
Teachers Are Not OK
AI, ChatGPT, and LLMs "have absolutely blown up what I try to accomplish with my teaching."
Teachers Are Not OK
· Jun 2, 2025 at 10:08 AM
AI, ChatGPT, and LLMs "have absolutely blown up what I try to accomplish with my teaching."

Last month, I wrote an article about how schools were not prepared for ChatGPT and other generative AI tools, based on thousands of pages of public records I obtained from when ChatGPT was first released. As part of that article, I asked teachers to tell me how AI has changed how they teach.
The response from teachers and university professors was overwhelming. In my entire career, I’ve rarely gotten so many email responses to a single article, and I have never gotten so many thoughtful and comprehensive responses.
One thing is clear: teachers are not OK.
They describe trying to grade “hybrid essays half written by students and half written by robots,” trying to teach Spanish to kids who don’t know the meaning of the words they’re trying to teach them in English, and students who use AI in the middle of conversation. They describe spending hours grading papers that took their students seconds to generate: “I've been thinking more and more about how much time I am almost certainly spending grading and writing feedback for papers that were not even written by the student,” one teacher told me. “That sure feels like bullshyt.”

Have you lost your job to an AI? Has AI radically changed how you work (whether you're a teacher or not)? I would love to hear from you. Using a non-work device, you can message me securely on Signal at jason.404. Otherwise, send me an email at jason@404media.co.
Below, I have compiled some of the responses I got. Some of the teachers were comfortable with their responses being used on the record along with their names. Others asked that I keep them anonymous because their school or school district forbids them from speaking to the press. The responses have been edited by 404 Media for length and clarity, but they are still really long. These are teachers, after all.
Robert W. Gehl, Ontario Research Chair of Digital Governance for Social Justice at York University in Toronto
Simply put, AI tools are ubiquitous. I am on academic honesty committees and the number of cases where students have admitted to using these tools to cheat on their work has exploded.
I think generative AI is incredibly destructive to our teaching of university students. We ask them to read, reflect upon, write about, and discuss ideas. That's all in service of our goal to help train them to be critical citizens. GenAI can simulate all of the steps: it can summarize readings, pull out key concepts, draft text, and even generate ideas for discussion. But that would be like going to the gym and asking a robot to lift weights for you.
"Honestly, if we ejected all the genAI tools into the sun, I would be quite pleased."
We need to rethink higher ed, grading, the whole thing. I think part of the problem is that we've been inconsistent in rules about genAI use. Some profs ban it altogether, while others attempt to carve out acceptable uses. The problem is the line between acceptable and unacceptable use. For example, some profs say students can use genAI for "idea generation" but then prohibit using it for writing text. Where's the line between those? In addition, universities are contracting with companies like Microsoft, Adobe, and Google for digital services, and those companies are constantly pushing their AI tools. So a student might hear "don't use generative AI" from a prof but then log on to the university's Microsoft suite, which then suggests using Copilot to sum up readings or help draft writing. It's inconsistent and confusing.
I've been working on ways to increase the amount of in-class discussion we do in classes. But that's tricky because it's hard to grade in-class discussions—it's much easier to manage digital files. Another option would be to do hand-written in-class essays, but I have a hard time asking that of students. I hardly write by hand anymore, so why would I demand they do so?
I am sick to my stomach as I write this because I've spent 20 years developing a pedagogy that's about wrestling with big ideas through writing and discussion, and that whole project has been evaporated by for-profit corporations who built their systems on stolen work. It's demoralizing.
It has made my job much, much harder. I do not allow genAI in my classes. However, because genAI is so good at producing plausible-sounding text, that ban puts me in a really awkward spot. If I want to enforce my ban, I would have to do hours of detective work (since there are no reliable ways to detect genAI use), call students into my office to confront them, fill out paperwork, and attend many disciplinary hearings. All of that work is done to ferret out cheating students, so we have less time to spend helping honest ones who are there to learn and grow. And I would only be able to find a small percentage of the cases, anyway.
Honestly, if we ejected all the genAI tools into the sun, I would be quite pleased.
Kaci Juge, high school English teacher
I personally haven't incorporated AI into my teaching yet. It has, however, added some stress to my workload as an English teacher. How do I remain ethical in creating policies? How do I begin to teach students how to use AI ethically? How do I even use it myself ethically considering the consequences of the energy it apparently takes? I understand that I absolutely have to come to terms with using it in order to remain sane in my profession at this point.
Ben Prytherch, Statistics professor
LLM use is rampant, but I don't think it's ubiquitous. While I can never know with certainty if someone used AI, it's pretty easy to tell when they didn't, unless they're devious enough to intentionally add in grammatical and spelling errors or awkward phrasings. There are plenty of students who don't use it, and plenty who do.
LLMs have changed how I give assignments, but I haven't adapted as quickly as I'd like and I know some students are able to cheat. The most obvious change is that I've moved to in-class writing for assignments that are strictly writing-based. Now the essays are written in-class, and treated like mid-term exams. My quizzes are also in-class. This requires more grading work, but I'm glad I did it, and a bit embarrassed that it took ChatGPT to force me into what I now consider a positive change. Reasons I consider it positive:
- I am much more motivated to write detailed personal feedback for students when I know with certainty that I'm responding to something they wrote themselves.
- It turns out most of them can write after all. For all the talk about how kids can't write anymore, I don't see it. This is totally subjective on my part, of course. But I've been pleasantly surprised with the quality of what they write in-class.
Switching to in-class writing has got me contemplating giving oral examinations, something I've never done. It would be a big step, but likely a positive and humanizing one.
There's also the problem of academic integrity and fairness. I don't want students who don't use LLMs to be placed at a disadvantage. And I don't want to give good grades to students who are doing effectively nothing. LLM use is difficult to police.
Lastly, I have no patience for the whole "AI is the future so you must incorporate it into your classroom" push, even when it's not coming from self-interested people in tech. No one knows what "the future" holds, and even if it were a good idea to teach students how to incorporate AI into this-or-that, by what measure are us teachers qualified?
Kate Conroy
I teach 12th grade English, AP Language & Composition, and Journalism in a public high school in West Philadelphia. I was appalled at the beginning of this school year to find out that I had to complete an online training that encouraged the use of AI for teachers and students. I know of teachers at my school who use AI to write their lesson plans and give feedback on student work. I also know many teachers who either cannot recognize when a student has used AI to write an essay or don’t care enough to argue with the kids who do it. Around this time last year I began editing all my essay rubrics to include a line that says all essays must show evidence of drafting and editing in the Google Doc’s history, and any essays that appear all at once in the history will not be graded.
I refuse to use AI on principle except for one time last year when I wanted to test it, to see what it could and could not do so that I could structure my prompts to thwart it. I learned that at least as of this time last year, on questions of literary analysis, ChatGPT will make up quotes that sound like they go with the themes of the books, and it can’t get page numbers correct. Luckily I have taught the same books for many years in a row and can instantly identify an incorrect quote and an incorrect page number. There’s something a little bit satisfying about handing a student back their essay and saying, “I can’t find this quote in the book, can you find it for me?” Meanwhile I know perfectly well they cannot.
I teach 18 year olds who range in reading levels from preschool to college, but the majority of them are in the lower half that range. I am devastated by what AI and social media have done to them. My kids don’t think anymore. They don’t have interests. Literally, when I ask them what they’re interested in, so many of them can’t name anything for me. Even my smartest kids insist that ChatGPT is good “when used correctly.” I ask them, “How does one use it correctly then?” They can’t answer the question. They don’t have original thoughts. They just parrot back what they’ve heard in TikToks. They try to show me “information” ChatGPT gave them. I ask them, “How do you know this is true?” They move their phone closer to me for emphasis, exclaiming, “Look, it says it right here!” They cannot understand what I am asking them. It breaks my heart for them and honestly it makes it hard to continue teaching. If I were to quit, it would be because of how technology has stunted kids and how hard it’s become to reach them because of that.
I am only 30 years old. I have a long road ahead of me to retirement. But it is so hard to ask kids to learn, read, and write, when so many adults are no longer doing the work it takes to ensure they are really learning, reading, and writing. And I get it. That work has suddenly become so challenging. It’s really not fair to us. But if we’re not willing to do it, we shouldn’t be in the classroom.