Terry Maxwell grew up expecting to work in a factory. That's what his father did, and he was prepared to follow. Then he had a strong enough football season that colleges took notice, and a teacher-coach at St. Joe-Ogden named Mr. Schacht gave him a different picture of what a life in education could look like. "If I'm gonna do anything, I'm trying to be like Mr. Schacht," he remembered thinking.

He became a teacher. He became a coach. He's taught science at Seneca since 2012 — first as an assistant football coach, then in 2021 as head coach and the architect of something that has grown beyond the field.

Before his first season as head coach, his high school coach, Dick Duval — the man he calls his real inspiration as a head coach — died. Maxwell took over the program after that loss. One of the first things he did was reach out to Ryan Lucchese, the defensive coordinator at Muskego High School in Wisconsin, whose leadership program Maxwell had heard about on a podcast. Muskego was bigger, the resources were different, but the idea was sound. Maxwell adapted it. "If you're going to preach something in your culture, you need to teach it and model it, or you can't expect the kids to know what they're doing with it."

The program runs on Wednesday nights after practice. Voluntary. Mixed groups — freshmen with seniors, deliberately — phones away, opening questions to get people talking, and then reading. Each year, a different book. Year one: The Twin Thieves, built around fear of failure and fear of judgment. Then, The Energy Bus by Jon Gordon. Chop Wood, Carry Water. Others. "I don't have all the answers," Maxwell said. "There are smarter people than me who've gotten some good stuff."

They're in their fifth year now. The current seniors — Cam Shriey and Brady Sheedy, among them — have been through all four iterations of the curriculum. Some players from the first year have gotten the sayings tattooed. An assistant coach relayed a story about program alumni who started a business and told him how the lessons from The Twin Thieves still shape the way they treat people.

Maxwell has given up time with his family to build this. He said so plainly: "I've given up a lot of time with my family, so I want to make sure the time I've put in has been lasting for these guys. Wins on a field — all that stuff fades. If you're left with some things you can take with you for life, then that makes me feel better about the time I spend away from my family."

Cam came into freshman year as a baseball player who had little interest in football. By now, it had changed the way he sees things. "Football's really changed my perspective." Brady came in at 150 pounds because his dad wanted him to try it, still more interested in basketball. By sophomore year, something shifted. "I just fell in love with it. It taught me what another family was."

When I asked each of them what Maxwell had meant, Cam kept it simple: "Not only a better football player, but a better person." Brady went further. "I honestly could go on and on about this man. He's stuck with me since I was a 150-pound little freshman. He's taught me how to be a better person, a better man. He'll come up to me after every game and encourage me. If I have a bad game — he's meant the world to me through these last four years, and I seriously would not want another coach."

Maxwell listened. "That's why you coach, honestly."

This year, Seneca played St. Joe-Ogden — Maxwell's school, Mr. Schacht's school. He coached against the man who had changed his life. Seneca won. After the game, he told Schacht: "I'm not here tonight if not for you."

The program has been good for wins, Maxwell said — he thinks his players are calmer in tight games because they have something to hang their hat on when the pressure rises. But the wins aren't the point. "I've got all these guys ready," he said, watching the seniors. "Sad to see them go, but I know they're ready."

He also coaches track. He teaches science. He reads books on Wednesday nights with teenagers after practice. He is, by his own accounting, trying to be like Mr. Schacht.