Spring | 2026
Finding Her Voice
“I felt like she gained a lot of confidence because she was very shy. Now she’s not.”

For Caroline Bawinkel, Forreston isn’t just the place where she goes to school. It’s the place where her story begins.
She has lived here her entire life. Her father went to high school in the area, her two younger siblings are following in her footsteps through the same halls, and now, as a senior preparing to graduate, Caroline finds herself at the edge of something new—a fall enrollment at Illinois State University.
“It’s exciting,” she says. “Scary.”
When she looks back on her years at Forreston, one word rises above the rest: people.
“This is everyone I know,” she says. “I feel like I know everyone at the school.”
That familiarity runs deeper than hallway friendships. It’s about relationships built over years—classmates she’s grown up alongside, teachers who offered encouragement at just the right moment. One of those early influences came in fifth grade.
“Mrs. Yeager was my fifth-grade teacher,” Caroline recalls. “She’s one of the nicest people I know. She’s always so encouraging.”
Even for a student who generally did well academically, those moments mattered. Mrs. Yeager had a way of recognizing when Caroline felt anxious and helping her through it.
“I felt like she kind of believed in me,” Caroline says. “I feel like she’s been kind of a role model.”
Caroline has played French horn in band for all four years—though she credits Mr. Cunningham with recruiting her. “He tricked me into it,” she says. After the older horn players graduated, she held down the section alone for two years before two freshmen arrived to join her. She played softball throughout high school, tried volleyball and basketball before deciding those weren’t her fit, and joined Spanish Club.
But it was athletics, more than anything, that taught her something she didn’t expect.
For much of her younger life, Caroline was uncomfortable being the center of attention. “I haven’t liked being seen,” she says. “I don’t want people watching me.”
Standing on a volleyball court or softball field changed that. Those moments felt intimidating at first. But watching older teammates helped—upperclassmen who stepped up unafraid to make a play and unafraid to make a mistake. That gave her permission to do the same.
“Being a freshman and missing a ground ball would just really stick with me,” she says. “Now, I know I play so much better when I’m just doing what I do. Just playing freely.”
She carries that lesson beyond the field. “Everyone makes a mistake. It happens. You just got to keep moving, doing what you do.”
That perspective—growth over perfection—has shaped her plans for what comes next. At Illinois State, Caroline will major in communication sciences and disorders with the goal of becoming a speech pathologist. The path was shaped by something deeply personal.
Her younger sister was born with a tracheal condition that affected her breathing and led to tongue issues she still works to manage. Working with a speech specialist helped her develop not just clearer speech but something bigger.
“I felt like she gained a lot of confidence because she was very shy,” Caroline says. “Now she’s not.”
That transformation left a lasting impression. Through Forreston’s Education pathway program, Caroline has already begun exploring the field. Once a week, she observes speech pathologist Kara Bruning working with a student who uses an iPad to build sentences while developing the ability to speak them aloud. On other days, she helps third graders in reading sessions, working on spelling, prefixes, and foundational literacy.
Caroline comes from an education family. Her mother is a teacher. An aunt teaches kindergarten . An uncle works at the Air Force Academy. She sees her own path as different—but connected. “I’m doing my own thing,” she says, “but still the same vibe.”
Her original plan was to attend Highland Community College and save money. But after visiting Illinois State with a friend, something clicked. The campus felt welcoming, class sizes were manageable, and the distance was right—close enough to come home, far enough to grow.
“I want to be financially responsible,” she says. Scholarship support from the Max Wenzel Educational Trust, combined with a special education tuition waiver she plans to use, helped make that four-year path possible.
In a place like Forreston, where everyone knows one another, Caroline Bawinkel has grown not only as a student but as a person ready to help others discover the confidence she once saw bloom in her own sister. The voice she hopes to help others find is one she understands deeply—because in many ways, she has been discovering her own.
