Like so many educators, I was balancing more than a typical routine. I was teaching full-time in a Title I high school while writing, speaking, advocating, mentoring and trying to create learning experiences that honored students who often navigate systems not designed with them in mind. I was often somewhere between grading essays, responding to emails, and figuring out why half the class couldn’t log into Microsoft Teams because the Wi-Fi was acting up again. I wasn’t looking for a tech revolution; if anything, I needed a lifeline. When I stumbled upon GenerationAI, I saw a path to reclaim some of that lost time.
In 2025, I applied to GenerationAI and was one of the fortunate educators chosen to participate in an AI-driven cohort of educators and communities of practice. During the program, we had to create a problem of practice and identify which AI tools could mitigate, alleviate, and elevate our content and student success. My problem of practice was how to leverage AI tools to advance writing skills among English learners (ELs) in the high school English classroom.
I’ll admit it: At first, I wasn’t fully convinced these tools would actually help me become a better teacher. Research on AI transformation in the classroom promised a total revolution in teaching and learning. However, the verbiage from the opening sessions at Google Headquarters in Chicago swung between salvation and complete catastrophe for me. Meanwhile, I thought, I am just trying to get my students through another Tuesday navigating Padlet and NoRedInk without disruption.
Still, I stayed curious and genuinely wanted to lean in to the opportunity. What did I have to lose? Experts leading the program kept reassuring me that the right exposure to AI could make marginalized communities more competitive against their privileged counterparts, and that was enough to draw me in.
With each session, my imagination grew about what AI could become, not only in my classroom, but across the landscape of education as we know it. Not only did we receive helpful AI resources and tools, but the program also provided opportunities for us to share what worked in the classroom and what needed to be revamped to support stronger student outcomes.
I often felt like I was running alongside a moving vehicle that would not stop for me. There was so much to learn, so many platforms to explore, and so many possibilities. There was also so little time.
Yet, somewhere between the overwhelm and the inspiration I gained from fellow educators in my cohort, something shifted within me.
I stopped believing I needed to master AI before I could use it well.
I stopped believing I needed to master AI before I could use it well. Instead, I started treating it like a thought partner. Not a replacement, not a shortcut, but a collaborator; something I so desperately needed with full rosters of ELs, IEPs, and 504s to manage.
Once the program ended, I began brainstorming lesson ideas when my own creativity felt out of reach. I was surprised by how AI helped elevate my big ideas. I gathered discussion questions before testing them in class. I redesigned assignments to make them more culturally responsive and more accessible for multilingual learners. When difficult conversations around immigration, ICE and identity became impossible to ignore, AI helped me think through instructional pathways that were academically rigorous while remaining deeply connected to my desire to create a safe space of belonging.
It helped me see possibilities I hadn’t considered before. AI didn’t diminish my role; it amplified it.
From Gatekeeper to Collaborator
One of the most transformative tools I encountered from the program was Class Companion. For my English learners, immediate writing feedback became a game changer. Instead of waiting several days for my comments on an essay, students could revise while their thinking was still fresh. They received another opportunity to practice, rethink, and improve without waiting for me to finish grading another stack of digital papers.
That mattered.
Not because technology became the teacher, but because it gave students another chance to become stronger writers and gave me space to provide the meaningful instruction they deserved. I no longer felt pressured to offer rushed or watered-down feedback simply because there were not enough hours in the day.
ChatGPT also proved useful for brainstorming and generating ideas for essay topics, project concepts, and research question frameworks for the students. It relieved a lot of unnecessary pressure for both of us, and we were productive and grateful.
The students were also pleasantly surprised that I welcomed AI the way I did. As educators, we often carry the impossible expectation that we have to know everything before we try it. But to be honest, classrooms have never worked that way, and they shouldn’t.
Teaching has always been an act of experimentation. Robert Marzano once said, “In effect, a good part of effective teaching is an art.” It’s an art form. We adjust. We pivot. We learn in real time alongside our students.
AI became another place for that real-time experimentation. I had to be willing to crash and burn in front of them while experimenting with Canva AI-generated images that didn’t work at all because of slow internet and our inability to guide the AI tool properly.
Yet, these experiments were vital in schools like mine. Schools where innovation isn’t limited by imagination, but by fair access. Schools where broken laptops join a list of devices needing repair. Schools where slow internet can derail an entire lesson, and I have receipts for this. Schools where conversations about equity cannot stop at access to premium platforms because some students are still waiting for access to functioning devices and suitable chargers.
Those realities never disappeared simply because AI entered the conversation. On the contrary, they became even more visible.
The Equity Gap in the Age of AI
I didn’t join GenerationAI to become an artificial intelligence expert. I joined because I was trying to persevere and find as many resources as possible to make magic in an environment challenged by barriers to access, resources, and injustice outside the classroom.
Looking back, I honestly wish I could have absorbed more from my GenerationAI cohort. The learning was incredibly rich, but almost too rich, given the barriers my students and I faced every day around time and access to functioning technology.
Still, I don’t see that as a failure. I didn’t leave as an AI expert. I left as a teacher who wasn’t afraid to experiment. That may be the most important lesson of all.
We don’t need educators who know every tool. We need educators who are willing to ask better questions, willing to take instructional risks, and willing to discover how technology can support, rather than replace, authentic teaching and sincere moments of connection.
AI never became the star of my classroom. My students remained at the center as mis estrellas – my stars.
AI never became the star of my classroom. My students remained at the center as mis estrellas – my stars.
Sometimes innovation isn’t about having all the answers. Sometimes it’s about having the courage to try something new. AI didn’t replace the heart of my teaching; it gave me more time to use it in the way I felt would resonate with both me and my students.