AI and Our Children: What Are They Learning?

Everyone is talking about AI. It’s in the news, in our schools, and probably in a conversation you’ve had this week. We’re all trying to keep up, understand what it can do, and make guesses about where this is headed.

We all have predictions, but I don’t think any of us knows yet what this will mean for our children.

I’ve been following how schools are responding. How are teachers using AI? How are students using it? What does it mean for writing, research, and learning? Those are questions we need to keep asking.

But this year, another question has been on my mind:

What does it mean for a child to grow up interacting with AI?

One of the posts I read recently described a 15-year-old who said she used ChatGPT to text her friends because she thought it did a better job than she could. That had us thinking.

Writing a text to a friend can be awkward. You might say the wrong thing. You might have to apologize or explain what you meant. But finding your own words, and seeing what happens when you use them, is part of learning how to be a friend and building confidence.

A child’s brain is still developing, and relationships are part of how they learn to navigate the world. In a conversation with another person, a child has to notice more than the words being said. Is my friend upset? Did that joke land badly? What do I want to say, and how might it sound to them? The other person has feelings and needs of their own. They may disagree, need space, or surprise us.

Children learn through those moments. They practice reading a situation, managing their feelings, choosing their words, and trying again when they get it wrong. An adult can help them through it, but we can’t do all of that growing for them.

AI can sound patient and understanding. It can offer a response in seconds, and that may feel especially appealing to a child who is embarrassed, lonely, or unsure of what to say. I can understand the appeal! Thanks, ChatGPT, for agreeing with me, ha! What I wonder is whether turning to AI again and again could mean fewer chances to practice the harder parts of being with people. Could a child start trusting AI’s words more than their own? Could something that feels like connection begin to take the place of reaching out to a friend, parent, or teacher?

We don’t have all the answers. But I think we need to pay attention to more than homework and screen time.

The question comes up in schoolwork, too. A child might ask AI for the first sentence before discovering what they want to say. They might get a solution before trying a different approach or asking a classmate what they think. If a tool steps in each time the work gets difficult, when do they get to experience figuring something out for themselves?

At CASCO, we see how much children learn through being together. They make plans and change them when someone else has an idea. They repair friendships. They care for younger children. They build, create, spend time outside, and solve problems that don’t come with an instant answer. An adult who knows them can notice when they need support and when they’re ready to work something out for themselves.

That work can be messy! It is also such a big part of growing up.

I’m curious about what AI can make possible for learning. I use it myself, and I want children to understand it as they grow. I also want us to slow down and ask what they need to learn and experience for themselves before a tool steps in to help. When is it opening up a question? When is it taking away the chance to wrestle with one?

These are questions for me as a parent and educator, too. I’m figuring this out right alongside everyone else.

AI will keep changing. Our children will keep growing. As we decide when and how to use these tools, I hope we keep making plenty of room for them to wonder, create, disagree, make up, take a risk, and discover that their own voice is worth using.

And if you want my honest opinion, the schools that thrive will be the ones where children learn to care for other people, think for themselves, create something new, and find the courage to try. Children need relationships where they feel known and where they learn to know others. That’s what I want us to keep building at CASCO.