Jonelle Carter graduated from Seneca in 1996. She was babysitting actual infants at age 12 — whoever was the oldest in the house was in charge. "It was the '90s. A lot of us were latchkey kids trying to figure things out on our own." She had a strong family, she said, but outside of that, the guidance wasn't always there. Nobody was talking to teenage girls about where they'd be in ten or fifteen years.

That absence became her life's work.

Carter spent nearly 30 years after Seneca as a singer-songwriter, performing on stages around the world. She jumped into it straight out of high school, and it was all she did. Then in 2011, she was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer — a tumor wrapped around her vocal cord. The cord was paralyzed. She lost the ability to sing. Even projecting her speaking voice was difficult. "I had a year where I couldn't use my voice. And I spent a lot of time figuring out what in the world I was doing."

She was angry. Then she realized she had more to say than she'd ever said.

When her voice returned a little over a year later, she started taking stages as a speaker — not just as a musician. She wrote her first book in 2019: More Than a Country Song, a motivational memoir that became an Amazon bestseller. Her second book, Stage Lights, is a guide to helping people step into their own strengths. She lives in Morris now, travels for her speaking work, and makes a point of coming back to schools like this one.

"I was not the lead in the musical," she told the students. "I was not athletic at all. But here I am. I'm back here to really help guide and lead you."

She couldn't have imagined this when she was sitting where they're sitting.

The two students who joined the conversation — senior Camryn Stecken and junior Emma Mino — both play softball, and both are thinking about going far. Camryn is committed to the University of Alabama. Emma isn't certain yet where she'll land, but the idea of leaving appeals to her precisely because it's uncomfortable for so many people from small communities. "A lot of people are scared to, like, go far away from home," she said. "I just think that getting out and experiencing stuff is a good way to see if you can handle the world."

Camryn has led kids' camps through Seneca, put in the work across multiple sports, and watched a shift happen around her. "I feel like at Seneca, it's definitely gotten bigger," she said — pointing to the women's leadership forum the school has hosted for the past two years. This March, it expands: twelve schools, more than a hundred participants, and Seneca as the hub. Emma named it as one of the things she's genuinely looking forward to.

Camryn's framework for how she got here is simple. "I've been taught from a really young age about my character and about leading — not being a follower." At some point, she stopped measuring herself against what was typical for a small school and just decided to move. "I kind of just decided I'm going to do what I want and see how it goes from there."

Emma is still figuring out the shape of her future. She's leaning toward teaching. That impulse — toward young people, toward helping them find their footing — tracks with what Carter has spent years studying in herself. "I always try to think — who did I need back then? And then become that person."

Carter's message on confidence is different from what the word usually implies. It's not fearlessness. It's not performance. "We're all just showing up scared and doing it anyway," she said. "We're all just trying to walk each other home."

That's what she came back to Seneca to say.