Nancy Flanagan, retired award-winning teacher, considers the implications of the AFT teaming upm with AI companies. Reposted with permission.
Back in the day, I used to go to ed-tech conferences, especially the Michigan Association for Computers Users in Learning (MACUL) gathering. Like everyone else, I was there to find that elusive app or device that would make my work easier.
For maybe a decade, MACUL was the hot ticket, worth burning a personal day, sitting in ballrooms looking at guys in logoed polo shirts and khakis, narrating fast-paced product-focused PowerPoints with amusing memes sprinkled throughout. The first question you got, wandering through the massive exhibits hall was “Are you in charge of tech purchases for your school?”
Nope, I wasn’t.
What I was looking for was new ways of thinking about education, specifically music education. It seemed to me that music, as a human endeavor, was way more than what I was teaching: how to play an instrument and replicate pre-written pieces, as accurately as possible. These were skills that were fairly easy to standardize and grade, but 180 degrees away from creativity and improvisation, the capacity to play with musical ideas, and evaluate your own results. Not to mention things like joy and fun.
I was working in a system that privileged the standard school band, including competitions evaluating fidelity to everything from instrumentation to tempo markings. The party line on music education is that it’s creative, but secondary music education often leaves little room for students’ imagination or original work. The teamwork and drive for excellence are valuable, but usually end when a student graduates.
Don’t get me wrong—learning to play a musical instrument and read music are useful, foundational skills in ways that many folks don’t see or appreciate. If I ran the world, all kids would learn to play an instrument, to understand and create their own music, and play daily with others.
But how could I encourage my students to try out their own musical ideas? To have fun, even jam, without a conductor and sheet music and—God forbid—weekly playing tests, speaking of pre-set system reqs… This seemed to be something that technology might do.
Now, 20 years later, there are plenty of creative music apps to carry around on your phone or tablet. But what the techies were selling, back then, fell into three buckets:
The first was programs to make school administration easier— attendance, budgets, scheduling,etc. The second group were things to make teachers’ non-instructional duties easier—grading, standards, lesson planning, and so on. The third cluster was programs for students, most of which were usable by classes, in computer labs and directed by teachers.
There was lots of new! exciting! software, but nobody seemed to be interested in developing programs that let students experiment with the tools of music. At least, not for schools, where performing concerts and musical events for parents and the community were the ultimate curricular goals.
It was a system I didn’t create, and innovative technologies were no help in budging it. Even in ways that I knew would be good for kids, building their confidence and exploring their individual musicianship.
I thought about that today when I read this article in WIRED: Microsoft, OpenAI, and a US Teachers’ Union Are Hatching a Plan to ‘Bring AI Into the Classroom.’ The National Academy for AI Instruction will make artificial intelligence training accessible to educators across the country, a first-of-its-kind $23 million initiative funded by the tech companies to bring free training to teachers.
First thought: Do teachers WANT to bring AI into their classrooms? If so, for what purposes?
Second thought: Why is the AFT jumping on this bandwagon? To “get ahead” of some imaginary curve? To get “free” (and none of this is truly free) stuff?
Third thought: Since AI is essentially composed of stolen content, what does this do for teachers who still believe in nurturing students’ imagination? Somebody created all the literature, art and other media that goes into the giant maw of AI, so there are also ethical questions.
Final thought: Why are we ‘training’ educators to do what OpenAI thinks they should be doing? Did we ask teachers first—what would you like to know about AI? How do you think it could be useful in your classroom?
Once again, we’re forcing teachers into systems they did not create. And that’s never a good idea.