Is “fun” the first thing that comes to mind when imagining writing a 250-page doctoral dissertation on Napoleon? How about spending over a decade rewriting that dissertation into a book? Or, matching wits with—and sometimes losing to—Varsity Quiz Bowlers half your age? Perhaps spending scores of hours reading each and every Upper School admission application (on top of teaching a full load of courses)?
These are all Upper School History teacher Dr. Mark Ehlers’ ideas of fun—his face lights up when he speaks of them. What seems to enliven this lover of learning the most, though, is creating spaces where his students can learn the art of textual analysis and civil discourse, experience a sense of belonging, and have their own fun—even if that involves climbing a tree.
Read on to learn more about what makes this Army Commander-turned-academic tick.
What led you from the military to a career in teaching, and how are the two connected?
My parents told me in high school that if I wanted to attend anything other than an in-state public school, I’d need to find significant scholarships. The Army ROTC seemed like the best solution—it covered tuition, room, and board for four years of college, and the Army had the shortest service obligation of the ROTC programs. I signed up in August of 2001, thinking I’d spend five years in the Army after college—maybe do a tour in Bosnia—and then get out.
Then September 11 happened. Everything changed. I ended up serving for over 12 years, including 15 months in Iraq and nine months in Jordan. When I was in college, I realized I wanted to stay in long enough to teach at West Point, like one of my JMU [James Madison University] professors. Teaching U.S. History and Civil War courses at West Point [United States Military Academy] made me fall in love with the classroom. So when I turned in my paperwork at the end of my tour of duty, I headed to Davidson Day School in North Carolina.
My military experience—including nearly two years in an active war zone and a remote camp—gives me a unique perspective, and while I wondered at first if being a veteran would be a challenge at a Quaker school, the community here has been incredibly welcoming. Although I’m not a pacifist, I’ve developed a much clearer understanding of what peace means—and doesn’t mean—and I think it’s important for students to hear diverse viewpoints.
What attracted you to SSFS, and what keeps you here?
I moved to the D.C. area when my partner got a teaching position nearby, and I was lucky enough to find an opening at SSFS in the fall of 2021. What stood out to me immediately—amidst the many independent schools in the area—was the sense of community here.
I interviewed during the height of the pandemic, and remember teaching my guest lesson on Zoom. I saw all these bright young faces looking at me, and I introduced myself. Immediately, a student privately messaged me to let me know that everyone at SSFS goes by first names [stemming from the School’s Quaker value of equality]. (Side note: that was quite a change from the formality of the military!) I was struck by the fact that a student was kind enough to send me—an adult they’d never met before—a private message rather than confronting me publicly. It was so encouraging and emblematic of the spirit of community I’ve found here—it’s the thing I love the most about SSFS.
Sandy Spring students are such a wonderful, quirky bunch. They’re not the type of kids who are stabbing each other in the back to get into Harvard or Yale. They’re more interested in pursuing their passions, having fun, and being themselves. They want to climb trees—we actually have to have a bit in the handbook about which trees on campus you can climb! I often think that I would’ve been a more successful high school student if I’d had the chance to go to a school like this.
And the faculty are amazing—I so genuinely enjoy working with my colleagues in the History Department. We all come from different backgrounds and have different strengths, and we all learn from and support each other. There’s a sense of optimism because of the strength and unity of the faculty—I couldn’t ask for better colleagues, mentors, and friends.
You wear several other “hats” beyond your teaching role—can you share a bit about them?
I’m an advisor for the physical disabilities affinity group—affectionately called the Spoonies—where we provide space for students with chronic illness and physical disabilities to be themselves and be together, sharing their successes and frustrations.
For the last few years, I’ve been supporting Eduardo [Polón P ’18, Global Languages Department Head and Quiz Bowl Coach] with Quiz Bowl, especially since I participated in high school. I’m in awe of the program we have here. I play right along with them sometimes, and it’s so much fun to match wits with the best we have—and they like beating their teacher!
I also am a member of the Upper School Admission Committee. That means I get to go through every Upper School application—and there are many each year!—to help decide which kids are most mission-appropriate for SSFS. It’s time-consuming but a lot of fun. I take the responsibility seriously—I want to make sure those we admit are the students who can really thrive here.
This year, I became the advisor to Model UN. I’m learning as we go, and in true SSFS form, the two passionate lead delegates have been very patient and told me what they need from me.
And, like many teachers, I’m an academic advisor. I have a group of ten 10th graders who I’ll stay with through graduation. Advisory is the place where we build community. It happens in three main ways: the students grow together to become friends; learn to hold themselves accountable, problem solve as needed, and advocate for themselves; and communication is prioritized—between the School and students and the School and families. It’s important for parents to know their student is being taken care of, so I act as the first point of contact for questions and concerns.
What inspired you to write your upcoming book, Napoleon in America: Bonaparte and the Rhetoric of Empire, 1800-1850, and how has it influenced your teaching?
When I first went to grad school, I thought I’d focus on the American Civil War. But after my dissertation advisor retired right after I started my master’s, I had to shift gears. I ended up finding a new advisor who specialized in early American history. She told me, “You have to find a topic I can help you with.”
During research for another class, I came across a story about a disagreement between Martin Van Buren and a political rival that degenerated into a fistfight on the Senate floor—essentially over Napoleon’s influence. That’s when I realized that Napoleon was everywhere. But, no one had really answered the question of what Napoleon meant to Americans. I focused less on Napoleon and more on how Americans interpreted him as they were building their own empire and identity.
Book writing has been a long process—and a lot of fun! I started adapting my 250+-page dissertation to a book manuscript in 2013 and, in the process, have completely rewritten it twice. One of the biggest challenges has been making the material accessible to a wider audience beyond just scholars. For instance, I couldn’t assume that book readers would understand terms that are second nature to my dissertation audience, like “Hegelian dialectic.”
Even when major comments came back from the peer review process (one of the gateways to publishing in the academic world)—including the recommendation to write another entire chapter, which I spent last summer doing!—I’ve enjoyed the process. Writing a book was always something I wanted to do. My identity as a scholar means leaving a bit of a mark on the historical record and engaging in the larger academic conversation.
Even though the book won’t be published until fall 2025, it’s already impacted my teaching. I really appreciate that SSFS’s History Department is focused on students doing authentic work and making history relevant. But when my students (understandably) struggle with the academic writing process, I share my own peer reviews with them, showing them how harsh professional reviewers can be and how that feedback improves the work. I connect with them by sharing and being vulnerable.
How do you approach civil discourse in the classroom, especially during contentious times like elections?
I’ve been able to do quite a bit of thinking on this, especially because one of my roles at SSFS has been working on a strategic planning committee focused on civil discourse. It comes down to not shying away from difficult conversations, but about laying the groundwork so that you’ve created a space where everyone feels safe to express their views. That safety comes from a sense of belonging, which is built on shared values—the SPICES [Quaker values of Simplicity, Peace, Integrity, Community, Equality, and Stewardship] are that bedrock we build on.
In the classroom, I regularly reframe our goal from having a debate or winning an argument to being scholars and informed citizens who understand the points for and against each topic. It’s about discourse rather than debate.
We use language like, “I hear you saying…” to coach students to really listen to each other. We ground our conversations in the school’s Quaker values, like peace and community. Even if students disagree on specific issues, we can agree on the importance of these core values.
One of the most rewarding experiences I’ve had at SSFS was leading a “context-setting session”—a resource the School provides to students in the wake of a significant global event—on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict after the events of October 7th. At any other school, I would have been scared to tackle such a sensitive subject. Here, people back you up and give you grace. I volunteered to lead because of how supportive the community is. The History Department worked closely with the OIEJB [Office of Institutional Equity, Justice, and Belonging] to ensure we presented the material as accurately and neutrally as possible. Students were able to ask tough questions, and the session went really well—students and teachers came up to me afterward to share how valuable they found it.
Do you have a favorite memory from your time at SSFS?
We teach students to write from documentary evidence beginning in 9th grade—it's a challenging new skill for many of them. By 11th grade, they’re tackling texts that are so tough that plebes at West Point would struggle with them.
One ninth grader literally collapsed to the floor in tears of overwhelm and confusion when they were asked to do textual analysis for the first time. Fast forward two years, I had the opportunity to teach that same student in 11th grade. When they were confronted with a very challenging text, they literally rolled up their sleeves and said, “I’m ready; let’s do this!”
Their final paper was magnificent. It presented a beautiful argument and earned a perfect score. When the student saw the result, they cried happy tears and shared the accomplishment with everyone who supported them along the way. Seeing the joy and confidence built over the course of three years was so fulfilling.
I love this school and this community—I’m so glad I have the opportunity to be a part of it.