Do we risk losing something profound if we let AI fully take over the thinking and ideation process in education? I ponder this as I recall Ms. Fox, my wonderfully eccentric 9th grade English teacher. She would wander between desks, eyes alight with that specialized madness known only to those who have surrendered themselves to the soul of literature.
“Why do you think Harper Lee used the imagery of the bright red geraniums? What was she trying to convey?” Her words were unhurried, giving us time to drift through our own thoughts.
Though I may have feigned nonchalance at the time, Ms. Fox awakened in me a love for deep textual analysis and the engaging with an author’s intent. I remember turning ideas over and over, my mind a whirlpool of symbolism, metaphor, and subtext. Those stretches of pure cognitive immersion were formative, shaping the kind of student – and ultimately teacher – I became.
So as AI generates more polished lesson plans, rubrics, and presentations, I wonder, where do we find those sparks of inspiration? Those philosophical meanderings that birth insights and transform how we think? Can an AI model experience the same revelations about the human condition that so elevate our teaching?
Perhaps I fret needlessly. Maybe the high-functioning AI assistants of the future, turbo-charged with unfathomable training data, will develop an artistic sensibility that outstrips even the most attuned reader. They could hand us transcendent lesson plans dripping with profound questions to ponder.
Or perhaps we need to be more intentional in carving out spaces for human-centric engagement, ideation, and mindful dwelling with the art and ideas we teach and use to teach. Quiet moments where we allow our gray matter to churn unhurried, free from efficiency using our time.
I could clearly see Ms. Fox shooing away AI tutors with a dismissive wave. “Away with your blasted handouts! We must think for ourselves!” In her grand tradition, perhaps the most powerful use of AI is not replicating aspects of teaching, but creating openings for teachers and students to immerse themselves in the luxury of prolonged cognition. To drink deeply from the well of human depth that our ancestors spent millennia recounting.
As AI’s capabilities grow, we must not lose that kernel of curiosity and spirit – that desire to understand ourselves and existence through the lens of human ideas and ideals. For me as a teacher, it’s when I plan that I think and create (albeit not always very efficiently). Having said that, I worked in international schools, where I had time to plan and create. My husband, working in a public school where he teaches five of six blocks a day and has 30+ students in each class, no longer has that luxury of time for every lesson, every day. Let the latest technologies multiply our efficiency, especially for teachers who have little time, while still carving out spaces to revel in the uniquely human experience of thinking and creating.






Leave a Reply