Legacy, to me, is about restoring something in people that they fear they’ve lost. It isn’t about recognition or having your name tied to a major accomplishment; it’s about the quiet, lasting effect you have on the individuals you meet. When I work with recent amputees and apply rigid dressings within days of their surgery, I often become the first person who can speak to them not just about what happened, but about what is still possible. It’s a moment where shock, grief, and uncertainty run together, and my role is to offer a small but solid foothold—some sense that their life still has direction. If I can leave people with renewed confidence or a clearer picture of their future at their most difficult moment, that’s the kind of legacy that feels meaningful to me. My upbringing shaped the way I see this work. My mom kept an open dialogue about mental health that wasn’t common in many homes; feelings, fears, and doubts were things you could talk about rather than hide. That openness shaped how I show up for people now. It made me comfortable acknowledging a patient’s emotional reality instead of pushing past it in favor of the technical details. It also made me sensitive to how intertwined psychological and physical recovery truly are, which is why prosthetics and orthotics feel like the right field for me—helping someone walk again is inseparable from helping them believe they can. Growing up with ADHD added another layer to that understanding. It taught me how frustrating it can be to feel out of sync with expectations and how exhausting it is to compensate without the right tools or support. COVID intensified that by stripping away structure and forcing me to rebuild it piece by piece. I had to reestablish routines, recommit to the goals that mattered to me, and return slowly to the activities I love, like climbing and running. That process taught me that progress is rarely linear and that rebuilding—physically, mentally, or emotionally—often takes longer than people admit. It gave me patience with myself and, by extension, patience for the people I work with. As I’ve grown into this field, figures like Hugh Herr have helped clarify the kind of legacy I want to pursue. His work demonstrates that prosthetics aren’t simply replacements—they’re tools that can redefine human ability and restore identity. What inspires me most is not just his technological achievements but his insistence that disability does not limit potential. Seeing someone transform their own experience into innovation and advocacy reinforces why I want to be part of this profession in the first place: to help people reclaim the lives they thought were gone. There are parts of my upbringing I want to continue, and parts I want to change. I want to carry forward the openness and empathy that shaped me, because they allow me to meet patients where they are and offer support that feels genuine. But I also want to break the cycles that encouraged pushing through everything alone or treating struggle as something to hide. As I move deeper into my career and into my own adult life, I want to normalize vulnerability, boundary-setting, and self-advocacy—for myself and for those I work with. If my legacy can be one of restoring confidence, fostering openness, and helping people rebuild their sense of possibility, then I’ll feel I’ve honored where I came from while shaping something better in return.

I envision a thriving adaptive climbing community in Pittsburgh, built on the principles of the foundational training I received with ParaCliffHangers and centered around Ascend - Point Breeze, a local, Pittsburgh-founded climbing gym that has aligned itself with the type of inclusive climbing culture our city could benefit from. The ParaCliffHangers Adaptive Climbing Training in 2024 was just two long days, but I quickly realized that the possibilities for adaptive climbing programs were tremendous. The knowledge I gained about specialized rope systems and how to competently and respectfully engage with people with disabilities was not just the important learning of professional development; it illuminated the possibilities for what climbing could become when we are intentional about making it accessible for all. I want to build a comprehensive support structure that creates continuity in the adaptive programming offered by Ascend Point Breeze. This would involve the development of consistent adaptive climbing events, training more of their staff and volunteers in adaptive climbing, and developing opportunities for participants to go from climbing indoors to climbing outdoors at the many amazing climbing areas in western Pennsylvania. As someone with a background in orthotics and prosthetics I've also been able to bring something special to this vision. My O&P experience framed the way I understand biomechanics and human movement patterns as well as introducing me to many adaptive technologies. My routesetting experience also had a great impact, particularly in regard to "athletic empathy", or imagining how bodies of different capacities and skills may interact with the routes we set. Athletic empathy especially relates to adaptive climbing, as I try to approach each participant as an individual with their own unique way of moving and processing each moment. The impacts reach far beyond the climbing experience. Adaptive climbing participants get all of the physical benefits of climbing, including strength and coordination, and the mental health benefits from getting out and moving, stress relief, and building confidence. Most importantly adaptive climbing creates a community where people with disabilities are seen as people with abilities rather than people with limitations. All of this is strongly aligned with my future aspirations of working in the field of O&P. Both fields aim to maximize humans ability and quality of life through a combination of innovative solutions and care and compassion. Building this community will result in creating opportunities for everyone to challenge themselves, connect with each other, and to realize the beauty of human movement one (non-linear) route at a time.

The fall of 2020 brought a level of turmoil that I had never experienced as I transferred to the University of Pittsburgh during the height of COVID-19 Pandemic. I was transferring to complete my engineering degree through a well-regarded 3+2 program, and what should have been a moment of excitement turned into one of the most challenging periods of my life. After following my path successfully for two years with a respectable GPA of 3.18 at Slippery Rock University, I eventually stumbled after hiding behind an online course screen and had to witness my GPA descend into nothingness with two semesters of withdrawals, multiple complete failures, and ultimately an academic suspension. The effect of online learning was much more impactful than I thought. I was coming from a more traditional classroom setting where I gained strength from classmates, and I also gained strength from my hands-on and collaborative learning pursuits. One day, that all changed to an online format, and I felt unbelievably disconnected. My mental health declined as my academic performance declined, but I later realized it was a difficult learning experience where I was ultimately engaged in multiple battles- academic, emotional, and psychological battles. I hit a turning point when I realized I was going to need to focus more on my mental and emotional wellness than just working through it. I needed to stop internalizing my struggles and instead consciously prioritize figuring out what was going on with me and what I needed to be happy. Part of this process was being honest with myself about my learning style, values, and career intentions. I had to accept that the engineering pathway I had been on may not develop with the person I was becoming. It was through this process of self-reflection that I found some important truths about myself that would influence my entire future. I learned that I am activated by human connection and tangible work, and I find deep satisfaction in being of service to others. These truths and this clarity motivated me to look into prosthetics and orthotics – a field that intertwined my scientific background and all that I had come to know about what drove me. The change was incredible. As soon as I aligned my academic interests with my true passions and strengths, my performance skyrocketed, and in just five semesters, while also working 20 hours a week to support myself, I was able to attain a GPA of 2.97, up from failing grades. I chose to major in the History and Philosophy of Science, allowing me to think critically about the practice of medicine while staying rooted in science. This journey taught me that making mental health a priority is more than just handling stress - it is about knowing yourself well enough to make decisions that improve your overall health. I discovered that having difficulty does not mean failure, and that sometimes difficulty could purely be a consequence of trying to thrive in an environment that is not appropriate for you, or trying to achieve goals that are simply not yours to chase. Perhaps most importantly, I learned that authentic self-awareness is the basis for sustainable success.

When I began my journey in college, I was confident in my commitment to pursuing engineering. I have always enjoyed math and science, and I was able to navigate upper-level physics at Slippery Rock University with a GPA of just over 3.18. But then my life took a turn. I transferred to The University of Pittsburgh in the fall of 2020, just as the global pandemic started and turned my understanding of myself and my ability to learn upside down. I found the shift to online learning during the pandemic devastating. I became unmotivated and struggled not only with my coursework, but also with my overall mental health. I went from a range of withdrawals to a complete semester of failures to then receive an academic suspension. As someone who has historically been able to explore their identity as a successful student, I felt like a complete failure. I was quarantined behind a screen, cut off from the educational components like hands-on learning and most importantly, the social connections that I realize are now a necessary part of what helps me learn. Throughout this struggle I learnt something very important personally. Being locked in isolation, I realised how much I needed that connection with other people and how I relied on concrete creative process to help other people. When I reflected back on what actually moved me forward, I began looking at careers that fit those new insights about my strengths and my values. I discovered orthotics and prosthetics, which is a field that draws on science, art and connection to the human experience. This realization changed everything, it gave me purpose and I threw myself into figuring out how to change what was going on with my studies. In five semesters I took my grades from failing, to a GPA of 2.97, switched to a fascinating course of major, History and Philosophy of Science, that I actually enjoyed and was relevant preparation for healthcare, and took my first undergraduate O&P course. I was inspired by the philosophical underpinnings of medical practice that I studied, particularly in the course "Mind and Medicine," I developed a greater appreciation for how nuanced are the definitions and ideas that are fundamental to patient care. My job as a routesetter at a rock climbing gym further shaped my pathway to O&P in that I learned how to understand three-dimensional movement, clearly communicate with my teammates and develop what we called "athletic empathy," which was the ability to envision how other bodies and skill levels would navigate a climb. These skills are perfectly transferable to prosthetics and orthotics, as understanding individual patient situations, movement patterns, and limitations are critical to being successful. The obstacles I had to overcome during the pandemic have taught me that while setbacks are unavoidable, it is our next steps that define us and define who we are. I was forced to look deeper to discover what I am actually passionate about. I realized that I shouldn't pursue a career where I was good at specific prerequisites; rather, I learned to pursue and identify work that fulfills my personal and professional values and allows to do meaningful work. Additionally, my experiences have taught me that the most meaningful growth often comes from our most difficult moments. The empathy I developed through my own struggles, combined with my renewed sense of purpose, positions me to make a real difference in healthcare. I understand what it feels like to face overwhelming challenges, and this understanding helps me connect with patients who are navigating their own difficult journeys toward mobility and independence.

Receiving this scholarship would be transformative in my journey toward becoming a Certified Prosthetist-Orthotist (CPO). Having recently accepted an offer to attend the University of Pittsburgh's Master's of Prosthetics and Orthotics program, I stand at a critical threshold between my past struggles and future aspirations. My path to this field has been unconventional. Originally pursuing engineering, I maintained a 3.18 GPA at Slippery Rock University before transferring to the University of Pittsburgh. Unfortunately, this coincided with the fall semester of 2020, when the pandemic forced learning online. The transition revealed undiagnosed ADHD and triggered mental health challenges that led to academic setbacks, including course withdrawals, failures, and an academic suspension. Through these struggles, I discovered important truths about myself: I thrive in hands-on environments, value human connection, and am deeply motivated by helping others. These realizations led me to prosthetics and orthotics, which is the perfect blend of technical skill, creativity, and compassionate care. With renewed purpose, I improved my GPA from failing to a 2.97 in just five semesters while balancing 20-hour work weeks. I eventually found employment at Union Orthotics and Prosthetics Company, where I recently became a Certified Fitter of Orthotics. This experience confirmed my passion for the field as I witnessed firsthand how well-designed assistive devices can restore possibilities that patients thought were lost. Despite this progress, the financial burden of graduate education remains significant. This scholarship would alleviate the economic pressure that might otherwise force me to work excessive hours during my studies, potentially compromising the depth of my learning experience. With this support, I could fully immerse myself in the program's rigorous curriculum, participate in research opportunities, and pursue additional certifications that would enhance my clinical skills. Beyond the immediate financial relief, this scholarship represents an investment in my long-term professional impact. After completing my master's degree, I plan to pursue a residency focused on pediatric care, where I aim to specialize in creating adaptive solutions for children with limb differences and mobility challenges. The scholarship would allow me to select my residency based on educational quality rather than financial considerations, ensuring I receive the best possible training for this specialized work. Further down the line, my ultimate career goal extends beyond clinical practice to include research and development of advanced prosthetic technologies. I'm particularly interested in improving pediatric devices that can better adapt to children's growth and activity levels. The scholarship would provide the foundation for this work by supporting my fundamental education and freeing me to pursue innovative projects during my studies. Perhaps most meaningfully, this scholarship would validate the non-linear path I've taken. It would affirm that setbacks, when met with resilience and self-reflection, can lead to greater purpose. With this support, I can continue transforming my personal challenges into professional strengths that will benefit the patients I serve throughout my career. By investing in my education today, this scholarship would help create a future where more individuals with limb differences receive compassionate, technically excellent care that addresses both their physical needs and quality of life. I am committed to honoring this investment by becoming the best possible practitioner, researcher, and advocate I can be.

Sitting in front of my computer screen staring at an email that decidedly ended my pursuit of engineering, I knew I had to find my true calling. Growing up, I never considered a career in healthcare. My strength in math and science naturally steered me toward engineering. This decision unexpectedly led me to my ideal career: orthotics and prosthetics. I enrolled at Slippery Rock University in their engineering program that partners with the University of Pittsburgh. In my three years there, I managed to maintain a 3.18 GPA through upper-level physics courses. Then, since I was enrolled in a 3 + 2 years program, it came time to transfer to Pitt to finish my program. Unfortunately, my transfer coincided with the fall semester of 2020, a challenging period due to the COVID-19 pandemic. This period greatly affected my education and career path. I had to begin classes at my new university in an online setting, and I struggled. I struggled with school and my mental health, resulting in two semesters filled with withdrawals, one semester filled with failures, and an academic suspension—a far cry from the 3.18 GPA I had at Slippery Rock. Through this struggle, I discovered important truths about myself. I realized I thrive on hands-on work and human connection. This self-reflection led me to explore prosthetics and orthotics—the perfect blend of science, art, and helping others. With renewed purpose, I improved my GPA from failing to a 2.97 in just five semesters and switched to History and Philosophy of Science, a major that prepared me for the philosophical aspects of healthcare while completing O&P prerequisites. Throughout college, I worked 20 hours weekly, most recently as a routesetter at a climbing gym. This role required communication and "athletic empathy"—envisioning different bodies and abilities on climbs—skills directly applicable to O&P work. My passion for climbing led me to volunteer with ParaCliffHangers, an organization focused on adaptive climbing techniques. During a weekend workshop, I assisted climbers with various physical challenges and learned about specialized equipment adaptations. Witnessing participants overcome barriers through determination and proper support reinforced my belief in the power of assistive technology to expand human potential. The experience deepened my appreciation for how adaptive equipment must be personalized to individual needs and abilities—a principle central to effective O&P practice. After graduation, I began at Union Orthotics and Prosthetics Company, recently becoming a Certified Fitter of Orthotics. Often, I'm the first person to speak with patients about their amputation when applying rigid dressings and explaining recovery. It's delicate work, both physically and emotionally—a craft that's restorative, technical, and deeply human. In regards to this type of work, what moves me most is witnessing someone walk again after believing they never would—seeing the moment when patients realize they still possess agency, beauty, and power after limb loss. My path to O&P has been unconventional, marked by academic setbacks and professional detours. But these challenges revealed my true calling. I've accepted an offer to attend Pitt's Master's of Prosthetics and Orthotics program, with plans to complete residency and board certification. My goal is to develop advanced prosthetic technologies that help people reclaim possibilities they thought were lost—possibilities that extend beyond basic function to encompass the full range of human experience.

Navigating the challenges of mental health has been a transformative journey in my life—one that has reshaped my perspective and strengthened my resolve. During a pivotal moment in my academic career, I faced the dual pressures of adapting to a new university environment and the isolation imposed by the COVID-19 pandemic. The abrupt shift to online classes left me feeling disconnected, and I soon found myself grappling with anxiety and overwhelming stress. As my academic performance faltered, I experienced setbacks that included withdrawals and even an academic suspension. These experiences, though difficult, forced me to confront my mental health head-on. During this period, I learned that struggling with mental health is not a sign of weakness but rather an opportunity for growth and self-discovery. I began reaching out to mentors, friends, and mental health professionals who helped me build a support network. This support system was crucial in guiding me through the darkest moments, teaching me the importance of open communication and self-compassion. I adopted mindfulness practices, engaged in regular physical activity, and pursued creative outlets like writing and art—each of these strategies played a role in stabilizing my mental well-being and slowly restoring my academic focus. The experience reshaped my understanding of success and failure. Instead of viewing my setbacks as insurmountable obstacles, I came to see them as learning opportunities. Each challenge taught me to be resilient and to recognize the value of mental health in every aspect of life. I learned that acknowledging vulnerability is not only necessary for personal healing but also essential for genuine connection with others. This period of struggle ultimately instilled in me a deep sense of empathy and a commitment to advocate for mental health awareness. Today, I carry these lessons into every facet of my life and career. I am driven by the desire to create environments—whether in educational, professional, or community settings—that recognize and address mental health as a critical component of overall well-being. In my chosen field of orthotics and prosthetics, I plan to ensure that patient care extends beyond physical treatment to include emotional support and mental resilience. I envision developing initiatives that promote mental health awareness among both patients and colleagues, fostering a culture of empathy and understanding. This personal journey has not only made me stronger but has also equipped me with invaluable leadership skills. I now approach challenges with a balanced perspective, one that emphasizes proactive communication and holistic care. By integrating these experiences into my future endeavors, I hope to contribute to a community that values mental health as much as physical health—one where every individual feels supported, understood, and empowered to overcome adversity.

want to build a multidisciplinary community hub that brings together healthcare, technology, and education—specifically focused on orthotics and prosthetics. Drawing on my experiences in both academic research and hands-on patient care, my vision is to create a space where innovation meets compassion, and where people from different backgrounds can collaborate to improve quality of life. This hub would serve as a platform for sharing ideas, fostering creative problem-solving, and providing real-world training opportunities. I envision organizing regular workshops and seminars that bring together engineers, medical professionals, researchers, and patients. These sessions would focus on the latest advancements in prosthetic design, rehabilitation techniques, and user-centered care. By facilitating open discussions and hands-on demonstrations, we could spark new innovations that directly address the challenges patients face every day. Additionally, the community center would offer mentorship programs for students and young professionals interested in the field. I believe that by connecting experienced practitioners with emerging talent, we can cultivate a new generation of innovators who are not only technically proficient but also deeply empathetic to patient needs. This mentorship initiative would help bridge the gap between theoretical knowledge and practical application, ensuring that future advancements are grounded in real-world experience. On a personal level, building this hub is a commitment to continuously improving my own skills and broadening my perspective. It is a way for me to contribute to the community that has supported my growth, while also creating opportunities for others to thrive. I see it as a long-term investment in both my career and in the well-being of those who rely on orthotic and prosthetic care. The positive impact of this project extends beyond individual patient outcomes. By encouraging collaboration across disciplines, the hub would help break down silos in healthcare and foster an environment where innovation is shared and celebrated. In doing so, it would not only enhance the standards of care within our community but also serve as a model for other regions. Ultimately, this endeavor is about building a future where technology and human connection work hand in hand to create a better, more inclusive world for everyone.

Throughout my life, my mother has kept an open dialogue about mental health, which has had a significant impact on how I approach emotional well-being. This foundation has made it easier for me to engage in conversations about mental health, both with myself and others. This became important when my experience during the COVID-19 pandemic highlighted how external circumstances can exacerbate existing struggles. I was withdrawing from and failing courses, but I reached out to a psychiatrist, who helped me understand my mental health better. It turns out that I have ADHD, which became very apparent after being stuck behind a screen to due COVID. I know the importance of mental health in that it can shape someone's entire life, as it has shaped mine. In my current work, I apply rigid dressings to recent amputees, often being the first to talk to them about the process within days of their amputation. This interaction provides me with a unique opportunity to offer emotional support, as many patients are still processing the shock and trauma of their loss. I approach these moments with empathy, listening to their concerns, acknowledging their fears, and ensuring they feel heard and understood during a vulnerable time. This often includes discussing the emotional and psychological aspects of their journey, which are just as critical as the physical recovery. As I move forward in my studies and future career as a Certified Prosthetist-Orthotist (CPO), I aim to continue this emotional support. I want to help individuals return to the lives they feel they’ve lost, restoring not only their mobility but also their sense of identity and independence. I plan to foster an environment of trust and open communication, making sure patients feel empowered and supported in their recovery. By combining technical expertise with emotional care, I hope to be a source of strength and reassurance for those navigating both physical and emotional challenges after amputation.

I like to think I'm pretty smart. I generally did well throughout school without much effort. So why, in senior year, was I sitting in a meeting with my parents, guidance counselor, and history teacher? At the time, I didn't realize this moment foreshadowed a deeper mental health journey that would profoundly reshape my understanding of myself and the world. During senior year, I struggled with depression and anxiety. With support from my teachers and a psychiatrist, I graduated, and throughout the summer, my mind began to heal. I enrolled at Slippery Rock University in their engineering program partnered with the University of Pittsburgh. In my three years there, I maintained a 3.18 GPA through upper-level physics courses. Then came time to transfer to Pitt—unfortunately coinciding with the fall semester of 2020 during the COVID-19 pandemic. Starting at a new university online, I floundered both academically and emotionally. Two semesters of withdrawals and one of failures led to academic suspension—a shocking contrast to my previous academic identity. I slipped back into the depression and anxiety I had experienced in high school. Revisiting my psychiatrist led to an ADHD diagnosis that finally made sense of my struggles. With accommodations and proper treatment, I began to understand a fundamental truth: my brain works differently, not deficiently. This realization transformed my worldview. I developed a profound empathy for others facing invisible challenges. I recognized that intelligence manifests in diverse ways, and traditional academic structures often fail to accommodate these differences. My experience living with ADHD gave me insight into the daily obstacles faced by those with disabilities—insights that now inform my approach to patient care and relationships. My mental health journey also reshaped my social connections. Being isolated behind a screen during the pandemic highlighted how essential human connection is to my wellbeing. I discovered the rock climbing community, which became my sanctuary. These relationships sustained me through my darkest periods, teaching me the value of vulnerability and authentic connection. I learned to be open about my struggles, which in turn helped others feel comfortable sharing theirs. Most significantly, my mental health experiences redirected my career path. I discovered that I thrive in hands-on, creative work that helps others. This led me to prosthetics and orthotics—a field that perfectly blends science, art, and human connection. Working as an orthotic fitter has shown me how deeply mental and physical health are intertwined, and how crucial it is to approach healthcare holistically. Today, as I prepare to enter the Master's of Prosthetics and Orthotics program at the University of Pittsburgh, I carry forward a mission shaped by my own mental health journey: to promote wellness for people with disabilities and work toward eliminating health disparities. My experience with ADHD has taught me that effective healthcare must address both the visible and invisible aspects of disability. In my future practice, I will approach each patient with the understanding that behind every physical challenge may lie emotional and psychological ones as well. I will create spaces where patients feel seen and understood in their entirety. And in research, I will advocate for technologies that consider not just physical functionality, but quality of life and mental wellbeing. My journey through mental health challenges has transformed me from someone who defined success narrowly to someone who understands the complex interplay between mind, body, and community. This perspective will inform everything I do as I work to improve lives at this crucial intersection of engineering and compassionate care.

The first thing you notice about kids with limb differences isn’t what they’re missing—it’s what they refuse to miss out on. Whether they’re learning to walk, chasing their friends, or scaling the nearest jungle gym, they adapt with an ease that’s nothing short of inspiring. In the field of orthotics and prosthetics (O&P), this resilience is on full display. Unlike adults, children aren’t just learning to use assistive devices—they’re growing with them, constantly testing their limits and redefining what’s possible. That dynamic, ever-changing challenge is exactly what draws me to pediatric O&P. My journey into this field was not a direct one. Originally on an engineering path, I discovered O&P as the perfect fusion of science, creativity, and human connection. As I gained experience in the field, I became particularly drawn to pediatric care. Working with children requires a different mindset than working with adults. Their bodies are constantly changing, which means their orthotic and prosthetic devices must evolve just as quickly. The rapid growth of pediatric patients necessitates frequent adjustments, remakes, and a deep understanding of how to balance function with comfort. Additionally, children put an immense amount of wear and tear on their devices—whether through play, exploration, or simply refusing to be held back by their physical limitations. These challenges make pediatric O&P one of the most demanding yet rewarding specialties in the field. Beyond the technical aspects, what truly draws me to pediatric O&P is the opportunity to support children as they navigate their world. Every well-fitted brace or prosthesis is more than a medical device—it is a tool for independence, confidence, and adventure. Just as Noah’s caregivers ensured he could experience life beyond his illness, I want to ensure that children with mobility challenges have the same opportunity to run, climb, and explore without limitations. One of the unique aspects of pediatric prosthetics is the lifelong relationships clinicians often develop with their patients. Unlike in many medical fields where a patient may receive treatment for a short period and move on, pediatric prosthetists frequently work with the same individuals from childhood into adulthood. As children grow, their prostheses need to be replaced or adapted to keep pace with their changing bodies and evolving needs. This means that, as a clinician, I won’t just be providing a service—I’ll be forming lasting connections with my patients and their families, supporting them through every milestone, challenge, and triumph. I am drawn to this continuity of care, knowing that my role extends far beyond the initial fitting of a device. I want to be there when a child takes their first steps with a new prosthesis, when they confidently run onto a soccer field, and when they transition into adulthood with the skills and mobility they need to live independently. The Noah Jon Markstrom Foundation Scholarship represents a commitment to compassionate, family-centered care, and I would be honored to carry that mission forward. My goal is to specialize in pediatric O&P, using my skills to create innovative, adaptable solutions that grow with each child. With this scholarship’s support, I will continue my education and training, working toward a future where no child is limited by their mobility, and every child gets to experience the joy of movement.