One of the bi-products of this moment in time is that there’s a real sense of AI fatigue that sets in: AI is everywhere, all of a sudden, and whether you’re embracing or resisting that, it can feel exhausting.
How can we use this moment to reject both framings: that AI is inevitable on the one hand, or that the rejection of AI is somehow diminishing education on the other hand, and instead imagine how we can create, together, a future where all kids receive excellent education? What does that look like?
Education belongs to all of us—it should be a democratic project. We shouldn’t get our way all of the time, but all of us—whether we have kids or not—should feel deeply invested in the question of what our children should learn, and how it should be taught.
I am afraid that this moment is turning children into data when we most need them to be reminded of their agency. They need to be creative, critical thinkers. They need to understand how to use information and skills to solve complex problems. They need to appreciate the diversity of the world in all of its forms, and how that diversity is a strength. I want my kids to read whole books and argue about them, and maybe be bored sometimes, and to grapple together about big ideas. I want them to create cool things—poems and art and LEGO creations.
Librarian Andrea Baer (2025) describes how “feeling rules” get applied to discussions of AI that exhort librarians (and teachers) to “feel” optimistic about the role of technology in education, and to reject hesitations as “AI anxiety” instead of genuine critiques or questions about the pedagogical implications of AI.
It’s no surprise to me that HMH, the soulless literacy curriculum adopted across NYC as part of New York City Reads, has integrated AI tools into its platform. We can say no to this.
PACES 