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- Published: 4th October 2026
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Personal statement example
Much of my working day at a GP surgery reception is spent on the telephone, and I have learned to recognise when a caller has stopped understanding me before they say so. The pauses lengthen, or they repeat my last word as a question. After a while I began adjusting without thinking: slower appointment times, "fifteen" followed by "one-five", fewer details per sentence. These small repairs made me curious about what actually goes wrong between sound leaving a mouth and meaning arriving in a listener, and that curiosity is why I want to train in audiology.
My BSc in Linguistics gave me a grounding in phonetics and speech perception. I enjoyed acoustic phonetics most, particularly reading spectrograms in Praat and seeing why some consonants are fragile. Fricatives such as /f/ and /s/ carry much of their energy at higher frequencies, while vowels are louder and more robust, which helped me understand why people with high-frequency hearing loss often say they can hear speech but not make it out. For my dissertation I recorded minimal pairs such as "fin" and "thin" and played them to twenty fellow students over recorded café noise at three signal-to-noise ratios. The project was modest, but it taught me how much care measurement needs. I had to calibrate playback levels, randomise the order of trials and justify my exclusion criteria, and my supervisor pushed me to explain why my results could not be generalised to older listeners or hearing aid users. That limitation is exactly what I now want to study properly.
Reception work has given me a different education. I book appointments for patients who have been referred for hearing tests and wax removal, and I have noticed how often they arrive anxious, not knowing what will happen in the room. I do not pretend this makes me knowledgeable about clinical practice, but it has shown me that explaining a process clearly is part of care. I have also become reliable under pressure: Monday mornings mean a full phone queue, a waiting room, and colleagues depending on me to keep the system accurate. I was asked last year to help train two new receptionists, which I did by writing a simple checklist for our booking system that the practice still uses.
Outside work, I help at the weekly lip-reading class my grandfather attends at the local community centre. My role is practical: setting out chairs in a horseshoe so everyone can see the tutor's face, adjusting the blinds so nobody is lip-reading against a bright window, and making tea. Watching the tutor, I have seen how much people rely on context, and how tiring it is to concentrate for an hour. Several members talk about hearing aids sitting in drawers because they found them uncomfortable or unhelpful in noisy places, which made me realise that fitting a device is only the start.
I also sing alto in a community choir. It is purely for enjoyment, but rehearsals in a church hall with a hard floor have given me an ordinary appreciation of how rooms shape sound, and how hard it is to pick out your own part when everything echoes.
I am aware that my preparation is weighted towards speech rather than the anatomy and physiology of the auditory system, so I have been working through an introductory audiology textbook and revising basic biology alongside my job. I am ready for the clinical side of training to be demanding, and I want to learn to assess hearing accurately and then help people use what they have in their real lives. I would bring careful measurement habits, patience, and a practised ear for when communication is breaking down.