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- Published: 4th October 2026
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Personal statement example
During a GCSE maths paper last summer, a boy in the third row put his pen down after ten minutes and stared at the clock for the rest of the exam. As an invigilator I am not allowed to say anything beyond the rules, so I stood nearby, checked his candidate number and logged the time. Afterwards I passed a note to his head of year, as our procedures require. I never learned what happened next, but the moment stayed with me because it showed the limits of my role. I could notice, record and pass on. I want to train as a school counsellor so that I can be the person who has the conversation that follows.
My degree in Education Studies gave me a framework for thinking about schools as systems rather than collections of classrooms. For my dissertation I designed a short questionnaire for Year 7 pupils at a local secondary school in their first term, asking what had worried them before starting and what had turned out to be difficult. With the school's permission and parental consent, I received 84 responses. The worries pupils predicted, mostly getting lost or being bullied, were often not the ones that lasted. Several wrote instead about not knowing which adult to ask about small problems, such as a lost timetable or a falling-out at lunch. I was careful not to overstate a small sample from one school, but the finding made me interested in how pupils learn who is approachable, and how a counsellor's visibility in ordinary school life might matter as much as appointments.
Alongside invigilating, I work three lunchtimes a week as a supervisor in the same school. The work is practical: managing the dinner queue, unlocking the library, keeping an eye on the field. It has taught me a great deal about the informal side of pupils' days. I have come to recognise the girl who always arrives at the library door first because the canteen is too loud, and the group of Year 9 boys whose football games become tense when one of them is having a bad week. I follow the safeguarding training the school provides and know when something must be reported rather than handled myself, and I have done so twice. I am clear that this is supervision, not counselling, but it has given me patience with routine and an eye for patterns.
At home I help my younger brother, who has dyslexia, with homework most evenings. Over two years we have worked out together that he does better when I read questions aloud and he explains his answer before writing it. Watching his confidence grow has shown me how much a pupil's sense of themselves as a learner affects their willingness to try, which I expect to be relevant to the academic and career guidance side of school counselling as well as the emotional side.
Outside school, I play second cornet in a community brass band. It has nothing to do with counselling, but rehearsing weekly with people from sixteen to seventy-five has made me comfortable with people of very different ages and with taking direction gracefully.
I have read Carl Rogers' On Becoming a Person, and his account of unconditional positive regard made me reflect on how often schools, understandably, attach approval to behaviour. I am interested in how counsellors hold that tension within an institution that must also set rules. I would also like to develop skills I currently lack: structured approaches to individual and group work, an understanding of ethical and legal responsibilities, and supervised practice with feedback.
I bring steady, unglamorous experience of school life, a research project that taught me to listen to pupils carefully, and a clear sense of the boundary between noticing and helping. Postgraduate training is how I hope to move across it responsibly.