Five Questions to Ask Yourself When Writing College & Scholarship Essays

This post is a streamlined companion to the latest podcast episode on writing college and scholarship essays (embedded below), distilled into five practical questions you can use to plan, draft, and self-edit a 650-word personal statement. If you’re skimming, this version keeps the essentials—specific moments, humble reflection, clean structure, and a clear link to college fit—without the extra commentary.

College and scholarship essays shouldn’t read like résumés in paragraph form. They should read like a small, true story that changed how you see the world—told clearly, humbly, and in your own voice. With a 650-word limit (Common App), clarity is your friend.

Below is a streamlined way to plan, draft, and edit your essay without losing yourself in the process.

1) What’s the one moment only you can tell—and where were you standing?

Pick a single scene (a day, an hour, a bus ride, a Saturday shift) and place it in your real context—your town, family, language, school culture, faith community, or job. Let at least one other person appear so the story feels relational, not performative. Example: “On the 5:42 a.m. route, Ms. Rosa handed me her thermos and asked about my calc quiz…”

Why it works: Specificity + setting + another human = authenticity.

2) What changed in you because of that moment?

Move from scene (what happened) to insight (what it means). Name a before → after in a single clear sentence: a belief adjusted, a habit adopted, a perspective widened. Sprinkle reflection, don’t dump it.

Example: “Before, I measured success by right answers; after, by whether someone else could use them.”

Why it works: Admissions readers want evidence of growth, not a moral-of-the-story.

3) How do you sound mature without sounding self-impressed?

Use plain language. Share credit. Admit limits and name what you’re doing about them. Replace grand claims with concrete practices.

Example: “I still freeze when plans change; I signed up for the last lab slot—nothing runs on time—to get better.”

Why it works: A grounded, in-progress voice signals self-awareness and coachability.

4) How will your ending echo your opening?

Open with a clean image or line; close by revisiting it with new meaning. Keep paragraphs short and transitions obvious. Avoid “In conclusion…” and canned quotes.

Example: If you began with a rattling bus heater, end with the same sound—plus the spare thermos you packed and the diagram you drew for Ms. Rosa.

Why it works: A light callback creates cohesion and makes 650 words feel complete.

5) How does this moment point to your goals—and why that college?

Bridge your theme to next steps using specific offerings that extend the growth you’ve shown: a course, lab, center, studio, advising model, or community partnership. Make the fit sentence un-swappable.

Example: “Because translating ideas changed how I learn, I’m drawn to the Community-Engaged Scholars track and Dr. Mendez’s bilingual health lab, where clearer math might save real time at the clinic.”

Why it works: Alignment > flattery. Readers remember a match, not a brochure.

One-Minute Self-Edit

• Is my scene unmistakably mine and grounded in a real setting with real people?

• Can a stranger underline the sentence where my thinking or behavior clearly shifts?

• Do I sound in-progress (naming limits + next steps) rather than flawless?

• Does the last line quietly echo the opening image or idea?

• Would my “fit” sentence only make sense at this specific college?

Final thought: You don’t need to be the hero of a sweeping saga. Show one moment only you can tell, let it change you on the page, and point toward a campus where that growth continues. That’s the kind of clarity admissions and scholarship readers remember.