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- Published: 4th October 2026
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Personal statement example
"Why does the metal railing feel colder than the wooden bench if they've been outside the same amount of time?" A Year 10 student I tutor online asked me this after a walk to the bus stop, and her question has stayed with me. She had already decided the railing was colder. Spending twenty minutes with her untangling temperature from the rate of heat transfer was the most satisfying part of my week, and that is a large part of why I want to train as a physics teacher.
I graduated with a degree in Mechanical Engineering last summer. My final-year project measured heat loss through Victorian sash windows before and after fitting secondary glazing panels in a rented terraced house. I logged inside and outside temperatures with thermocouples over several weeks and used a borrowed thermal camera to locate draughts around the frames. The results themselves were modest: the panels helped, but air leakage at the sash cords mattered more than I had expected. What I valued most was learning to separate a clear physical model from messy real data. I had to explain to the landlord, who had no science background, why a window could feel cold even when the glass was not losing much heat. That conversation used the same ideas as my tutee's railing, and I noticed I enjoyed it more than writing the report.
Since graduating, I have tutored GCSE physics and maths for about six hours a week through an online agency, alongside a part-time job on the front desk at a climbing centre. Tutoring has shown me how often students carry tidy formulas next to untidy intuitions. One student could rearrange V = IR perfectly but believed current was "used up" by a bulb. Instead of repeating the definition, I asked her to predict ammeter readings either side of the bulb in a simulation, and the surprise did more than my explanation had. I now plan sessions around a prediction the student commits to before we check it, because it shows me what they actually think.
The climbing centre is not a teaching job, but it involves a lot of explaining. I run induction briefings for new visitors, often groups of teenagers on school trips, covering belaying and how auto-belay devices work. I have learnt to keep instructions short, check understanding by watching people do things rather than asking whether they understood, and stay calm with a group that would rather be climbing than listening. Some of the most attentive questions come when I mention friction in the rope system.
On Saturday mornings I help at a junior swimming club, mostly timing races and managing the poolside lists. It is ordinary volunteering, but it has given me a feel for how young people respond to encouragement, nerves and fairness. They notice quickly when an adult is inconsistent.
I arranged two days of observation at a local comprehensive to test my interest against a real classroom. I watched a Year 8 lesson on pressure where the teacher crushed a can using air pressure, then spent most of the lesson getting students to explain what had happened in their own words. I realised the demonstration was the easy part. The skill lay in the questioning afterwards, and in knowing which wrong answers to follow up. I was a visitor, not a teacher, but it made clear how much I have to learn about planning, behaviour and assessment.
An engineering background gives me a stock of real applications, from thermal bridging in houses to the forces in a climbing rope, and I can do the mathematics behind them confidently. What I want from postgraduate training is the professional knowledge to turn that into lessons where every student, not just the keen ones, gets to make and test a prediction. I would like to help pupils see physics as a way of explaining the world they walk through, including the railing at the bus stop.