By Adam C. Rohdie
“The Longest Day” was a 1962 film starring many Hollywood legends to depict the hours surrounding the 1944 World War II D-Day invasion of Normandy, France. As a teacher of 8th grade American History, I want my students to understand the unbelievable sacrifice that was made and know the odds that were overcome that day. While I stick my tongue in my cheek as I write this—my ‘longest day’ happened just recently, and while it only lasted an hour, I think it has the potential to be long remembered—alongside the accomplishments of 1944.
An email came in from Karen, our lower elementary (LE) assistant, “Hi all, if anyone can help out today in Pre-K at 11:45 a.m. this would be helpful to Christie”. Being the team player that I am and seeing the hour opening in my schedule, I headed down to the LE with a spring in my step. After checking in with Karen, I arrived at the classroom door to find the children and poor co-teacher Ms. O’Keeffe, alone, hopelessly outnumbered, and preparing the class for outside play time. I was greeted with hugs and cheers—this would be a lay-up. Little Lisa was so cute; she wrapped herself around my leg and sat on my shoe…. Awww. Whenever I stepped, she just came along for the ride and giggled with the cutest giggle ever. This was the joy my day had been missing.
Fast forward 15 minutes and we were no closer to leaving the room. In fact, we were still pretty much at the same stage we were when I walked in. About half the kids had managed to follow the directions independently and were sitting quietly. The other half were in various stages of trying to turn their coats right side out or looking for their hats and gloves, and then there was Timmy. He was capable of putting on his coat, hat, and gloves—Timmy was just not interested in doing that today. And finally—Little Lisa was still attached to my leg despite my best effort to shake her off of me; and the cute giggle had turned into that laugh you hear in a movie from the villain hatching their diabolical plan.
The sweat was forming fast—I noticed a little wry smile on Ms. O’Keeffe’s face— if I could have seen the thought bubble above her head it would have said, “welcome to our reality.”
As the mental anguish started to mount—the physical pain was just beginning. Aside from sweet little Lisa still attached to my leg and I think now possibly gnawing on my calf, a whole new level of pain was introduced. You see, for each child I helped zip a coat, I was rewarded with a head butt. It turns out that the average 4-year-old’s forehead is the exact height to be weaponized against someone who stands around 6’3”.
Now, 20 minutes in and I start checking how much longer this is going to last. But wait—it looks like we were headed out the back door—the line leader was a go, the door holder had assumed her position, the end of line student was in place—here we go! We start the long walk out the back door, down the stairs, to the turf field behind the building.
When we finally made it to the field, a new game was introduced. It was something out of Lord of the Flies, as I now found myself being chased by 18 four-year-olds screaming “get him!” After 20 steps and fully out of breath, using every tool in my teaching toolbox, I gathered the troops and introduced a new game that would not have everyone chasing Mr. Rohdie. The moment I said go, Timmy ran head first into Maria, leaving them both screaming for justice and a medic.
As I looked up, I noticed the other Pre-K classes were walking down to join recess on the field with our class. It was like the enemy was sending in reinforcements. “Hey look! There’s Mr. Rohdie—get him!” Again, the seasoned Country Day Pre-K teachers just smiled and exchanged high fives behind my back.
In pain, sweating profusely despite the temperature being 30 degrees, and utterly not in control, I saw my replacement arrive. It had been exactly an hour and it felt like a month. I quickly said my goodbyes and ran for the safety of my office where the worst hurdle I would face would be to return a phone call from an upset parent.
Yet, it was during my walk back to my office that I was once again reminded of the power and influence of a skilled teacher (present company definitely excluded). I barely made it an hour—and it was recess! The teachers in our town are true heroes. They have been heroes everyday for years and these past two years they have been asked to step up in ways that prior to the pandemic were unimaginable. As debates rage about mask mandates or what books should be in a library, I hope everyone can take a moment to realize the impact of a teacher is infinite. As Henry Addams once said, “a teacher affects eternity for they know not where their influence ends.”
Once recovered from my ‘longest day’ in Pre-K, I walked back to check in on my friends and they are sitting nicely at their desks, they are learning to read, they are learning to compute numbers, and they are learning to be kind. This is possible because the students are in the hands of the very best teachers and role models. Our teachers make sacrifices, putting the children in their care first every day, beating the odds of any number of barriers to learning—pandemics included—to ensure our students are known and loved and are well prepared for what comes next. How lucky are we?
Adam C. Rohdie is the Head of School for Greenwich Country Day School, the only co-educational, Nursery-Grade 12, college preparatory day school in Greenwich.
