For Bill and Maranda Martin, the story of Teutopolis is both deeply personal and generational. Both born and raised in T-Town, they walked the same hallways their children now do. Bill graduated with the Class of 1996, Maranda in 1998. The two met in high school P.E., remained friends for years, and eventually began dating after college. Careers first carried them to St. Louis, but even as they built their lives there, the goal was always the same: come home.

That return came in 2012. With three children at the time—and the possibility of a fourth—the Martins knew they wanted their kids to grow up surrounded by family, and to experience the same environment they cherished as students themselves. Thirteen years later, they are parents to a senior daughter, a set of freshman twins, and a fourth grader. Their house is lively, their schedules full, but their decision to return has only grown in meaning.

Ask Maranda what makes Teutopolis special, and she answers without hesitation: the support.

“It’s present at every level,” she says. “Athletics, academics, band concerts, garage band nights—people show up. Our kids won a junior high state championship, and the streets were lined with people cheering them on. But it’s not just sports. You can’t find a seat at a band concert, and when kids put themselves out there, whether it’s Scholastic Bowl or something creative, the community claps for them. That’s what matters.”

Bill echoes that same sentiment. “We see it in baseball, we see it in concerts, we see it in how families rally around one another. When our junior high team won regionals, every player took pictures not only with their parents, but with siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncles—sometimes twenty people in a photo. That’s what sets T-Town apart.”

That support is only one layer. There is also, Maranda notes, “an expectation of excellence.” It isn’t about perfection or every student carrying a 4.0 GPA. It’s about effort—about caring enough to give your best.

“Our senior once said, ‘It’s cool to care,’” Maranda recalls. “That’s the mentality here. Try your best, balance your commitments, put in the work. And when you do, the community stands with you.”

At the Junior High, where discussion is ongoing about a possible inclusion of sixth grade—and across all three buildings—leadership has been remarkable. The Martins noted the strength of leadership as being key to the District’s success. Of Mr. Drees at the Junior High, Bill says. “He sets high expectations, but he makes kids feel seen. Whether it’s celebrating their fan section winning an award or holding them accountable in small ways, he builds excellence into everyday life.” The philosophy of addressing the little things before they become big ones—ensures discipline without severity. Students accept responsibility, learn from small consequences, and move forward with pride intact. He’s quick to add, however, that he sees real unity and excellence in leadership across the District.

If community is the engine, family is the fuel. The Martins point to Teutopolis’ strong family structures as the foundation for everything else.

“It’s the family unit that makes this all possible,” Bill says. “When kids succeed, they don’t just celebrate with a parent. They celebrate with grandparents, cousins, neighbors. It’s everybody’s win. That’s a culture you can’t buy in suburbia, no matter how much money you spend.”

That culture extends to the Martins themselves. Both serve on the Sportsbackers committee, with Bill joking that while he carries the title of president, “she’s really the president.” Together with other volunteers, they help raise nearly $100,000 annually for student athletics. It’s one more way families fuel the legacy of excellence.

The Martins are also candid: sustaining this legacy requires more than tradition. Today’s students face a competitive landscape. College admissions, athletic opportunities, and career readiness all demand modern facilities. While Teutopolis excels in spirit, there is recognition that infrastructure must catch up.

“There’s an awareness that upgrades are needed,” Maranda notes. “Especially at the grade school, but also at the high school. The challenge is figuring out how to make it happen.”

They point to past debates over funding—whether through referendums, sales tax, or private donations—as evidence of both the challenges and the resilience of their community. While opinions differ on the best path forward, the Martins believe in the strength of Teutopolis to ultimately do what’s right for its kids.

In the end, the Martins’ story is not about taxes or buildings. It is about belonging. It is about a family who left, built a life elsewhere, and were drawn home not because of nostalgia, but because they knew the kind of tradition and values-based upbringing they wanted for their children.

Teutopolis, with its traditions of excellence, its culture of caring, and its strength of family, offers something rare. It offers a legacy worth sustaining.

“As parents, we can’t imagine being anywhere else,” Bill says. “We believe we made the right decision coming back. This community invests in its kids, and it has for generations. Our hope is that it always will.”