Why I Might Be Changing My Mind About AI in Elementary and Middle School

A year ago, if you had told me I’d be writing a blog post in defense of AI in elementary schools, I wouldn’t have believed you.

I have seen AI as something to shield children from. I have seen it as a tool too powerful, too adult, too artificial for the joyful, curious, deeply human side of childhood. I have been worried about screen time, the erosion of imagination, and the commodification of learning. Like many educators, I believe childhood should be protected from, not reshaped by, technology.

But something is changing, not because AI got “better,” but because it is forcing me to ask a bigger question: If this type of access to information is everywhere now… what is school for?

From Resistance to Redesign

AI has made it possible to answer questions in seconds, summarize texts instantly, and even generate essays. I admit this still gives me moments of panic.

At the same time, I recognize that AI presents an opportunity many educators have long anticipated: it offers a catalyst to change the purpose of school. Theoretically, we no longer need to spend as much time drilling facts or delivering content. Instead, teachers can focus on the fundamentals of reading and basic math while also helping children do what only humans can do: think critically about the world around them, solve problems that affect others, collaborate, and build relationships.

That’s not lowering the bar. That’s raising it.

John Dewey called education “the great equalizer” because schools provided equal access to the content children needed to succeed. But in today’s world, that mission alone isn’t enough.

Equal access to content doesn’t ensure meaningful learning. Now, public schools must also become “the great connector,” curating the massive amount of content in order to link students to big ideas, diverse cultures, their own communities, and the tools they’ll need to shape the future.

What if school wasn’t just about knowing things, but about creating meaning and contributing meaningfully to the community?

In this model, the teacher leans more into the role of learning architect who centers their work around the questions of humanity. They would guide inquiry, mentor reflection, and help students find and use tools (including AI) to solve real problems and make meaning out of the vast resources at their fingertips.

We’re starting to ask bold questions as we navigate this new territory:

• What if subjects were framed around human capacities like curiosity, connection, and expression, rather than traditional content silos?
  
• What if school wasn’t just about knowing things, but about creating meaning and contributing meaningfully to the community?

In Lake Bluff, we are beginning to live this through our Portrait of a Learner work, supported by new approaches to courses, such as a combined science and social studies block we call “Enrichment” for all K-5 students, and in new middle school courses, such as applied mathematics and communication. The results we are seeing aren’t theoretical; it has been transformational.

We are seeing increased student engagement with the content, deeper thinking, and greater curiosity as we center learning in these courses on real-world problems, relationships, and creativity. Our students are gaining more than academic skills. They are also displaying:

• Confidence in their voice
• Empathy for others
• Agency to make a difference
• Belonging in a community
• Curiosity that lasts a lifetime

In one word: Humanity.

I am not changing my mind about AI because I fell in love with the technology. I am changing my mind about this shift to AI because I remembered what school is really for.

It’s not about controlling what kids can access.

It’s about expanding what they can do with their big, beautiful brains and who they can become in the process of learning.

A Challenge for Fellow Educators

If you’ve been unsure where AI fits into your schools, you’re not alone. I am starting and plan to continue to approach this shift with caution. But I believe this moment isn’t asking us to protect the past, it’s inviting us to build what comes next.

So here’s my challenge:

What if we stopped optimizing old models and started creating the future our students truly need?

Let’s not fear the change. Let’s lead it.