Schools Want AI, Teachers Want a Drink (And Maybe Some Goddamn Training)

Jun. 20, 2025

Alright, so the latest dispatch from the digital trenches, the ones they’re digging right through our schools, just landed on my already cluttered consciousness. Some paper, or maybe it’s a website, who the hell knows anymore, called ‘Education Week’ – sounds like a prison sentence, don’t it? – is buzzing about AI in the classroom. Naturally, I had to pour myself a stiff one just to face the damn thing. The world keeps spinning, the headlines keep screaming, and my glass keeps needing a refill. It’s the natural order.

So, get this: sixty percent of teachers are now wrangling these AI beasties into their lessons. Sixty! That’s up from forty percent last year. The ink-stained wretches on the front lines are apparently grabbing the bull by the horns, or the algorithm by the
 well, you get the picture. They’re jumping in. Probably because nobody else is throwing them a life raft. And here’s the kicker, the part that makes you want to laugh until you cry into your whiskey: nearly two years after ChatGPT blew up like a cheap firework, fifty-eight percent of these same teachers are still wandering in the AI desert without a drop of formal training.

Fifty-eight percent. Let that sink in. It’s like handing a loaded gun to a toddler and saying, “Now, be creative!” The teachers are embracing the tech faster than the institutions can sober up and figure out what day it is, let alone provide actual support. It’s the same old story: the grunts do the work, the brass polishes its medals. Another drag from this cigarette, and maybe the smoke will clear up the absurdity. Or maybe not.

This report mentions some outfit, “Whatever It Takes” – WIT, for short. Sounds like my personal motto for dragging my carcass out of bed before noon, or finding a bar that’s still open. They work with “teen entrepreneurs.” Christ. Teenagers and entrepreneurs. Two words that should only appear together in a cautionary tale. These wunderkinds are apparently using AI for business plans and whatnot. Good for them. Let ‘em have their fun before the real world chews them up and spits them out like a stale pretzel.

The point is, the kids waltzing into classrooms today expect their teachers to be fluent in AI, to guide them through the digital maze. But the teachers? They’re mostly figuring it out on their own dime, their own time, probably between grading papers and wondering if they’ll have a job next year if the robots get too smart.

The data, oh, the glorious data, shows teachers are finding ways to use this stuff. Lesson planning, bless their hearts. Crafting quizzes. Differentiating instruction – which, if I remember my brief, painful stint trying to explain how a modem worked to a room full of glazed-over marketing types, means trying to make the same damn point in twelve different ways hoping one of them sticks. Fifty-three percent of educators are apparently chatting with things like ChatGPT weekly. Probably asking it for a good recipe for hemlock after a parent-teacher conference, or how to explain the goddamn offside rule to a class of fifth graders. English and social studies teachers are leading the charge. Makes sense. They’re used to dealing with fiction.

They say teachers understand the “potential.” Sure they do. They also understand the potential of a winning lottery ticket, but that doesn’t mean the school board’s gonna buy ‘em one. They’re using it to “enhance their existing strengths.” Translation: they’re using it to plug the gaping holes left by underfunding, overwork, and a system that treats them like glorified babysitters with advanced degrees.

This WIT group even built their own AI assistant, “WITY.” Sounds like a brand of antacid. “WITY: For when your teen entrepreneur’s business pitch gives you heartburn.” They learned that successful AI integration needs tools and training. No shit, Sherlock. Took a custom AI and a gaggle of teenage moguls to figure that one out? I could’ve told you that for the price of a cheap bourbon, and I wouldn’t have even needed a PowerPoint.

So now WIT is partnering with schools. Good luck to ‘em. They’re trying to develop “effective AI strategies that work in real-world classrooms.” That’s a tall order. The real world in most classrooms I’ve seen is a controlled demolition on a good day.

The stats just keep coming, like bad news or unpaid bills. Only forty-three percent of teachers have had even one AI training session. One! That’s like saying you learned to swim by reading the deep end sign. Why the hell not? Well, nearly half say they’ve got “more pressing responsibilities.” You think? Like, say, actual teaching? Or dealing with kids who haven’t eaten, or whose parents are at each other’s throats? Or maybe they’re just trying to find a quiet corner to have a nervous breakdown in peace. Others ask their district for AI policies and get crickets or a shrug. Sounds about right. Bureaucracy, the art of doing nothing, very slowly.

And here’s a heartbreaker: some teachers are so goddamn frustrated by the lack of support, they’re thinking of quitting. Walking away. Can you blame them? It’s like being asked to build a rocket ship with a toothpick and a prayer, while someone yells at you for not reaching Mars by lunchtime. Another cigarette. This news is making my hangover feel ambitious.

What do these poor souls need? Time. Not five minutes tacked onto a staff meeting. Actual, dedicated hours to poke and prod these AI tools. They need to talk to each other, share what works, what blows up in their faces. You know, collaborate, like human beings do when they’re not being treated like cogs in a broken machine. They need ongoing support, because this AI crap changes faster than a politician’s principles. And clear guidelines, for Christ’s sake. How do you tell if a kid’s using AI to learn, or just to cheat their way to a diploma they can’t even spell?

The teachers themselves, the ones still capable of independent thought, are worried. They wonder if these AI shortcuts will turn kids’ brains into mush. Make ‘em scared of hard work. Some have already seen students getting “overly dependent.” No surprise there. Give someone a magic button, and they’ll forget how to tie their own damn shoes. It’s human nature, or what’s left of it.

The good training programs, the report mumbles, are the ones that actually listen to teachers. Build on what’s happening in the trenches. Let them kick the tires of AI, find its weak spots, figure out how to keep learning rigorous. Some innovative educators are already doing it – asking more questions out loud, designing projects that require actual, honest-to-god thinking, making assessments that can’t be faked by a clever parrot program. These are the unsung heroes, the ones trying to hold the line against the tide of digital bullshit. They deserve a damn medal, or at least a stiff drink on the house.

Then comes the sales pitch for “tools specifically designed for educational use.” Of course. Because the free stuff, the stuff everyone else is using, that’s not good enough for the precious little darlings. These special tools will have “curriculum alignment,” “student safety features,” “assessment capabilities.” Sounds like another way for some sharp operator to make a killing off the school budget. I’ve seen enough “solutions” in my time to know that most of them are just new problems in fancy packaging. Custom AI solutions, they say, are often better. I bet they are. Custom-priced, too.

And here’s a chuckle: let the students help. Yeah, the “teen entrepreneurs” who see AI as their “powerful assistant.” The kids who probably know more about this stuff than half the adults in the room. Let them show the teachers how the gadgets work, while the teachers try to instill some ethics and critical thinking. What could possibly go wrong? It’s like asking the foxes to guard the henhouse, but maybe the hens are so exhausted they just don’t give a damn anymore. Could be the most honest collaboration in the whole damn system.

This report actually has the gall to say these teen entrepreneurs don’t see AI as “threatening or mysterious.” Of course they don’t. They haven’t lived long enough to be properly threatened or mystified by anything beyond a bad Wi-Fi signal. Their teachers, however, who’ve seen a few decades of bright ideas come and go, should feel the same way? Easy for some suit to say from his air-conditioned office.

The roadmap for success, according to these sages? Invest in training time. Give ‘em the right tools. Clear policies. Ongoing support. Groundbreaking stuff. It’s like saying to win a war, you need soldiers, bullets, a plan, and maybe some food. The schools that are supposedly “winning” with AI aren’t just buying software; they’re giving teachers time to learn, to screw up, to share what works. They’re investing in the humans, for a change.

Because, and this should be carved in stone above every schoolhouse door: teachers can’t master this crap during their lunch break or after a day that’s already sucked the life out of them. They need protected time, real training, and permission to try things without getting crucified if it doesn’t work perfectly the first time.

It’s a mess, isn’t it? Another grand plan hatched by people who wouldn’t last five minutes in a real classroom. The teachers, as usual, are left to sort it out, armed with good intentions and, if they’re lucky, a search engine that works. Me? I’m just a guy with a keyboard, a bottle, and a lifetime’s supply of cynicism. But even I can see that if you want to teach the kids about the future, you damn well better take care of the people doing the teaching.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, this bottle isn’t going to empty itself, and the words are starting to blur. Which, come to think of it, is probably how most education policy gets written.

Keep fighting the good fight, or just find a good bartender. Chinaski. Over and out.


Source: AI In Education: Why Teachers Need Tools, Time And Training

Tags: ai chatbots futureofwork ethics disruption