Navigating the AI Revolution in Education: A Professor’s Perspective
At a recent workshop at Babson College, I overheard a discussion about AI therapists, sparking a debate about AI’s role in addressing human problems. This conversation encapsulated our collective grappling with AI’s rapid integration into roles we once considered uniquely human. This shift extends beyond therapy; it challenges us to adapt to AI in areas that depend on trust, creativity, and emotional connection. As a writing studies educator, I see these questions unfolding in my own field. When ChatGPT launched on November 30, 2022, it hit higher education like a tidal wave, prompting widespread concern about academic integrity. Professors worldwide scrambled to understand the implications for their classrooms. Reflecting on this period, I’ve recognized a pattern mirroring the five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Along the way, I’ve adopted strategies that are helping us move forward.

Stage 1: Denial
In the early days, denial was prevalent. Colleagues dismissed ChatGPT as an advanced autocomplete feature, convinced it couldn’t replicate human creativity or critical thought. Many dismissed it, believing it wouldn’t affect their students or assignments. Then, the essays began to arrive, exhibiting impeccable grammar, organized ideas, and a polished voice. This led to cracks in the denial. Despite skepticism, a student demonstrated how ChatGPT flawlessly answered a complex essay prompt. It felt like a magic trick, but the secret had been revealed.
Stage 2: Anger
Once the reality of AI dawned, anger followed. Faculty meetings were filled with frustration over students utilizing AI to bypass the writing process. There was also frustration towards the tech industry for releasing such tools without consulting educators or implementing safeguards. Assignments began to falter under ChatGPT’s capabilities, and the anger intensified. This frustration prompted us to ask the crucial question: How can we design assignments that go beyond what ChatGPT can easily replicate?
Stage 3: Bargaining
In the bargaining stage, we sought ways to control or coexist with this new technology. Departments debated policies: Should we ban ChatGPT? Should we create strict rules? Faculty brainstormed ways of “AI-proofing” assignments. Bargaining also involved figuring out how to use AI constructively. Could it be a brainstorming partner? A research assistant? Some proposed handwritten essays or oral exams. Ultimately, this stage highlighted that the solution wasn’t about banning AI but engaging with it meaningfully.
Stage 4: Depression
This was the most challenging stage. The realization that ChatGPT and similar tools were here to stay felt overwhelming. How do you teach writing when students can outsource their first drafts? This stage wasn’t just about the impact on educators; it was about its impact on student learning. If students were handing over the writing process, what were they learning? Would students lose the ability to grapple with language and meaning, and how would we ensure that linguistic diversity wasn’t flattened by AI? The fear was that the ease of relying on AI was pushing us toward a one-size-fits-all way of thinking, where originality was a casualty of efficiency.
Stage 5: Acceptance
Over two years later, many are adapting. I’ve used ChatGPT to model critical thinking with students, prompting the AI to draft an essay and then critiquing its outputs. This approach initiated rich conversations about bias, creativity and what makes writing “human.” A recent assignment asked students to analyze art co-created with AI. Following their analysis, they read Ted Chiang’s “Why A.I. Isn’t Going to Make Art,” and wrote arguments on AI’s potential as an art creator. Discussions were lively, insightful, and engaged. In a follow-up assignment, when students remixed their writing projects with and without AI, even the fully copied AI outputs enriched learning. Acceptance means asking better questions: How do we teach writing as a process of thinking, and how do we prepare students for a world where AI is a tool, not a threat?
Conclusion
While acknowledging calls for resistance, I have found myself moving in a different direction. After two years of wrestling with the implications of AI in my teaching, I embrace critical engagement, inviting students to think deeply about writing and creating alongside these tools. Resistance reminds us what’s worth fighting for; acceptance reminds us that the fight can mean saying yes thoughtfully, critically, and creatively. In this way, resistance and acceptance are part of the same ongoing conversation about teaching, learning, and creating in a world forever changed by AI.