I was adopted when I was ten years old, and as I prepare for college now, I find myself becoming the first person in my biological family to take this step. Almost everyone in my biological family has struggled with mental illness or substance abuse, so higher education was never really a possibility for them. Growing up with that knowledge has pushed me to work even harder for the chance to build a different future. My adoptive family has cared for me, but they are not willing to contribute financially to my college education. Because I was adopted before age thirteen, I don’t qualify for the full scholarships, tuition waivers, or special financial aid programs that support older foster youth. At the same time, I’m ineligible for need-based aid because my adoptive family’s income is counted on paper even though it won’t actually help me pay for school. Being caught in the middle of these rules — not having access to the resources meant for foster youth, but also not receiving support from my adoptive home — has caused a lot of stress as I try to figure out how to make college possible. I’ve earned several scholarships based on my academics and for attending a Christian high school, and I’m grateful for every one of them. Still, they don’t cover everything, and I’m constantly thinking about how I’ll pay for the remaining costs. I plan to work throughout college, but working in high school wasn’t an option for me. I’m attending a year-round boarding school, and during breaks, I’m never home long enough to find or keep a job. That means I’m starting college without savings and without the work experience many other students have by this point. I have been accepted to Grand Canyon University, where I plan to pursue a Doctor of Physical Therapy (DPT) degree. My motivation for entering the field of physical therapy stems from my personal experiences. Sports and music have always been significant outlets for me, and I empathize deeply with individuals who are unable to participate in sports due to injury, whether temporarily or permanently. I aspire to help these individuals recover from their injuries and support them through the associated mental and emotional challenges. Even with all these challenges, I’m determined. I’ve learned to navigate complicated systems, advocate for myself, and keep going when things don’t feel fair or straightforward. I’m committed to finding a way to make college work — not just for myself, but for the future I want to build, one that breaks the cycle my biological family has struggled with for generations.

My name is Brittany Warren. I am a senior at Oakdale Christian Academy, and throughout my life, movement has always been at the center of who I am. I love music, rollerblading, working out, and staying active. These things aren’t just hobbies to me—they are part of how I stay grounded and balanced. I can’t imagine my life without sports and movement because being active helps me manage my emotions and gives me a healthy outlet when life feels overwhelming. After a long day, one of my favorite things to do is go outside, put on my rollerblades, turn up my music, and let everything else fade away. In those moments, I feel free, clear-minded, and fully myself. Because of this, I feel deeply for anyone who can’t be active, whether due to an injury, an illness, or a disability. When I see someone unable to participate in the activities they love, I am reminded of how much movement means to me—and how different my life would feel without it. Realizing this has made me grateful for the abilities I have, and it has also inspired me to want to help others. This is why I want to become a physical therapist with a focus on sports. When an athlete is injured, it can feel like their world has been turned upside down. I want to be the person who helps them recover, rebuild their strength, and hopefully return to the passion that brings them joy. Helping someone get back to what they love is one of the most meaningful things I can imagine doing. Empathy, according to the dictionary, is “the ability to understand and share the feelings of another.” I believe this definition is true, but in a real-world sense, empathy is deeper than just understanding. To me, empathy means making an effort to imagine what it feels like to walk in someone else’s shoes—even if you have never been in their exact situation. It doesn’t mean trying to relate to everything someone is going through or saying “I know how you feel” when you really don’t. For example, if someone has broken their leg and can’t play sports, empathy isn’t pretending you’ve had the same struggle. Instead, it means recognizing their frustration, their sadness, or their fear, and responding in a way that genuinely supports them. Sometimes that means simply listening. Other times it means offering encouragement, showing patience, or helping them find a path forward. Empathy is not about having all the answers; it’s about showing you care enough to try. As a future sports physical therapist, I want to carry empathy with me into every interaction. Athletes are often seen as strong, tough, and determined—but they are still people with emotions, hopes, and setbacks. When someone is recovering from an injury, they don’t only need physical support. They need emotional understanding, motivation, and someone who believes in them. I want to be that person. I will try my best to keep an open heart and mind with every patient I work with, remembering that each person’s journey is different. My goal is not only to help athletes heal physically, but also to encourage them through the challenges that come with recovery. In the end, my passion for movement and my desire to help others come together in my dream of becoming a physical therapist. I want to use my abilities, my empathy, and my love for sports to make a real difference in people’s lives. If I can help even one person return to what they love, then I’ll know I’ve chosen the right path.