Presenting With AI: What Elementary Students Taught Me About the Future of Work

Last week, I did something that I didn’t expect to enjoy as much as I did.

I co-presented with AI.

More specifically, I co-presented with Gemini, using an iPad and the Gemini app, during an elementary school Careers Day event. Whole classes rotated through, and I had about a half hour with each group. My goal wasn’t to “teach AI,” exactly. It was to help students start developing the kinds of human skills they’ll need in a future where AI tools aren’t a novelty, but a daily co-worker.

And what happened during those sessions shifted something in me. Because once you’ve presented with AI, you can’t unsee what’s coming next.

The Real Focus Wasn’t AI… It Was the Human Skills Behind It

When people hear “AI in schools,” they often assume the conversation is about tools. But the tools are the easy part. The real work is building the human capacity to use those tools well.

This is actually something we’ve been very intentional about in our district. We use the skills outlined in the latest World Economic Forum report as one of our key drivers for identifying what students need to learn to be successful in future careers—especially careers we can’t even define yet. The future of post-secondary education feels uncertain. The way people learn and prepare for careers feels uncertain. But the skills highlighted by the WEF are the kind of skills we can all agree are worth developing in classrooms with confidence.

So instead of focusing on Gemini as the star of the show, I built the session around the skills students will need to become functional, productive humans in an AI-supported world. Skills like communicating with clarity and purpose, using strong vocabulary, thinking critically, planning before acting, and understanding when to delegate tasks to technology versus when to do the thinking themselves.

I also wanted them to see that creativity and reflection are not “extras.” They’re essential. If AI can do the basic tasks faster, then the human advantage becomes our ability to think in diverse, meaningful, and original ways.

Obviously, I didn’t present these as a formal bullet list to third graders. But these themes were embedded in everything we did.

The Setup: Gemini as Our Onboard Ship Computer

To make the experience engaging and memorable, I built a simple narrative. I pre-crafted a prompt for Gemini ahead of time and gave it a role: Gemini was our onboard ship computer, helping us navigate our spacecraft on a journey to a galaxy far away.

Its job was to hold me accountable to clear and concise communication, serve as a “tour guide” to the stars, and act as a co-teacher by helping students understand how to interact with AI effectively.

In other words, Gemini wasn’t just answering questions. It was part of the experience. And it worked.

A Powerful First Step: Asking Permission to Be Imperfect

Before we even started, I asked the students for something important. I asked their permission for this to not go perfectly. I told them we were trying something new, and that experimentation sometimes comes with glitches, awkward moments, and learning as we go.

That wasn’t just a throwaway comment. It was modeling.

Because if we want teachers and students to take risks with new tools, we have to normalize what it looks like to be a beginner again. I quietly hoped the adults in the room heard it too.

Gemini Was Great… Until It Wasn’t (And That Was the Lesson)

Gemini performed really well overall. But there were a few slowdowns and glitches, and the kids noticed immediately. Of course they did. They’re sharp, and they don’t miss a thing.

Instead of trying to cover it up or rush past it, we leaned into it. It became an authentic moment to reinforce something I said throughout the session: we are the captains of our ship. The AI is a tool. The human stays in charge.

If the AI gets confused, stalls, or goes off topic, we don’t panic. We redirect. We adjust. We lead. That moment might have been more valuable than anything Gemini said all day.

The Camera Feature Changed Everything

One of the most powerful features of the Gemini app was the ability to turn on the camera—our ship’s “visual sensors.” This turned into an unexpectedly fun and meaningful part of the experience.

Gemini could see the kids. It could see them dancing, moving, waving, and reacting. And suddenly the room felt more alive. The AI wasn’t just a voice answering questions—it was interacting with what was happening in real time.

We even did a little experiment. I held up an image that the students could see, but Gemini couldn’t. The kids described it, and Gemini had to guess what it was. Then, after it guessed, we turned the camera toward the picture so Gemini could “see” it.

The students loved it. And honestly… I did too.

The Moment That Hit Me: I Was Presenting With AI

When I first played with ChatGPT, I never imagined a moment like this. But now that I’ve experienced it, I can’t unsee it. It was genuinely surreal—in the best way. I wasn’t presenting about AI. I was presenting with AI.

Gemini would take over after I asked a question, and while it spoke, I could walk around the room, observe students, interact, and read the energy of the class. It felt like having a co-presenter—except I had full control. And unlike a human co-presenter, I could cut Gemini off mid-sentence and take the floor back instantly.

That alone was a strange new kind of power. It made me realize that AI isn’t just changing what we teach. It’s changing what it means to present, facilitate, and lead learning.

What the Kids Revealed About AI Use Was Eye-Opening

I asked a simple question during the session: “Who here knows what AI is?” Every single student raised their hand.

Then I asked: “Who here has used AI before?” Every single hand stayed up.

100%.

Now, I’m not claiming this is a perfectly scientific sample. It’s possible the environment or context created some bias. But still, the numbers were much higher than many educators want to admit. Kids are not waiting for adults to catch up. They’re already living in the world we’re still debating.

What surprised me even more was how many students casually mentioned that their parents use AI regularly too. Several kids described hearing about it at home, watching parents use it, or even having parents show them what it can do. And this wasn’t just parents in tech jobs or office environments.

One student told me his dad is a professional welder and uses AI regularly to help him figure out how to do parts of his work.

That moment stuck with me. It was a reminder that AI isn’t quietly “on the way.” It’s already embedded in everyday life, and kids are watching it unfold in real time.

They Also Struggled to Explain What AI Actually Is

Even though every student said they knew what AI was, many struggled to describe it clearly. They mixed it up with robots. They described it like it was a person. They assumed it had feelings, a life, a job, a family, a home somewhere.

So we had to talk about it directly. AI isn’t a person. It doesn’t have emotions. It doesn’t “live” anywhere. It doesn’t care if you’re happy or sad. It is a tool—an advanced computer system designed to help humans do work.

And that distinction matters. Because if students don’t understand what AI is, they’ll either fear it, worship it, or trust it too much. None of those outcomes lead to healthy use.

One of the Funniest Moments Was Also One of the Most Telling

At one point, Gemini started talking a little off-topic. So I cut it off. Kind of abruptly. I redirected it and tightened up the conversation.

And the kids lost it. They laughed—an audible guffaw—because they couldn’t believe I was being strict with the AI.

It was funny, but it was also revealing. It showed how quickly kids assign personality and emotional weight to these tools. It reminded me that one of our jobs is to help students learn that they can be respectful, but also firm.

Because again, the human is the captain.

What I’m Taking With Me

This experience gave me confidence. Not just confidence that AI can work in a live setting, but confidence that it can actually improve engagement, improve learning, and create memorable moments that stick. It was useful. It was intriguing. It was fun. And it had impact.

I walked away thinking: If this can work with elementary students, it can absolutely work with adults. So I’ll be doing more presentations like this—more experiments, more co-teaching with AI, and hopefully more moments where students and teachers walk away not just entertained, but better prepared for the world they’re stepping into.

Because the future isn’t coming. It’s already sitting in the classroom.

And now I just hope my onboard ship computer can keep up.

The Most Important AI Tool We Gave Teachers Was Time

This week, our secondary educators participated in an in-person professional learning day designed to support the curricular work already underway across our district. Each content team was spending the day engaged in essential standards work—clarifying what matters most for student learning.

And that was the key.

When we carved out a 90-minute window for AI professional learning, we were intentional about not treating AI as the “new shiny thing” to bolt onto instruction. Instead, we rooted our work in the same anchor as everything else happening that day: standards, learning targets, and student outcomes. Because this isn’t about tools. It’s about what teachers can build when we give them space to think.

We didn’t have much time — but we made it count

We met once with each content area. Ninety minutes. In person. Fast-paced. We covered the essentials: prompt building, AI literacy, and how large language models work in plain language. We talked about the fact that these tools are prediction machines, not truth machines—and that they will confidently produce false information. We also addressed policy. We wanted clarity around what was allowed, what wasn’t, and what responsible use actually looks like in the classroom.

But the most important part of our sessions wasn’t the information we delivered. It was the time we protected. We carved out space for teachers to imagine the tools in their environment, with their students, teaching the content they love. We gave examples. We modeled. We left them with a recipe. Then we got out of the way.

Teachers didn’t need convincing — they needed permission

Before the day began, we knew one word would show up early and often: cheating. It’s one of the most persistent concerns educators have raised in recent months. And it’s a valid one. Teachers care deeply about authentic student work.

So we addressed it head-on. We talked clearly about the reality: our policy does not support AI being used for cheating, and teachers have every right to define when AI is not appropriate. But we also made something else clear: AI cannot be treated as a tool that is never allowed as a standing rule.

And something fascinating happened. Once teachers had clarity—once they had permission, clear answers, and an opportunity to see the tool used differently—the word cheating disappeared. In every session. The tone shifted from fear to curiosity.

What teachers did with time

Teachers didn’t need more slides (don’t worry — we had that part, too, for the mini-lesson). They needed a window to think, create, and collaborate. And the moment we gave them that window, they did what teachers always do: they started building.

Snapshot #1: “Wait… I could have students critique the AI.”

At one point, a teacher pulled me aside during work time and said:

“Oh my gosh. I could have my students critiquing the work the AI did. I had never thought of that.”

That moment mattered because it represented a shift away from seeing AI as an answer machine—and toward seeing it as a thinking partner. Critiquing AI output isn’t a shortcut. It’s analysis. It’s evaluation. It’s exactly the kind of cognitive work we want students doing more often.

There were other moments like this. Moments when teachers realized they did not have to do the work of translating every document for students if they taught students how to have the tools translate the document for them. They didn’t have to curate every resource into a NotebookLM and then share it with the students if they taught students how to create their own NotebookLM with the resources already provided.

And that has an impact on students as well. The idea that you have to put in the work, learn the tools, and be responsible for creating your own learning opportunities is something that will serve all students well in the future. The maid and butler of their learning environments has been let go. They have to learn how to survive and succeed, to do for themselves, and to make the most out of the tools and opportunities they are given. That will have a positive impact on student learning.

Snapshot #2: A team built a project-planning AI tool in real time

In another room, a group of teachers focused on a familiar student challenge: students often begin project-based learning without a plan, and productivity suffers quickly. So they built one. In our 7 minutes of work time on that tool, they literally had a working prototype. The powers of AI technology were in full display.

Using Gemini, they designed a project-planning “Gem” that could guide students through building a plan, organizing resources, identifying deadlines, and staying focused. In less than 90 minutes, teachers went from “What even is a Gem?” to creating something that could immediately support students.

Snapshot #3: Reflection feedback that changed student productivity

One teacher shared that he had already been using a Gemini Gem for weekly student reflections in his project-based learning environment. The results weren’t small.

He explained that the immediate feedback students received through the tool had shifted their productivity in a meaningful way. Students weren’t waiting days for feedback—they were getting real-time coaching they could apply immediately.

Not only was he able to share a success story, but he also grew a network. I noticed two other teachers meander over during work time to see his reflection gem in action. They weren’t from his school. They didn’t know the work he had been doing. And in about 8 minutes of work time, they made a connection and he felt seen for the idea he put into the room.

Bonus snapshot: A sassy AI conversation with Frida Kahlo

And then there was the moment that reminded us what learning really looks like. A teacher experimenting with Spanish prompts began challenging the AI’s colloquial language, pushing back on phrasing and tone, refining it, and correcting it.

He started imagining students having a conversation in Spanish with AI as Frida Kahlo. At one point, he got a little sassy with the AI, challenging it like a student would. It was funny—and also exactly what we want students to do: engage critically and push beyond surface-level answers. He was also now empowered to improve the AI bot, as he had learned to control it through prompt creation and iterative prompt generation.

The real takeaway: Teachers want to learn

At the end of each session, we were met with gratitude and enthusiasm. Teachers want to make an impact on students every day. They don’t show up to be ineffective. They show up because they care about kids and they care about doing the work well.

What we saw in these sessions was a group of professionals doing what teachers do best: imagining what’s possible. And they did it with a few free tools and a small amount of time.

AI training isn’t the point. Empowerment is.

The biggest success of our professional learning day wasn’t the tools we demonstrated. It was the space we protected. Because the most important AI tool we gave teachers wasn’t Gemini, or prompt structures, or a list of resources. It was time.

Time to think. Time to build. Time to reimagine learning.

And if 90 minutes produced this kind of momentum—imagine what teachers could do with more.

Legacy, Forward: Young Educators Leading at a Critical Turning Point

If you’re a pre-service teacher, a first-year, or somewhere in that foggy stretch between “I love this job” and “I’m not sure this is what I signed up for,” this one’s for you.

Make it stand out

You entered education with a picture in your head.

Maybe it looked like inspiring discussions, meaningful relationships, creative lessons, and the occasional lightbulb moment that reminds you why this work matters.

Maybe it looked like a beautiful opus of student success stories. Maybe your goal was to make a lasting impact on your local community, Possibly you even held a vision of an older version of yourself having served generations of families in the same community. Maybe it also looked like summers off, stable benefits, and a sense that if you worked hard and cared deeply, the system would meet you halfway.

I won’t sugarcoat this: parts of that picture were real. Other parts of it may need to be revised.

And none of those assumptions make you naive. That has been the story in education for a long time, and you were wise to assume some of these truths of the role. The reality is that things are changing, and that makes our profession — well — like any other profession: imperfect and uncertain.

You’re Not Wrong—School Is About to Change (Again)

Let’s start with an anchoring truth of education: learning. Learning is ultimately our business. And if you see learning as the constant, rather than focusing on the construct of what schools should look like, you have your eye on the ball. Some things about learning will never change:

• People learn better in community.

• Relationships matter more than strategies.

• Engagement isn’t fluff—it’s fuel for deepening understanding and thoughtful consideration.

• Relevance is the difference between learner compliance and authentic curiosity.

Those truths are timeless.

But the structures wrapped around them? The way we have traditionally done school? The world is shaking those structure and traditions. Those realities about what school looks like are absolutely up for renegotiation.

Public education is standing in a wash—between what school has always been and what it has to become. And whether we like it or not, you are entering the profession right at that breaking point. To be fair, people have been predicting the “end” or “reinvention” of school for decades, and I may sound like just another voice forecasting a future that never fully arrives. But this moment feels different. We’re seeing multiple pressure points hit public education all at once: ongoing funding challenges, intensifying political scrutiny, private companies recognizing schools as a massive untapped market, a societal expectation that everything be personalized on demand, and the sudden arrival of AI tools that are reshaping how work and learning happen everywhere else. Taken together, the reality is this—schools aren’t being nudged to change. They’re being pummeled from every direction.

And if we are being honest, this system — at least on a micro level — didn’t work well for many of you as students. You felt it. You lived it. You survived classes that prized sitting still over thinking deeply, coverage over understanding, and tradition over relevance. (And if it DID work well for you, I promise there were students all around you in those classrooms who felt differently.)

And yet—you still chose this work. (Thank you!)

That tells me something important.

You Matter More Than You Think

You are our most experienced experts at being students in modern schools. You’ve seen the best and worst up close as students. You know when learning feels authentic and when it feels like we are all just playing “traditional school” because that is what the schedule says to do. And at the same time, you have traded hats and started to see that system with different eyes. You have recently completed your coursework, learned the latest educational theories, and witnessed the classroom in the teacher’s shoes.

That perspective is not a weakness. Instead, it’s the seed of innovation.

But here’s the hard truth: caring about being a good teacher alone won’t be enough anymore.

If schools don’t evolve, if teachers don’t make the leap to a new model of teaching and learning —someone else will happily do it to us.

Education is moving closer to an Amazon model than the guaranteed monopoly it has long been in the United States. Schools cannot simply assume families will stay local to community schools because we have always existed. As public schools, we are local businesses with a public mission. That means we must fight harder for relevance, trust, and impact.

That doesn’t mean becoming cold or corporate. It means being clear about what actually matters: learning.

Let Go of What Doesn’t Serve the Mission

No matter what you hear from others, know this: You don’t need to carry everything the system hands you.

Some practices schools embrace are relevant and meaningful to learning. Some practices are valuable traditions. Some are habits. Others are pet projects, failed initiatives that have yet to fully dissolve, leadership preferences, community expectations, or a boisterous colleague’s inaccurate perspective.

You will need to think through everything you agree to do in your classroom from this point forward. Each habit, tradition, practice, initiative, and preference you embrace and practice, you permit to be a part of what school will look like in the future.

Here’s your permission slip:

• You can question systems that prioritize compliance over curiosity.

• You can redesign learning instead of just delivering it.

• You can use technology to liberate time and personalize learning, not just digitize worksheets.

• You can push back—with professionalism and purpose—when policies don’t serve students.

Innovation doesn’t mean burning it all down. It means asking one honest question, over and over:

“Does this help students learn better?”

If the answer is no, the tradition may not deserve your loyalty. While you may have to read the room and the situation. (education is a social business that serves many purposes, and there is rarely black and white answers — everything lives in the grey), you may need to push back on accepted norms of schools.

As a young, inspired, thoughtful educator, uncovering that something that has been embraced by the system but does not support student learning should definitely lead you to ask more questions.

Be Human First. Everything Else Is Secondary.

Here’s the part no prep program can fully prepare you for:

Your greatest impact won’t come from being perfect. It will come from being present.

AI and technology will play an important role in the classroom of the future. It has to for us to compete, to stay current, and to transform our educational institutions meaningfully to serve the next generation of learners. But that does not mean educators like you, the people who stepped forward to make a difference, do not have a role in this transformation.

Your humanity is what will make learning and schools the special place they have always been. Lean into family partnerships. Build trust before you build rigor. Let students know they are seen before they are assessed. Show up as a real person who listens, adapts, and believes in them—even when the system feels heavy.

And modernize! Learn the tech tools that are available to you. Ask how they can serve your mission and streamline your work.

Ironically, modernization can help you do the human side of teaching (the most valuable part — the part you signed up for and are most eager to do) more, not less.

When tools handle the logistics, you get time back. When learning is personalized, relationships deepen. When school stops pretending one size fits all, teachers stop pretending they’re okay being exhausted all the time.

This shift—if done well—can actually lead to more balance, more joy, and more sustainability. It can lead to stronger schools, happier teachers, and better learning. Schools that make this transformation will re-assert their place as a foundational pillar of the community.

You Will Be Questioned. That Means You’re Doing Something Right.

You will be challenged by colleagues who benefited from the old system. You will be questioned by families who don’t yet see the urgency. This is especially true for those families whose success is attributed to the way school was in the past. They may end up being the harshest critics of change, because they are also experts on education (and it worked for them).

You will feel the tension of pushing for change that won’t immediately benefit everyone equally.

That discomfort isn’t failure. It’s leadership. And you don’t need a title to lead.

As an educator, regardless of your role right now, you are in the perfect position to lead from your vantage point. This change won’t happen because a superintendent, or a director, or a principal said it should and started an initiative. It will happen because professional educators across the country acknowledge that the time for meaningful change is here and agree that the essential outcome is a system that prioritizes student learning.

And you won’t be doing it alone. There are seasoned educators — rooting for you — who know the system must change and are ready to stand beside you, not in your way.

Hold Onto Your Why—And Be Willing to Rewrite the How

You didn’t enter this profession to protect structures. You entered it to help people grow. That mission hasn’t changed. The methods must.

If we do this right — if we lean into connection, creativity, flexibility, courage, and the tools and structures needed to modernize the educational system — we don’t lose the heart of education. We finally get to center in on the real reason we got into education in the first place. That is an important part of the recipe. It will help to make sure you are a part of the educational solution not just today or tomorrow, but far beyond this school year.

And one day, much sooner than you think, someone newer will be watching you. (I know you don’t believe this. I am telling you from experience — it is true.)

Think about what you want them to say about you and your legacy in education. They will have the opportunity to feel the courage and passion it required to push for meaningful change. They will be experiencing what meaningful transformation of school looks like. They will learn what the new structure of school is and how it benefits learners and supports learning. They may even be pushing up against the changes that your generation of educators pushed for in an attempt to modernize and change with the times.

They will be copying plays out of your educational playbook.

Make them worth copying.