personal statement.docVIP

　　In the deepest recesses of my memories is the boulevard lined with Chinese parasol trees located outside my house. When I was just ten years old, my father put me at the back of his bicycle and rode me every weekend to attend English classes in the nearby community center (English was not part of elementary school education in China at that time). On this road of questing for my first western education, I, as a girl who loved to indulge in observations and meditations, kept an observant eye on the changing colors of the leaves all the year round. The rotation of seasons and the cyclical chan