Over the past month, I have taken a deep dive into Proctor’s history as part of a project for the upcoming edition of the Proctor Magazine. Searching through Proctor’s extensive digital archives, old yearbooks, hardcopies of century-old documents, and local histories of the Town of Andover and Proctor, it is remarkable how resilient this school and this community are in times of challenge.

With the rapid evolution of AI (artificial intelligence), like ChatGPT, teachers around the globe are having to rethink not only their practices in the classroom but the purpose of education as a whole. As AI has infiltrated classrooms, our conversation at Proctor has evolved, from a desire to “catch” students using AI inappropriately on their assignments, to better understanding how we can harness the power of technology to augment the educational experiences of our students. 

As with any disruptive technology, there will be a spectrum of adoption among teachers (and students), with parents providing yet another perspective on how we should be integrating AI into our curriculum. There are no easy answers and perhaps no “right” answers either. There are, however, productive frameworks for moving into a time of disruption. This is where the archival work of the past few weeks has been reassuring. 

Reading through accounts of Proctor’s history within the context of Andover’s history, the school’s faculty and staff have embraced one technological, economic, or social disruption after another: the advent of the railroad, the women’s suffrage movement, the introduction of electricity to town and campus, installation of indoor plumbing, automobiles, the Great Depression, a global war, phones in dormitories, a de-evolution of dress code, domestic unrest, a reintroduction of coeducation, calculators, computers, internet, spell-check, cellphones, a pandemic, and the list goes on and on. 

Each time a disruption presents itself, the school chooses to embrace a lens of change rather than a lens of stasis. When an educational model is rooted in human connection, we learn to live in relationship with one another and to embrace the change that is upon us. 

This connection happens through shared, untethered experiences. It happens in small advisory groups. It happens in dorms during late night conversations between roommates. It happens on teams pursuing shared goals. It happens in classrooms where teachers are focused far more on doing to learn than learning to do. We must remind ourselves of this core commitment to human connection when we read about how AI will change our world as teachers.

We must also remind ourselves that the human condition is one of resilience and adaptability. Disruption will occur regardless of our readiness or willingness to adopt it. When we educate ourselves on the opportunities and threats of a disruption, we position ourselves to model for our students the behaviors we hope they exhibit in their lives.

AI will change the economy, it will change education, it will force us to evolve, but it will not change our adaptability or resilience as a school or as a town. If we can continue to teach young people to understand themselves and their abilities, to appreciate the power of human connection, exposing them to future passions, and providing a foundation to go out and adapt to a changing world, we, and they, will be well situated to embrace all that AI has in store for the world of education.