- Reading time: 3 minutes
- Price: Free download
- Published: 4th October 2026
- Word count: 636 words
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Personal statement example
By three o'clock on a Thursday, the Year 4 teacher in one of the schools I visit sounds noticeably different from the person who greeted me at nine. Her pitch drops, her phrases shorten, and she clears her throat before almost every instruction. She has never complained of a voice problem. That gap, between what a voice is doing and what its owner reports, is the question I would like to pursue through postgraduate study in the sciences of speech and language therapy.
I qualified as a speech and language therapist two years ago. My final-year project grew out of a similar observation during placement. With my supervisor's guidance and the teachers' consent, I recorded short reading samples from twelve primary teachers on a Monday morning and again on a Friday afternoon, then measured fundamental frequency and jitter using Praat. I also asked each teacher to complete the Voice Handicap Index. The sample was far too small to support firm conclusions, and the recordings were made in ordinary classrooms rather than a sound-treated booth, which I discussed at length as a limitation. Even so, several teachers showed clear acoustic changes across the week while scoring themselves as having few or no difficulties. Writing up the project taught me how much careful method matters: deciding where to place the microphone, how to segment a sustained vowel and how to handle a recording interrupted by a bell took me longer than the analysis itself.
Since qualifying I have worked for a local service supporting mainstream primary schools. Most of my caseload involves children with developmental language disorder, speech sound difficulties or stammering, and a large part of the role is training staff to adapt their classroom talk. I have become reasonably confident at writing practical targets that a busy teaching assistant can actually use, and at explaining assessment results to parents without jargon. What I lack is the research training to answer questions properly rather than simply notice them. When a head teacher asked me whether the voice-care leaflet we distribute makes any difference, I could only say that I did not know of good evidence either way.
Reading has helped me frame that uncertainty. Titze's Principles of Voice Production gave me a clearer grasp of how vocal fold vibration relates to the acoustic measures I had used, and made me realise how crudely I had interpreted jitter in my project. Reading about the ICF framework has also pushed me to think about voice not only as a physical signal but in terms of participation: a teacher who cannot be heard at the back of the room is losing something in her working life, whether or not a clinic would label it a disorder.
Outside the school service, I spend two evenings a month helping at an adult literacy group at my local library. It is not therapy, and I am careful not to treat it as such, but sitting beside adults who are learning to decode text has made me more patient and more alert to how embarrassment shapes what people are willing to say about their difficulties. At weekends I play five-a-side football, which mostly keeps me sane, though I have noticed I am now the player who winces when teammates shout for ninety minutes.
At master's level I would like to develop sound skills in study design, acoustic and perceptual voice analysis and statistics, with the aim of eventually investigating occupational voice use in teachers more rigorously than an undergraduate project allows. I would bring clinical experience, practical familiarity with recording and analysis software, and a working knowledge of schools as places where research must fit around timetables. Above all, I want to be able to return to that Year 4 classroom with better questions and the means to answer them.