Student Blog
Beginnings and Endings

Small Wins, Big Impact: Everyday Success Stories in Occupational Therapy ⟩
April 22, 2026, by Angel

Beginnings and Endings Patient Care School/Life Balance What are OS/OT?

Progress does not always look like big milestones. Sometimes, it looks like a child tying her hair for the first time.

During my pediatric OT work in the Philippines, I’ve learned that progress often shows up in the smallest, most meaningful ways.

I once worked with a young girl who wanted to tie her own hair at school. What seemed like a simple routine was actually a complex task that challenged her fine motor skills, executive functioning, motor planning, and visual perceptual abilities. Each attempt required coordination, sequencing, and persistence, but also patience, resilience, and courage to keep trying.

At school, this was not just about her appearance. It was about independence. There were times when she did not have a caregiver or teacher available to help her, and something as routine as tying her hair became a barrier to her participation and confidence.

So we practiced again and again. We broke the task down into manageable steps, used repetition, and built strategies that worked for her. Progress was not immediate, and there were moments of frustration. But then one day, she did it. She tied her hair on her own.

That moment may seem small to others, but it was everything to her. It meant she could take care of herself at school. It meant confidence, autonomy, and a sense of accomplishment she could carry into other parts of her day.

Experiences like this remind me that occupational therapy is not just about teaching skills. It is about creating access to everyday life. In my journey from practicing internationally to continuing my training in the United States, I have come to appreciate small wins in my own life. As a student, it may look like understanding a challenging concept, communicating with classmates despite language barriers, or building confidence in clinical reasoning. As a person, it can be as simple as adapting to a new environment, finding my voice, or continuing to grow through change.

This Occupational Therapy Month, I invite you to look closer at the small wins. Whether it is tying hair, buttoning a shirt, returning to work, or simply getting through a difficult day, these moments build toward something bigger.

Because in occupational therapy, small wins create lasting impact.

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Why I chose Occupational Therapy (OT) ⟩
April 16, 2026, by Az

Beginnings and Endings Community

After experiencing a firsthand experience of occupational therapy 4 years ago, I chose to pursue a career as an occupational therapist and learn more about hand therapy after a rock climbing incident. Working at an outpatient hand therapy clinic with an occupational therapist opened up a specialty/focus that I didn’t know existed.

Four years ago, I injured my thumb while rock climbing and found simple tasks such as picking up weights, pens, gripping jars and bottles challenging. Through my recovery, I worked closely with a hand therapist who not only helped me restore my strength and mobility but also showed me how meaningful it is to build rapport with your patients and help individuals regain independence. The experience gave me a deep understanding and appreciation for the complexity of the hand and the importance of occupational therapy’s holistic and client-centered approaches. Experiencing occupational therapy for myself inspired me to follow a path where I can support others through similar setbacks, helping them return to their chosen activities and routines that matter the most to them.

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From USC to Tokyo: My Level IIB Fieldwork Journey in Pediatric OT ⟩
March 11, 2026, by Guest Author

Beginnings and Endings Community Diversity Fieldwork Housing and Transportation International

Hi, my name is Alyssa Prigge, and I am a third-year Entry-Level OTD student at the University of Southern California. I am particularly interested in pediatric rehabilitation, with a focus on motor development and neurorehabilitation approaches such as NDT. Through my international fieldwork experience in Tokyo, I developed an interest in the cognitive rehabilitation approaches used in Japanese pediatric occupational therapy. I am committed to continuing to grow as a clinician and supporting children and families from diverse cultural and linguistic backgrounds through culturally responsive care.

As I touched down in Tokyo, I couldn’t help but think about how a moment of curiosity at an international fieldwork info session had turned into a life changing opportunity. My name is Alyssa Prigge and I am an Entry-Level OTD student. For my Level 2B Fieldwork, I was placed at a pediatric day service called Linie Platz Futakotamagawa, where they serve children with neurodevelopmental disorders. The reason why I decided to pursue fieldwork in Japan is due to my personal connection to the country and my interest in learning how occupational therapy (OT) is practiced in a different cultural context. As for my background, I am half Japanese and spent my childhood growing up in Tokyo before moving to the U.S.

Living Logistics

Of course, moving back to Japan for a year of fieldwork also meant figuring out the practical logistics of where I was going to live. Although I had maintained friendships in Japan by visiting every summer, I knew living in a community with others my age would be important for my mental health. I found a company called Social Apartments that offers dorm-like housing for adults seeking social connections and community. This turned out to be the best decision for me, as I have made friends not only from Japan but also from countries like Malaysia, Indonesia, Brazil, and Thailand. Fortunately, there was a Social Apartment location that was 15 minutes by bicycle or bus/short walk from my fieldwork site. This means I can avoid cramming into trains during the morning and evening rush. In terms of other logistics, my Japanese mom helped me navigate language barriers securing health insurance and setting up utilities for my apartment. Since I hold a Japanese passport, I didn’t have to worry about student visas and I was able to register for the National Health Insurance.

Life Experiences

My favorite experiences living here have been the summer firework festivals where people dress up in kimonos, eating takoyaki or okonomiyaki from street vendors, and walking through neighborhoods that each have their own personality and charm. I love exploring new restaurants that serve Japanese-style Italian food, Taiwanese dishes, and cold noodle dishes like soba and udon. As I’ve settled into daily life in Tokyo, living here has brought up a renewed awareness of my identity. Japan is a relatively homogeneous country, and as someone who is half Japanese, I have often stood out. Reconnecting with old friends from international school introduced me to a community of other mixed Japanese people who share similar experiences and have helped me embrace that difference.

Challenges

In terms of challenges I’ve experienced, I am not natively fluent so keeping up in meetings and articulating my thoughts professionally has been a learning curve. In the beginning, getting used to the constant processing and responding in Japanese was mentally taxing, causing my brain to fatigue more quickly than usual. I often rely on technology to look up unfamiliar words, transcribe and translate faster-paced conversations, and help format professional emails using keigo, the polite form of Japanese. These tools help bridge the gap in language skills that developed after living in the U.S. for over a decade. For students considering international fieldwork, I would recommend having a strong level of experience with the language and culture of the country you hope to train in, as not every site may be as accommodating to language differences as mine has been.

Opportunities

Since beginning my Level 2B fieldwork, I have learned OT practices unique to Japan through conducting small-group interventions. The daily programming blends cognitive and school-based activities (such as hiragana writing, counting, and language comprehension) with movement and balance tasks designed to support body awareness, postural stability, and coordination. Main goals in OT are to address caregiver concerns on their child’s ability to respond appropriately to environmental demands like educational and community contexts where children must function cohesively in groups. Additionally, this experience has also opened the door to opportunities I never expected, such as attending a pediatric OT conference in Yamagata, participate in Linie training conferences, presenting to OT students in Tokyo on differences between OT practice in the United States and Japan, and connecting with numerous OTs and related professionals from Osaka, Tokyo, and Kobe.

One especially meaningful experience was having the opportunity to be introduced to leadership members of the Japanese Association of Occupational Therapists (JAOT) by my supervisor, Saeko Takenaka, the director of Linie. I was able to share about my fieldwork experience in Japan and discuss similarities and differences between OT practices in both countries. Through this connection, I have been invited to observe OT practice in inpatient psychiatry, a setting I haven’t been exposed to in the U.S. Additionally, because Linie is a rehabilitation service provider with multiple locations across Tokyo serving individuals across the lifespan, I had the opportunity during Term 1 to observe a variety of clinical settings, including home rehabilitation, pediatric day services for medically complex children, an inpatient pediatric hospital, and an outpatient orthopedic clinic.

With USC’s unique and extensive global network, I have had the chance to pursue fieldwork in a place that is both personally meaningful and professionally enriching. If you have the opportunity to do international fieldwork in a country you have ties to, I would absolutely take it.

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Occupational Therapy- A Family Affair ⟩
January 21, 2026, by Trinity

Beginnings and Endings Community

At the beginning of the year and just following time with my family this holiday season, I am prompted to reflect on how I got here, now a second year in the occupational therapy doctorate program. When looking back, I started to realize that I have not been on this journey alone. There have been so many people in my corner, and I wanted to take this moment to thank them.

I got to thinking about this topic because of a photo my brother sent me recently:

The caption reads “new pincer grasp practice just dropped,” and he is holding a fork between his thumb and index finger in a traditional pincer grasp. My brother is not an occupational therapist, but he has endured countless nerdy monologues about different grasps and developmental milestones from me. Now, he will always point out when he is using a particular grasp because he knows it is what I study. As we develop as occupational therapy students, we also share what we know with those around us, including our loved ones, which is a method of advocacy in itself.

Not only has my family been subject to lecture-like soliloquies on the ins and outs of occupational therapy, but they have also been my willing guinea pigs as I trial new interventions on them. All members of my family from my smallest cousin to my great grandmother have helped me try some new occupational therapy tricks.

My grandma who was 98 years old at the time of this photo tried my balloon batting activity. I am so grateful for her.

One of the defining features of occupational therapy is the importance it holds for a client’s individual values. In fact, we may walk the client through values checklists in sessions, and as a student, I have participated in the checklist multiple times. For me, family always comes out as one of the most important values. I am grateful for my family and all they have taught me.

I have learned that family is at the heart of occupational therapy. Whether that be a spouse who has taken on the role of care partner, a parent who is worried about their child’s development,  a child who is transitioning their parent to a new living situation, or a friend who has been an active listener throughout challenges, family is almost always involved in some way. We have the responsibility to care for our clients, but we can’t forget about the people who love and care for our clients as well. As we appreciate the people who have helped us along the way, it can help us remember to acknowledge the efforts of a client’s family.

Wherever you are on your OT journey, whether you are nearing the beginning or the end, please do not forget the people who have helped you get there. They will be the ones cheering for you when you graduate, when you get your first job, and at every little moment in between. If you feel that you have not found those people yet, I guarantee you that you can find them at USC. The faculty and students here have become my family. It is with them, and with my family at home, that this journey has been possible for me. I invite you to say thank you to those who listened to you and supported you, to those who learned what occupational therapy is because you are pursuing it, those who are on this journey alongside you! We don’t do it alone, and what a blessing that is!

 

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Finding My “Just Right” at USC Chan ⟩
November 13, 2025, by Angel

Beginnings and Endings Classes Community International School/Life Balance

As occupational therapists, we often talk about finding the “just right challenge.”

It’s one of those guiding OT principles that stays with you long after you leave the classroom or the clinic—that perfect balance between too hard and too easy. It’s the sweet spot where growth happens: not so high that it leads to frustration, and not so low that it leads to boredom or disengagement.

For three years, I lived by that phrase as a pediatric occupational therapist back in the Philippines. Every session, every activity, every goal I created for my kids was built around that idea. I wanted to make sure each child was supported just right—challenged to reach a little higher, yet still confident and motivated to keep going.

Back then, “just right” was something I applied to my clients. I had always reserved it for my clients, never considering my own journey.

When I entered USC Chan three months ago, I was filled with excitement, anticipation, and a little bit of fear. I had dreamed about being part of this community for so long—a place known for excellence, compassion, and innovation in occupational therapy. I was ready to learn, to grow, and to experience what it truly means to be part of the Chan family.

But as the days turned into weeks, I was struck by just how remarkable all my classmates are. In group discussions and reflections, they shared thoughtful insights about OT, ideas that made me pause and think, “How did they come up with that?” Beyond their knowledge, I was inspired by their professional experiences, their expertise in different areas of OT back in their home countries, and their achievements, including international programs like conferences and summer exchanges abroad. Each conversation opened new perspectives, and I often found myself quietly listening, trying to absorb as much as I could.

Soon, that admiration began to turn into self-doubt.

I started to feel small, even a little insecure. I questioned my abilities and wondered if I truly belonged in a room full of such talented and articulate people. I thought, Maybe I’m not as smart. Maybe I don’t have as much to contribute.

There were moments when I stayed quiet, not because I had nothing to say, but because I doubted whether my thoughts were good enough. I began to question myself, my knowledge, my experience, and even my place here.

Then, a quiet realization began to settle in the back of my mind.

This feeling—a mix of challenge and discomfort—was familiar. I had seen it before, not in myself, but in my clients: the look of frustration when a task felt too hard, the hesitation when they weren’t sure they could succeed, and the quiet pride when they finally did something they couldn’t do before.

I realized I was living my own just right challenge.

And in adulthood, that balance can feel even more delicate. Too much challenge can lead to anxiety, burnout, or even trauma. Too little, and we risk staying in places that feel safe but stagnant.

Being a student again after years of practice is not easy. You’re reminded that growth means starting over—being open, curious, and humble enough to say, “I don’t know, but I’m willing to learn.”

Those moments of doubt weren’t signs of failure; they were signs of stretching. Maybe I felt “not enough” because I was being pushed in the best possible way: challenged, but not defeated.

I came here not to prove I’m the best, but to become better. And growth doesn’t happen in comfort. It happens when you’re surrounded by people who inspire you to think differently, reflect deeper, and reach higher.

At Chan, I’ve learned that it’s okay to not have all the answers. It’s okay to listen more than you speak. It’s okay to be in a season of learning, because that’s exactly what being a student is about.

In occupational therapy, we remind our clients and their families to trust the process. Progress doesn’t happen overnight; it unfolds through small, meaningful steps. Maybe we, as students and future occupational therapists, need to extend that same grace to ourselves—taking things one step at a time, one just right challenge at a time.

Looking back on my first few months at USC Chan, I can see how much I’ve grown, not just in knowledge, but in perspective. I’ve learned to value moments of discomfort because they mean I’m learning. I’ve learned to celebrate small wins: understanding a difficult concept, sharing an idea in class, connecting with peers from all over the world who share the same passion for OT. I’ve learned that being surrounded by people who are “better” in some ways isn’t something to fear, it’s something to celebrate. It means I’m in the right place to learn.

More importantly, I’ve learned to extend the same compassion to myself that I always gave to my clients.

Before leaving for USC, one of my patient’s mother shared a photo of me and her son in a post online as I said my goodbyes. Her words reminded me why I do what I do, and what it truly means to meet someone at their “just right” level. It’s not only about helping someone achieve their therapy goals; it’s about understanding their story, celebrating small victories, and walking beside them through both struggle and success.

So now, whenever that familiar sense of self-doubt creeps in, I tell myself: This is my just right. This is where I’m supposed to be—learning, growing, and embracing both the challenges and the joys that come with this journey.

Because life, like therapy, isn’t about being perfect. It’s about finding that balance—that meaningful middle ground—where growth happens.

And for us as adults, that “just right” isn’t just about skill: it’s about readiness to learn, a sense of safety in trying new things, and having the courage to stretch without snapping. It’s about honoring our limits while still leaning into discomfort, trusting that growth doesn’t require perfection—only presence and persistence.

And here at USC Chan, I’m learning that sometimes, being in that just right space is exactly what I need.

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