Iffa Jayyana
By: Shereen El Mallah, Jenny Poon, and youth authors Alex Mathew and Adora Olise
In classrooms across the globe, a quiet, invisible shift is fundamentally altering the bond between teacher and student. It began with the promise of efficiency: a way to manage the crushing weight of administrative burdens and endless grading. Yet, as generative AI becomes a staple of the educational landscape, it is leaving behind a trail of social friction, eroded trust, and a pervasive sense of "cringe" that threatens to hollow out the learning experience.
The core of the issue is not that AI is being used, but how it is being used—and the silence that surrounds it. When technology replaces the human touch in feedback and instruction, the result is a "rupture" that is as subtle as it is damaging.
The Anatomy of a Rupture: The Case of Ms. Chen
Consider the experience of Ms. Chen, a dedicated educator who, like many, found herself buried under an impossible workload. This year, she began utilizing AI to assist in providing feedback on student essays. The results were objectively efficient: she saved two hours per week, and the quality of feedback remained consistent from the first paper to the last. She vetted every word, ensuring the AI’s output aligned with her pedagogical goals.
However, she never disclosed this to her students. There was no school policy requiring it, and, perhaps more tellingly, she struggled to define where her own voice ended and the algorithm’s began.
When Priya, one of her students, received feedback on her latest draft, something felt inherently "off." The comments lacked the specific, warm blend of critique and encouragement that had previously made Priya feel seen and understood. The next time an assignment rolled around, Priya didn’t submit her draft early. She didn’t voice a complaint, but the relational ground between student and teacher had fractured.
Ms. Chen wasn’t cutting corners; she was attempting to survive an unsustainable profession. Priya wasn’t being oversensitive; she was a developing writer for whom the human connection was the primary catalyst for growth. Both were right, and yet, the disconnect was total.
The "Cringe List": Identifying Disingenuous Interactions
For young people, the presence of AI is often marked by specific, "cringe-worthy" signals that break the illusion of authentic connection. Youth authors Alex Mathew and Adora Olise have identified several key "red flags" where AI use feels inherently disingenuous:
- The Aesthetic Tell: AI-generated feedback often carries a distinctive "signature"—a specific, jarring combination of checkmarks, lightbulbs, and an over-reliance on em-dashes that signals a machine, not a mentor.
- The Policy Paradox: When a syllabus includes a stern, bolded warning against AI use, yet the assignment prompts themselves read as if they were drafted by the very tools the teacher just banned, it creates a palpable sense of hypocrisy.
- The Generic Recommendation: In an era of college and career readiness, students are increasingly receiving "personalized" letters of recommendation that are so devoid of specific, human observation that they could apply to anyone.
- The Unknown Audience: Students navigating high-stakes applications now exist in a state of perpetual uncertainty: are their peers using AI to gain an edge, and will an AI—or a human—be the one reading their final submission?
The "Ozempic Analogy": Why We Hide Our Tools
To understand why this is happening, we must look at how we talk—or fail to talk—about AI. Fitz, a 21-year-old student, provides a compelling, if unconventional, analogy. Known among his friends as the "planner," Fitz used AI to curate a flawless spring break itinerary. When asked by a friend if he used ChatGPT, his reflexive answer was a firm "no."
He later reflected on why he lied. He realized that "AI is like Ozempic." When someone achieves a result through traditional "discipline," we celebrate it. When they use a tool to achieve the same outcome, the response is loaded with judgment and an implicit question about what constitutes "real" effort.
In this grey zone, users hide their AI assistance not because they believe they have committed a crime, but because the social norms for AI adoption simply do not exist yet. This lack of transparency is the true cost.
Why Silence is Costly: The Adolescent Perspective
For adolescents, whose identities are constructed through peer feedback and social comparison, this norm vacuum is particularly toxic. When the rules of engagement are unclear, anxiety flourishes. Students are left wondering if their work is truly "theirs," or if their best efforts are being measured against an AI-inflated standard they don’t fully understand.
History warns us of the danger of this silence. As noted by educator Babak Mostaghimi, we have navigated this crisis before. In 2012, the mass adoption of smartphones and social media led to a similar period where adults prioritized bans over guidance. Tech platforms rushed into that vacuum, creating behavioral norms—like doomscrolling and the "like" economy—that prioritized engagement over human well-being. Today, we are seeing the same pattern with generative AI.
A Different Approach: Sensing, Reflecting, and Nudging
If we are to avoid a repeat of the social media crisis, we must shift from a policy-first approach to a culture-first approach. This requires three distinct, relational steps:
1. Sensing: Knowing What is Actually Happening
Traditional surveys are insufficient. They capture data but miss the human experience. We need to build infrastructure that allows students to share "micro-stories" about their AI encounters. Tools like SenseMaker offer a way to map the emotional landscape of AI in schools, allowing districts to see where the friction is actually occurring rather than relying on top-down assumptions.
2. Reflecting: Making Meaning Together
Sensing is useless without interpretation. Schools must create intergenerational forums—not just focus groups—where students and teachers together analyze the patterns. This requires adults to approach the conversation with humility. We must move away from the "rubber-stamp" committee mentality and toward genuine, collaborative inquiry into what we value in the educational process.
3. Nudging: Shifting Culture from the Inside
A "nudge" is a small, low-stakes intervention that nudges social norms in a specific, healthy direction. Consider the success of anti-smoking campaigns like Florida’s "Truth" campaign. They didn’t win by lecturing; they won by reframing the act as one of autonomy against manipulation.
Similarly, if we reframe AI disclosure as an act of ownership rather than an act of "getting caught," we change the social currency of the classroom. Imagine if, instead of hiding the tool, a teacher and student co-authored a guideline: peer reviews happen first to ensure a human connection, followed by curated, AI-assisted feedback that is openly acknowledged. This is not a mandate; it is a cultural agreement.
Implications for the Future of Education
The challenge of AI in the classroom is not a technical problem; it is a deeply human, relational one. If we continue to treat it as a logistical issue—distributing handbooks and banning software—we will only deepen the divide between students and educators.
The goal is not to eliminate AI, but to integrate it in a way that preserves the "human premium." As this technology continues to evolve, the most important work will be the ongoing, uncomfortable, and essential conversation about what we owe to each other in the pursuit of learning.
We must move past the silence. We must start the conversation. Because if we don’t, we risk building a future where the efficiency of our tools comes at the expense of the depth of our humanity.
This article was co-authored by Shereen El Mallah and Jenny Poon, with significant contributions from youth authors Alex Mathew and Adora Olise, and youth contributors Mihir Sedimbi and Fitz Awiakta. The authors utilized AI as an editorial assistant for structure and clarity, while maintaining the integrity of their original drafting.
Raul Delapena Setiawan
Laily UPN
