What Do They Remember?
Decades later, and they still remember. How I made them feel matters more than what I taught. Why can't we have both?
Students from my early days of teaching are in their forties now. I’ve talked with many of them over the years, and not a single one ever brought up some skill I taught them or some test they nailed because of my brilliance. What they did bring up is how they felt in my class. They all felt important. Truly important. Valued. Heard. A part of something special.
Not long ago, one of those former students commented on Facebook that they’d just listened to an Enya song and were immediately transported back to my classroom, writing in their journal. Others commented. Sweet memories they still carry from that time. Years later, and a song is enough to bring the whole room back.
It’s not the lesson plans or the formative checks or the differentiated handouts, though those certainly matter. It’s the moments. The laughter. The insight. The young man in the back row who went quiet because he was confused and I can be there. The conversation heading somewhere powerful and we have the time to let it roll. The moments I can sit with a student who’s struggling and actually help and build. The room’s rhythm, built between us in those important moments of trust, humor, and human connection.
What if AI in the classroom lets me dig deep into lesson design work in a matter of minutes so I can invest my energy and time on what only I can do?
I design an AI agent or app that runs a repeatable process for each student, built from what I know about their needs and what the curriculum requires. It delivers real time data to the student and me, so I’m not spending my evenings grading or carrying the guilt if I can’t. Iteration becomes a natural part of the learning process. We evaluate in cycles instead of at the end. Students improve in real time instead of waiting for a final score. Challenge becomes meaningful.
I’ve lived enough years to know what follows. I saw it in action last semester. They don’t need shortcuts. They’re confident. They’re proud. They want to show what they’ve learned. Systems that take minutes to build, grounded in real data, experience, and vision. AI keeps it running while I’m free to notice, to listen, to encourage. Could I integrate intentional rigor this way without making the whole room globally difficult for the sake of it? Each student moves through at their own speed and attacks challenging content with confidence.
This is where I choose to put my hope and energy.
Stay curious. Stay ethical. Stay you.