Before my freshman year of high school, I faced one of the most challenging life events as a young man. I am heavily involved in track and field and cross country. Running was my foundation, my life, and my passion. Coming into my freshman year, I tore my growth plate from my hip, and life as I knew it stopped. Since my father was in the military, we were in the process of moving. Help was not immediate, so I was forced to wait. Competition stopped immediately. I was forced to be still for the first time in a long time. Silence was almost deafening, and immobility left me feeling powerless. I was forced to leave my friends, my community, and home in the blink of an eye, without any say. Fast forward to the end of the move, I am finally able to get seen and get X-Rays, where the doctor tells me that I tore my growth plate from my hip and I will need six to eight months of physical therapy. Hearing the news broke me more than I was physically. My spirit was broken, and I all but knew that I would not be the same after recovery. I started high school shortly after that doctor's visit. I was in a new school, and nobody knew me. I was alone, and it felt like everything about me was stripped away in an instant. A few weeks after school started, I went to my first physical therapy appointment. My plan was to get in and out as quickly as possible and beat the odds to show that I did not lose everything. During that time in the clinic, I came out of my shell and started to open up. My two therapists, who worked with me through every step of recovery, helped me realize that life will knock you down, but how you respond dictates the outcome. Once I grasped that concept and realized that my injury was not the end of who I was, but the beginning of discovering who I am, life started to get better week after week, and I started to grow beyond an athlete. I set a goal to go in every day with the attitude that today is a day that I can make a difference. I fully committed to rehab and worked day in and day out to become stronger than before. I worked at home, repeating exercises even when I wanted to quit. Despite wanting to give up, my mental discipline grew and became key in recovery, helping me realize that progress often came in small doses. I chose to dedicate as much time as possible to recover, not to return to who I was, but to go back knowing who I am. I chose to view my circumstance as less of suffering and more as a blessing of learning. Through all of this, I can say that I learned who I am beyond an athlete, and three years later, I am better than ever before. My view on setbacks and life changed for the better because of what I went through. I now take positivity into every adverse situation and deal with life with the mindset that adversity is the path to a better version of who I am. I plan to continue in a career of physical therapy to make a difference in the lives of children who deal with long term illness and disability. My goal is to make a difference just as my therapists did for me when I felt like I had lost everything.

“Live like Bentley.” A saying I dwell on often wondering, how can I measure up to the compassion, courage, and love that 13 year old Bentley Firster displayed in his four year battle with a midline glioma? Bentley is like most, a kid with normal passions: he loves to build Lego, play outside with his siblings, and Disney is always a passionate conversation. In 2022, his battle with brain cancer began at only nine years old. Despite the diagnosis and the toll of radiation and chemotherapy, Bentley's larger than life smile continued. Bentley displayed joy and love to everyone he came in contact with and ensured that by the end of the conversation you were happier than when you got there. In fall of 2025, Bentley's tumor spread, treatments were stopped and a terminal diagnosis was given. Although his diagnosis worsened, his attitude toward life did not. Bentley met the darkness with light and a joy that spread to all those around him. In April of 2026, Bentley won his battle with cancer, only this time he would not be with us to celebrate. Bentley lost his life to his brain tumor, but was healed on the other side of eternity. Through his battle, I grew in strength and courage to know that, despite suffering, joy is always an option. Even after his battle is over, I continue to spread Bentley's story: the kid who could not be moved, the one who made jokes and gave hugs to all family and strangers alike, and most importantly the kid who shined his light in the darkest of times. When his diagnosis became terminal, I began a fundraiser “Brownies for Bentley” in my junior year of high school. The mission was simple: help Bentley do what he wanted to do, not what a diagnosis said he could not do. As the weeks went by, the brownie sales exploded from baking two or three batches to baking over fifteen a night. I was met with un-rivaled support from those around me. The fundraiser was schoolwide with support pouring in from everywhere for one cause, to aid the fulfillment of Bentley’s adventures. Over six hundred dollars were raised in just a month of being active. When we surprised his mom with the donation at the end of the year, she was in tears because she could not believe so many people that they did not know could love and care so much for her little boy. The fundraiser eventually evolved into “Run4Bentley”, a tag I and another runner came up with where the varsity track and cross country teams would write on their arms before competing. In doing so, that tag allowed for Bentley's story to be shared with countless people and only further spread awareness of childhood brain cancer. By meeting Bentley's needs, the community around me grew closer through the countless hours spent working to make a difference in his life and bring awareness. The impact Bentley's story had on me gave me hope and purpose to help him and strive each day to help those who are hurting or in need. This scholarship will help me achieve my goal of earning a degree in exercise science to become a physical therapist and work with children with life threatening conditions like Bentley. I plan to devote my career and life to living like Bentley: the kid who had shown love and joy down to his final moments, the one who never let someone go without a hug and a smile, and who always put others' needs before his own.