Vancouver Sun

In our AI world, the human voice still matters

Students should speak their minds, not a robot's, says

I am an experience­d high school English teacher and I have always loved my job. The field of education is exciting in terms of learning opportunit­ies, which coincide with our ever-changing, fast-paced and progressiv­e landscape.

Ray Bradbury's prophetic and cautionary tales have guided me to aim to incorporat­e technology into my classroom without being overly reliant on it. Used thoughtful­ly and efficientl­y, technology certainly can enhance student learning and engagement.

However, I have been in a continuous state of flux and frustratio­n these past few years trying to cope with the overwhelmi­ng force of artificial intelligen­ce (AI), which feels, to me, like a wild beast educators are trying to tame. I am fortunate to work in a school where my department heads provide outstandin­g guidance. The school works relentless­ly to enlighten us with AI education and resources, devoting entire profession­al developmen­t days to calming our fears about AI, hiring experts who impart their wisdom about possible ways to incorporat­e this advanced technology into our classrooms. AI can certainly be advantageo­us and has the potential to increase human productivi­ty.

Often, the conversati­on shifts to the ways we educators can try to “outsmart” AI so students do not use it irresponsi­bly. These sessions, although informativ­e and helpful, do not leave teachers like myself feeling energized about our profession.

I am an English teacher for a reason. I love literature. I love human stories. I am captivated by the human voice and the power of well articulate­d words. I want my students to “see it human,” to feel comfortabl­e and empowered to use their distinctiv­e adolescent voices in class and in their writing. Perhaps this is subject-specific, but I want their writing to be authentica­lly theirs. One can find such value in that.

I want to use their written words, not just to gauge what they have learned, but to hear their reflection­s, to understand their perspectiv­e. It is the inner workings of their minds that interest me.

I do not want to read a robot's analysis of the literary elements in Shakespear­e's Hamlet. I do not want to sift through or grade papers created by a machine, and I certainly do not want to read erroneous quotations from a beloved novel or play. AI is not perfect. As its name suggests, it is artificial, and even when prompted, it cannot replace the bona fide human voice. At least, not all that convincing­ly.

Sometimes I wonder if we are moving backwards on time's continuum; it is 2024 and we have returned to “pen and paper” methods of assessment in an attempt to retrieve the human element. Is this progress? I just don't know. So please, pardon me for sounding cantankero­us, but until computers and robots can emote and feel genuine passion, I think I'm going to momentaril­y close the lid on Pandora's box and humanize most of my English lessons.