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Sharing the Pride and Purpose of Teutopolis Schools

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Staging the Scaffolding

In Teutopolis, two people who show up for their own children have discovered something even better: showing up for everyone else's.

When Tracy and Keith Dennis came to Teutopolis in 2009, they weren't really coming home to stay.


Tracy had grown up here, graduating from Teutopolis High School in 1999 before studying film and television production at Southern Illinois University in Carbondale and heading west to Los Angeles. Keith grew up near Portland, Oregon. They met while working for a production company in L.A., married, moved to Boston and began building careers and a family.


Then two children arrived in quick succession, and the distance from family began feeling considerably greater. So, they returned to Teutopolis as something of a way station: a place to catch their breath, get help from Tracy's family and figure out what came next.


What came next, it turned out, was staying.


Today, their oldest son, Luke, is studying engineering at Rose-Hulman Institute of Technology. Daughter MJ is a Teutopolis senior considering film school. Penny, a freshman, is the athlete of the family.


And Keith and Tracy have become something else: two members of an extraordinary network of parents and community members who help make Teutopolis schools work. Not simply for their children. For everyone's.


"The parents just step through and give up their time and talent and resources to fill in the cracks." That's Tracy's description, and she's lived it. Before joining the district's Fine Arts Boosters board, she volunteered to help costume a school production of Annie. She discovered a storage area full of costumes and spent hours organizing it so people could find what they needed. One production became another, and eventually she costumed four shows.


Then came Frozen.


MJ had been cast as Olaf, but the available costume was a giant inflatable snowman, ill-suited to Teutopolis High School's small stage. Keith thought he could do better. As a high school theater kid, he'd once helped his mother build two of the four puppets used to bring Audrey II, the man-eating plant from Little Shop of Horrors, to life. Decades later, he studied the Olaf puppet used in professional productions and decided to build one himself.


"I bet I could make one of those."


So he spent a couple of months cobbling together an Olaf puppet, with plenty of improvisation and, naturally, duct tape. It worked. More importantly, his daughter got the experience her parents wanted her to have.


"We both had such great theater experiences as kids," Keith says. "We just wanted to make sure that our kids had an experience that lived up to that, so that they could have that transformative experience, too."


That instinct rarely stops at the edge of one's own family. When his nephew, Jackson, emerged as one of the Scholar Bowl team's standout players and the previous coach stepped down, Keith took over, wanting Jackson to have a coach who'd match his effort. The team has since grown to 19 students, an impressive number for any Scholar Bowl team, much less a school Teutopolis's size, and Keith believes this year's group may be the best the school has ever fielded.


Tracy volunteers with track. She loves watching her own daughter compete, of course. But ask about the experience and she quickly starts talking about everybody else's kids, the meet when athletes throughout the roster kept setting personal records and she spent the entire weekend "on cloud nine."


"The kids work hard," she says. "It's fun to watch them grow."


That may help explain something outsiders occasionally find surprising about Teutopolis. Keith remembers friends moving into the area and researching schools. When they saw Teutopolis ranked so highly among Illinois districts, they assumed the data must be wrong. It wasn't.


What rankings cannot easily measure is the community surrounding the school. Teutopolis is small enough that students don't necessarily have to choose an identity at 13 and spend adolescence perfecting it. Athletes can perform in plays. Musicians can compete academically. STEM kids can explore art. Tracy and Keith's three children have distinctly different interests, yet all have participated across the spectrum because, as Tracy puts it, "they can."


And behind those opportunities are adults willing to drive, coach, organize, sew, build, fundraise, encourage and simply show up. Tracy calls it scaffolding: resources the community doesn't distribute equally on its own, spread outward by parents who invest beyond their own households, so a child whose family can't provide every opportunity still benefits from the adult who coaches the team, organizes the costumes or builds the puppet.


That is how community becomes infrastructure.


Keith, who has lived on both coasts, describes Teutopolis simply as "Mayberry." And he means that in all of the best ways nostalgia suggests. Still, what makes the community remarkable isn't nostalgia. It's something more active. People see a gap, and they step into it. A costume needs organizing. A puppet needs building. A runner needs someone celebrating a personal best.


And somewhere along the way, two people who came to Teutopolis intending only to catch their breath discovered why they’ve never left.

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