Amid the Homecoming glow—banners up, horns tuning, sidewalks shuffling—Carla O’Neil’s smile represents what the season is all about: ordinary people doing extraordinary things.
This year’s Homecoming grand marshal, O’Neil, carries a message she repeats with characteristic humility: “Highlands has always embraced the little people.”
She means people like herself—neighbors, parents, grandparents—who might never expect public recognition but who form the backbone of a community.
“This honors not just me but everybody else who is just like me: an ordinary mom, a grandma—we’re all connected one to another.”
She pauses, searching for words that fit the moment. “I think being humble is a virtue, and when you have it, you see how you affect people around you.”
O’Neil’s connection to Highlands began in 1969. As a high school student, she made her way to campus on her own. “I was in high school,” she recalls. “I brought myself here with a simple question. I crossed the tracks, went to the administration building, gave them my name, and asked, ‘How do I do this? Please help me, Miss.’”
The answer began with a conversation. “She asked me what I wanted to be, and I said a teacher. I want to be a teacher.” What followed was more than encouragement—it was practical help and a cultural welcome O’Neil never forgot.
The memory still feels warm to her. “It felt welcoming, like a big hug, that feeling of support, and that you’re not alone.”
O’Neil’s story threads through Highlands, one ordinary life guiding many as they find their path: “The moment I stepped onto this campus, I felt something. Someone here believed in me before I believed in myself,” she says. “If you bring hope, Highlands is there to show you the way.”
When O’Neil learned she’d been chosen as grand marshal, the emotion was overwhelming. “I was speechless. I couldn’t even talk, and that’s not me,” she says with a laugh. “It’s a warm, bubbly feeling.”
It’s not the spotlight she loves, but the community it shines on. The role aligns with her view of Homecoming as a celebration of belonging.
Asked about her favorite tradition, she doesn’t hesitate: the parade. “The parade embraces the whole community,” O’Neil says. “It’s amazing that it’s such a big part of Homecoming tradition that everyone supports.”
For O’Neil, the parade route is a living picture of Highlands: students just finding their footing, families cheering along the curb, elders who recognize the faces and rhythms of the day.
Her words to them are as much invitation as comfort. “Once you get here you are not alone, you belong,” she says. “We, as a community, are part of your family now. And we want your parents to know that you will be loved and taken care of.”
O’Neil calls herself “a little person,” but for her, the phrase is a reminder that humility and courage can walk side by side, that asking for help is the beginning of transformation, and that each person’s path is braided to another’s. “You don’t realize the connections and ties you have with one another, and another, and another,” she says.
Her story is both personal and emblematic: a student who once crossed the tracks to ask a question now takes her place in the Homecoming procession, representing everyone who has ever wondered if they would be welcomed at NMHU. The answer she found years ago still holds: ask, and somebody will help; show up, and you belong.
As the drums roll and the floats turn onto National Avenue, O’Neil’s presence in the parade is less about the spotlight and more about bringing people along.
It’s a Highlands tradition she learned on day one: open the door, extend a hug, and make room for the next person to find their place.