A Writing Journey

Tonight I was at a birthday party. Downstairs, sounds of children laughing, screaming and unbridled fun were contained by the “freedom door.”

That’s what my friend E affectionately called the door that separated the kitchen, where all of the adults had gathered, and the stairs that led to the basement where the birthday boy was hosting his friends.The freedom door was closed. 

The adults were drinking wine and talking. C, one of the moms, described her horror at seeing Melania Trump and a humanoid-robot powered by AI at a recent press conference touting the benefits of future education.

As one of the three educators around the kitchen island, I pointed out the irony in the robot’s name: “Plato.” 

There was a little laughter — nervous laughter because this wasn’t an SNL sketch. This was real. Robots could very well march across the border, break down the freedom door, and barge into the innocent lives of the children downstairs. 

Another mom was wide-eyed as C described Melania’s pitch and how Plato would fundamentally replace teachers and change the way kids learn. She chimed in that schools are already changing for the worse.  Her nine-year-old daughter begged to have a cell phone to view entertaining videos girls at school were making for the “in” crowd.

“I know, she was manipulating me. But I don’t want her to feel left out.” 

C nodded. “If parents work together to get phones out of their kids hands in school, not having one becomes the rule. No peer pressure to get one,” she commented.

As the conversation drifted into AI romances or AI mining personal data, I listened and sighed.

As an educator, I’ve witnessed other teachers’ growing dependancy on AI to lesson-plan, generate report cards and provide feedback to students. I have felt a responsibility to block out AI from my teaching completely and as I listened to the conversation around me,  I wanted to bury my head in the sand.

But I knew I couldn’t do that for long. While I am not a parent, I advocate for children and have a responsibility to be informed and remain vigilant.

Eventually, the children’s laughter and screams burst through the freedom door. They rushed towards pizza and birthday cupcakes. The joy from their laughter, coupled with my despair, left me burdened with the weight of an uncertain future.