In a quiet classroom, the scent of beeswax crayons lingers as children mold shapes from their imagination, their hands tracing the contours of a world yet to be fully formed. Across the globe, a university lecture hall hums with the glow of screens, where algorithms sift through data faster than any human mind could dream. Between these two scenes lies a question that stirs me: How do we teach in a world where artificial intelligence (AI) is reshaping the - knowing?
I turn to the wisdom of the past and the voices of the present to explore what it means to educate in harmony with both the human spirit and the tools we’ve created. Inspired by the #SatrangiGurukul, which cherishes the unfolding of the individual through art, rhythm, and reverence for nature, I ask: Can AI serve as a partner in this sacred task, or does it risk dimming the light of human creativity?
The rise of AI is no longer a whisper on the horizon; it is a tsunami reshaping our lives. Over 60% of educational institutions worldwide now integrate AI tools, from adaptive learning platforms to automated grading systems.
AI excels at pattern recognition and data processing, but it lacks the capacity for wonder, for the ‘why’ that drives human inquiry.
Education is not merely the transfer of facts but the awakening of curiosity and moral imagination.
The #SatrangiGurukul approach offers a clue: it delays the use of technology in early years, favoring storytelling, movement, and hands-on creation. Children aged 6–10 who engaged in screen-free, tactile learning show higher retention and understanding of complex concepts compared to their tech-immersed peers.
Truth is subjectivity. Knowledge is not just what AI delivers, it is what we wrestle with, question, and make our own.
Teaching with AI should not mean outsourcing thinking. It’s about guiding students to discern what’s meaningful amid the flood of information.
Imagine a classroom of tomorrow where the teacher, rather than the screen, remains the heart of learning. Technology amplifies human connection rather than replacing it. The need of imagination, a sense of truth, and a feeling of responsibility, these are the three forces which are the very nerve of education. AI, must be used to serve these forces, not supplant them.
Over-dependence on AI risks “deskilling” both students and teachers, erode critical thinking and emotional resilience. Education is a promise to the future, not a machine to be optimized. If AI becomes the teacher, who will model vulnerability, courage, or the beauty of a mistake?
Let us teach students not just to use AI, but to challenge, to ask what it cannot know: the smell of rain, the weight of grief, the thrill of singing a song.
In a classroom of tomorrow, teaching, becomes an act of weaving, threading the gifts of technology through human experience.
-Chetan
