has made light work of these memories, it seems. The essay did most definitely descend into rant far more frequently than five times. 3 fucking pages for those 15 marks. I’ll be upset if I didn’t get them. I concluded, quoted and everything.

In all seriousness, this subject is a joke; especially our course. Morality, culture and aesthetics are taught and expected to be answered to in an objective fashion. And it’s not even interesting: I don’t really care for the high-art-versus-popular-culture debate, it’s a nihilism because they are inherently separated. The popular will remain the transiently popular, and high art will live on in the pretentiously, snobbishly interested and the genuinely interested alike; it’s just that the former far outnumber the latter. The exams could be taken by anyone with even the slightest modicum of common sense and even a rotting skeleton of what most people would call ‘opinion’. It’s so dry, so empty, so pointless. It’s just posturing: a state-sponsored excuse to bullshit to pass (oh, hi: an E is a fucking pass) an exam for a qualification no reputable institution would even look at. I’m yet to see a university offer which does not state, in bold, ‘excl. Gen. Studies‘. Knowing my luck, though, I’ll get a B/C in General Studies and have my universities of choice (Edinburgh, Manchester, Durham, Cambridge, in that order) ‘require’ an A. Sod’s law, right? To be honest, I think that I’d rather demonstrate good humour, facetiousness and the fact that I am a supercilious wanker than actually make an effort to answer these non-questions seriously. I’m being an unconventional student. Challenging social norms. Sticking it to the man. Etc.

In my mind I was torn between being facetious, quoting relevant lyrics in my answers or ladling innuendo over my answers. I think that I chose the combination best suited to an exam situation: if my examiner was female, I’d probably be pretty fucked. They’re uptight types. Though now I have the more likely situation of my marker being a conservative Christian to worry about. Hah.

Bah, I should have left for Scotland last year rather than waiting for the end of this one. I do, however, feel that I’ll be losing a lot if I do move now. My friends are the nails in my feet.