Optimisism about the future of education in a world of AI

Ethan Mollick, writing for One Useful Thing:

I actually think the opposite is true: education will be able to adapt to AI far more effectively than other industries, and in ways that will improve both learning and the experience of instructors.

During a recent meeting with my district's Literacy Coaches, I saw an opportunity to introduce ChatGPT and help them understand how it could generate assessment prompts using a new technical format they had recently learned. The coaches identified a grade level and subject area, and I used ChatGPT to generate multiple assessment prompts. The prompts were not only coherent and grammatically correct, but they also perfectly fit the specifications learned at the training.

The coaches were amazed at the speed and accuracy of ChatGPT's responses. This was their first exposure to the technology. By demonstrating ChatGPT's capabilities, they were able to see the potential benefits that AI could bring to planning instruction.

With AI, teachers can quickly generate materials and assessments, saving time and allowing them to focus on individualized student support. Additionally, AI can analyze student data and provide personalized recommendations, helping teachers better understand each student's strengths and needs. By showing teachers these benefits through hands-on experiences early on, we can build their confidence and encourage more integration in the classroom.

Strong systems are mandatory for keeping schools running through turnover

Elizabeth Dampf, Director of Professional Learning at Round Lake Area Schools, writing for ASCD:

"The amount of time new teachers spend running around finding answers is wasteful, and they know it. Teachers who quit usually cite lack of support as their main reason, even in districts that have mentoring programs and PLC structures. Attrition among new teachers was high even before the pandemic: In 2019, the Economic Policy Institute found that more than half of teachers reported feeling unsupported, causing a quarter to consider quitting as a result. So, where's the disconnect? For my money, it's in the lack of organizational support—in other words, the lack of clear processes and easily accessible resources."

Clear procedures and policies are like caffeine for the entire school. They provide the energy and direction needed to keep things moving, even when the days get long.

Imagine working at a hospital where there are no clear rules about how to clean equipment or treat patients. Can you imagine the chaos and danger that would ensue? Yet, in education, we often expect new teachers to figure things out on their own, with little help or direction. It's unacceptable. We need to put clear systems and procedures for our teachers at the top of our list, just like hospitals put safety protocols at the top of their list for their patients. It's not just about making sure things run smoothly; it's also about making sure our students and staff are safe and do well.

ChatGPT Will End High-School English

Daniel Herman, teacher at Maybeck High School in Berkeley, CA, writing about the impact of AI on writing for The Atlantic:

I believe my most essential tasks, as a teacher, are helping my students think critically, disagree respectfully, argue carefully and flexibly, and understand their mind and the world around them. Unconventional, improvisatory, expressive, meta-cognitive writing can be an extraordinary vehicle for those things. But if most contemporary writing pedagogy is necessarily focused on helping students master the basics, what happens when a computer can do it for us? Is this moment more like the invention of the calculator, saving me from the tedium of long division, or more like the invention of the player piano, robbing us of what can be communicated only through human emotion?

Not too long ago, the ability to effectively communicate through writing was a critical differentiator in the job market. However, with the rise of AI, this will soon no longer be the case. The new differentiation will instead be between those who can simply produce coherent text and those who can skillfully leverage the technology to enhance their own creativity and produce truly exceptional writing.

As educators, we must now ask ourselves: How can we best prepare our students to work hand-in-hand with AI, using it to augment their writing process and push the boundaries of their creativity, instead of letting it replace their originality altogether?

How I Started (circa 2007)

I stumbled upon an archive of documents I created in 2007, my third year of teaching. Nested six folders deep inside a directory labeled “School,” I found a document called AP Lesson Plan - Introduction - Day 1. In 2007, I taught two sections of AP Psychology to 11th and 12th graders. This was the document I used to draft my ideas for starting that class. Looking at it, two things stand out to me.

First, I was much more intentional than I remember. In this lesson plan, I listed goals, materials, action steps, and student deliverables. The plan reads like something I intended to hand to someone else down the road, yet that was never my goal. I remember spending a lot of time writing plans like this thinking it would save so much time later in my career. It did.

Second, I didn’t review my syllabus on the first day of class. Instead, I performed a magic trick to get them thinking about the need for control in psychological experimentation. Along with the trick, I shared a long, obviously ficticious, story about hitting my head over the summer and awakening a clairvoyant; I could see the future. The trick backed up my far-fetched claim with some fairly convincing (or at least entertaining) data.

Their task was to identify aspects of my demonstration (variables) that would disprove my claim. I would collect their ideas on the board. When all ideas appeared to be exhausted, I would have them prioritize the ideas down to the one (independent) variable they think would be most likely to disprove my clairvoyance.

I remember being hung up on the difference between psychology, the science, and the kind of psychology my students see and hear about on television. I wanted to make an early impression that, by controlling variables, we can make educated predictions that test psychological phenomenon, and that this was the type of psychology we would be studying in my class: the kind that is testable and scientific.

I never assessed their understanding of experimental design; it wasn’t yet my goal. I simply wanted to demonstrate that clear, nerdy thinking about something as silly as a magic trick, could lead to deeper understanding. And, I wanted to have fun. This was, after all, my students’ first introduction to me, their teacher, and psychology, the subject they would be studying with me over the next year. I didn’t want this day to be about rules, processes, or my pet peeves. I wanted it to be about fun and science!

My first homework assignment for them was to do three things:

  1. Read and understand the entire syllabus.
  2. Give their parents my introduction letter.
  3. Return their signed parent statement by the end of the week.

The very next class started with a quiz over the syllabus. In hindsight, it was pretty nitpicky, but remember this was an AP class and I was trying to instill a high expectation. For most students, it worked. They came in with a firm understanding of my syllabus. For all, it sent the message that I would hold them accountable to the work I asked them to complete.

After quizzing them on the syllabus and answering questions on the second day of class, we’d get to know each other, employing a series of cognitive strategies until everyone knew each others’ names.

We’d start content on the third day, which because of block scheduling didn’t come until the second week of school.

That’s how I started my year as a teacher in 2007.