For the last two years I’ve had the privilege of piloting dozens of SchoolAI Spaces with teachers across West Virginia. Each experience has convinced me that when AI is carefully choreographed, it frees up cognitive room for deeper analysis, reflection, and creativity — the very muscles we worry AI might atrophy.

Below is the blueprint we use to keep the human (the learner and the teacher) at the center.

1. Anchor AI to a Thinking Taxonomy

The SchoolAI Space Taxonomy for Teachers outlines four distinct thinking goals the bot can support — Access, Practice, Create, Simulate, and Transform — and pairs each with example Spaces such as Guided Research, Writing Coach, or Debate Opponent. When I co‑design a new Space, we start by naming the column we want to strengthen (What kind of thinking is missing right now?) and design AI prompts that scaffold that goal instead of shortcutting it.

Classroom snapshot: In a Grade 7 social‑studies unit on WWI, our Historical Scenario Space placed students in the War Cabinet. The bot surfaced primary‑source telegrams and asked, “What variables matter most for your next move?” Students had to evaluate, justify, and re‑evaluate as the scenario evolved. AI supplied the context, but students supplied the strategy.

2. Dial the “AI Power Spectrum” — Less Help Early, More Coaching Late

Page 2 of the taxonomy introduces an AI Power Spectrum — from Independent Inquiry (0 % AI) through Collaborative Author (100 % AI). Think of it like a dimmer switch:

1. Independent Inquiry – The bot only handles housekeeping (rubrics, resources).
2. Reflective Probing – Socratic nudges (“Why…?”, “How might…?”).
3. Scaffold & Hint – Sentence frames or organizers when students stall.
4. Co‑Ideator & Expert Coach – Brainstorm with targeted feedback, never stealing ownership.
5. Collaborative Author – Iterative revision cycles with tracked changes.

Early in a unit I keep the dial low, forcing productive struggle. As mastery grows (or a deadline looms), we slide the dial right, letting AI speed up cyclical feedback so we can spend class time on discussion, peer critique, and transfer.

3. Capture Creativity‑as‑Evidence

Traditional benchmarks rarely reward imagination, yet creativity is evidence of higher‑order thinking. When we build a Space around creative checkpoints, the AI pauses learners at purposeful moments—after a rough storyboard, a 15‑second melody, or three lines of code—and invites them to drop that artifact into the chat. In seconds the bot:

• Tags skills demonstrated (e.g., narrative pacing, melodic contour, or loop logic).
• Surfaces one gentle nudge (“What mood shift could make this scene more suspenseful?”).
• Logs the artifact on a teacher dashboard so growth is visible long before the final product.

Students still own the imaginative heavy‑lifting; AI simply turns each draft into actionable evidence we can respond to today, not weeks later. Here’s a sample Space that supports students as they create a comic strip. You can also check out this Space that guides students through the creation of their 30-second Film Festival project.

4. Treat AI as a Thought Partner, Not an Answer Key

The best prompt I ever wrote for a Space simply said:

“After welcoming the learner, resist every urge to answer‑dump. Your job is to keep them talking, questioning, and revising until they declare readiness.”

When AI responds as a coach, we hear more student voice, not less. Our “Recall Radar” retrieval Space proves this daily: the bot flashes subtle cues, then asks learners to rate their certainty before revealing anything. That metacognitive pause is where durable learning happens. See my series of Spaces that support writers as they create their argumentative essay. You might also like this Space that takes students on a time-traveling adventure back to the Roaring 20s. Give that a preview and you’ll see how AI acts as a thought-partner, probing students to think critically about their decisions.

5. Leave the Heavy Lifting to Humans

AI can:

• Parse 30 exit tickets in seconds and flag patterns.
• Generate four divergent examples on demand.
• Track revision history and spotlight growth areas.

But only teachers can decide when struggle is productive, which prompt nudges curiosity instead of compliance, and how to celebrate the messy middle of learning.

Call to Action

If you’re ready to shift from “Is AI cheating?” to “Is AI challenging my students enough?”, download the full Space Taxonomy (above) and try designing a single activity where AI’s role is question‑asker, not answer‑teller.

I’ve seen a lot of traction in education communities recently around the idea that the impact of Ai has been relatively small. The panic that rushed across the community in November ’22 seems to have subsided. And though there are some great time-saving ways to leverage Ai, education is still largely unchanged. I would agree.

This is the best way I can communicate why tools like SchoolAi represent such a big leap forward. I know the graphic is a bit general but it’s true. There is a feedback limitation on current tech tools like iReady, IXL, even Khan Academy (excluding KA’s Khanmigo), and that limitation is that while correct/incorrect information is helpful, it tells only a small fraction of the story of that learner. I still don’t know much about that learner’s perceptions, misconceptions, or their thought process. A savvy teacher will even recognize brilliance in a student’s wrong answer, and most of the adaptive platforms dominating education don’t position wrong answers in a way that allows a teacher to capitalize on them. SchoolAi, tuned chatbots, represent a paradigm shift in the actionable feedback provided to teachers.

And don’t be naive, as soon as iReady, IXL, or other MTSS tools can afford to leverage Ai, they will. In fact, if they don’t, they’ll go out of business. There won’t be a need for tools that have a large database of problems and questions. Ai will adjust complexity on-the-fly, per student. The detailed report sent back to the teacher will make current reports look silly.

Assessments in the future will likely be personalized to every learner, measuring knowledge, understanding, application, analysis, synthesis, and evaluation in a way that meets that learner where they are. Perhaps teachers are not distributing the same test to every student on test day. As we’ve seen thus far, progression will be different in each content area. Now that GPT-4.5 has vision, Ai will give actionable feedback on math work. Snorkl.ai, for example, is giving actionable feedback on student’s handwritten work and the student’s verbal explanation.

It’s important to remember that teachers will still have a critical role in the classroom moving forward. The movement towards learner-centered instructional models is certainly increasing.

I have noticed others in the education community signaling 2024 as the end of the “free era” of Ai tools for teachers. I believe they’re right, but I’m going to soak up the golden era of Ai for Education as long as possible. I’ve been quite fascinated with the direction of these tools and the role they may play moving forward. I recently discovered SchoolAi and I’ve had some amazing experiences with it so far. I was reflecting on one such experience and reminded myself that my compass needs to remain pointed at sound pedagogy and increasing the value of the teacher. I think it’s easy to lose our way in this landscape. The shiny new tool can be alluring, but I fear the time we’re saving can come at a cost. Don’t use a tool for the sake of using a tool. If the tool enhances the value of the teacher and contributes to sound instructional moves, then we should consider its place in our classrooms.

SchoolAi Teacher Dashboard

After a recent experience with SchoolAi, I came to the conclusion that Ai chatbots can provide an incredible opportunity to differentiate, promote deeper thinking, and evaluate learning at levels that previously required an immense amount of time. Perhaps my favorite part of SchoolAi are the live updating insights it provides the teacher. While the chatbot is simultaneously conversing with each student, it is also generating thoughtful insights, shedding light on student strengths and weaknesses, and conclusions it is making based on all the conversations. I was most impressed with the way the chatbot relentlessly probed student thinking with questions that encouraged the student to express their thinking in rich ways. In one experience, students were reviewing chapters 1-4 from The Hunger Games. The chatbot consistently asked students questions that required students to empathize with characters, connect events in the story to specific themes, and uncover additional themes of the story through plot details. These weren’t questions that could be asked in a multiple choice assessment.

I’ve since explored many other chatbots and applications in the classroom. I’ve determined that, when well designed, these experiences can be transformative. I’ll include some guidelines that I’ve come to value in my own experience creating these chatbots.

Is there a more divisive and combative conversation to have with a staff than the zero? Just ask the question, What should a student receive when they don’t submit their work? Let’s clarify, we’re talking about the zero on a traditional 100-point scale. For the purpose of this post, we’ll assume the traditional 10-point intervals in the 100-point scale. I am aware this varies wildly if you check schools, districts, or even states across the US.

I’ll begin by saying that many schools and districts have attempted to have this conversation, but some have back-pedaled when the explosion of deep emotions erupted across the school or district. The enemy here is not the zero. The enemy is the 100-point scale, and I’ll do my best to explain.

A zero on a 100-point scale is mathematically inequitable. The entire scale is too heavily weighted on the side of failure. When giving a 0, we actually give a student a score that is worse than failure.

K is for “kill grade”

If you look at the images above, you can see equal intervals between the other letter grades, but there’s this huge gap when we get to F. We could argue over what an A means, what a B means, or what a C means, but let’s hold that for another post. Whatever your descriptors are, F has to mean failure. In the traditional 100-point scale, it would appear there are degrees of failure. Take these humble descriptors as an example:

The zero has an undue deflationary effect on a student’s overall average, the same way the scale would have an undue inflationary effect if we flipped it.

I’ve never seen a teacher give a student a 140 on a test. I imagine they would look at me sideways if I asked them why. Of course, a 140 would be an inaccurate score that would inflate the average of the grade. The zero on a 100-point scale is just as inaccurate and just as deflating to that average score. Let’s do an experiment.

As you see above, the student received a zero and after 11 additional 85s in the gradebook, the student still had not raised the grade back to a B. This is an example of the hole a zero places students in, and it represents the deflationary effect a zero has on the average. The student who received a zero has little motivation moving forward because their grade has been falsified by the impact of the zero.

Let’s compare the effect of the zero versus establishing a floor of 50. Some schools or districts choose to use a 50 to represent missing work because the 50 maintains the equal intervals 100-90, 89-80, 79-70, 69-60, 59-50.

I appreciate the work of so many educators who influenced my thinking on this topic several years ago. Alexis Tamony created a wonderful YouTube video where she displays and discusses this very topic and I appreciate her influence on this post. Despite the evidence presented, I’m not naive. This is still a hard philosophical pill to swallow. I recommend schools and districts seriously consider moving to a scale where a zero makes sense. We use a 4-point scale to calculate GPA, for example. An A is worth a 4, B is a 3, C is a 2, D is a 1, and F is a 0. In this scale, educators could use zeroes that make sense. There are plenty of conversion charts out there if you feel the need to convert these to percentages. The use of percentages are primarily used to rank and sort students. Are there additional advantages to using a smaller scale? Yes! Inter-rater reliability increases dramatically when using a smaller scale. Think about it, can a human really discern learning to 101 different levels (0-100)? No. Can you really communicate the difference between a 78 and an 82?

There also seems to be this fear among some educators that if we establish a floor of 50, some students might do nothing until the end of the grading period where they turn in 2-3 assignments and suddenly they have a passing grade. Here’s an example:

The student had ten scores during the grading period and seven of those were a 50 for missing or deficient work. You see the student submitted three assignments and scored an 85 on those three, which has raised the average to a 60.5, barely a passing score (D) on the traditional 10-point intervals. This leads us to my final consideration. Measuring and communicating learning is very much a human act requiring professional judgment. Educators dismiss this act far too often by allowing computers and phony math to place the final declaration of learning on a student’s grade. As professionals, we should be using professional judgment anytime we place a grade. What would you do in this situation?

I found myself considering recently, in reflection about this journey into distance learning that we’re experiencing right now, what is the most valuable portion of the learning cycle? If you’re reading this, you are most certainly aware that many teachers are video conferencing with their students using a number of possible solutions available to educators right now. I began to consider how unrealistic it might be for a secondary educator to video conference with his/her students everyday. Not that I’m trying to indict anyone who may be doing so, but I tried to consider the nightmare of scheduling such times with secondary students who have 6-7 additional classes on their schedule. So in reflection, I thought of all the time in a learning cycle, what portions might be considered the most valuable time? This is a question I’ve proposed during blended learning trainings I’ve facilitated before, and I believe it can serve us even now. Let’s lay out a typical, albeit generic, learning cycle for students.

• Teacher provides some instruction.
• Students complete a learning experience related to the previous instruction.
• Teacher reviews the student work, provides feedback, diagnoses misunderstandings, offers remediation.
• Cycle repeats.

This is certainly a very general framework and is not intended to represent all classrooms at all. But in general, I imagine most classrooms loosely follow a repetition of a very similar cycle that often concludes with a test or exam of some sort before everything starts over.

I believe education will experience some tremendous changes once school does resume again. Perhaps we won’t see the fruit of those changes until the ’20-21 school year begins, but I believe we will no longer see the schools many walked out of just a few weeks ago. One consideration I believe all secondary teachers will begin to make is this: If my instruction has been outsourced to Google, Youtube, etc. where does that leave me? I would propose that the most valuable portion of teachers’ time, especially during distance learning, might be the portion of the learning cycle where teachers review student work, look at data, provide feedback, diagnose misunderstandings, and offer remediation and enrichment. This isn’t rocket science and many may read this and say “I’ve always felt that way, Derek.” I would propose that if you’re engaging your students in video conferencing, leave the instruction to Google, Youtube, your online textbook, etc. I believe we’re in the midst of a shift from Masters of Content to Managers of Learning.

Two of my favorite tools are Nearpod and Desmos Activities. I love the platforms both of these education companies utilize and I think they can provide a lot of merit for distance learning. Given the proposal I made in the last paragraph, how could teachers utilize tools like these to provide instruction, offer a learning experience, and review student work, give feedback, diagnose student thinking, etc.? When considering when to engage my students in a video conference where we might have real conversation that is tougher to manifest digitally, I would suggest letting your video recordings, your own screencasts, Google, Youtube, or Khan Academy provide the instruction necessary. Lay out the learning experience for your students. Then engage in a video conference to offer the component of learning that I believe is most human and most valuable. Engage your students in real conversation, through a video conference, to review student work samples you’ve previously collected, share data revealed by your learning platforms, diagnose misconceptions, correct mistakes, highlight divergent thinking, and have thought-provoking questions on hand that allow you some insight into your students’ thinking.

Back in February of 2015 I read an amazing blog post by Jimmy Casas.  Jimmy wrote about a particularly moving experience he had with the driver of a shuttle van while at a conference in Atlanta.  The blog post struck me to the core, and I had only read about this man named Rodd.  I am nearing the completion of my first year in administration.  For some time now, my perspective and view of school leadership has been shaped and driven by the work of guys like Jimmy and the rest of the WGEDD crew: Joe Sanfelippo, Jeff Zoul, and Todd Whitaker.  I got to meet these guys for the first time at WGEDD in Wheeling, West Virginia back in December.  I knew right away the things I had read weren’t just words but they were action.  Jimmy greeted conference attendees with a high five as they signed in at the registration table.  Jimmy walked around and spoke to everyone, no doubt, making a point to make some kind of contact with each and every attendee.  I watched, with purpose.  As other speakers took the stage and presented, Jimmy didn’t disappear as if he were bigger than what was being shared.  Jimmy didn’t talk to his buddies in the back, browse social media from his phone, or read the newspaper.  Jimmy stood in the doorway during Todd Whitaker’s keynote and soaked it in just like the rest of us.  I imagine there may have been opportunities he missed, but to my keen eye, Jimmy didn’t miss many opportunities to lift up someone else.  His efforts weren’t lost on me, not at all.

I study, read, and even listen to what others have to say about the service of people.  I subscribe to the notion that my primary job as assistant principal or principal of the school is to serve.  I believe trust is the oxygen that all educators breathe and that trust is earned through genuine action to build and nurture relationships.  Beth Houf and Shelley Burgess, authors of Lead Like A Pirate published this image last year and it’s been the single response I give when someone asks me what I do.  

Tuning in and living an outwardly focused life isn’t easy for me.  I don’t believe it’s in my nature to look to others first.  I can admit that’s an area of weakness and one that I have to be intentional about improving.  Mark Batterson’s book The Grave Robber recently reminded me of the famous study where viewers were asked to watch a 1 minute clip of people standing in a circle passing a basketball.  Viewers were asked to count the number of passes made by people wearing white shirts.  About 30 seconds into the clip, a woman wearing a full gorilla suit walks into the frame, beats her chest a few times, then walks out.  After the clip ends, viewers were asked if they saw a gorilla.  About 50% of the viewers said they did not see a gorilla.  The researchers concluded that inattentional blindness explains why some viewers didn’t see a gorilla that walked right in front of them.  I concluded that I’m afflicted with inattentional blindness far too often, missing opportunities to serve and lift up others, even when they are right in front of my face.

This past Thursday and Friday I chaperoned a senior trip to Washington DC.  The driver of our charter bus was named Larry.  I greeted Larry as soon as he picked us up at 1:30am Thursday morning.  Larry and I were packing duffle bags and suit cases in the bottom storage when I introduced myself.  I sat in the front seat of the bus and my wife, Julie, sat right behind Larry.  Larry struck up some conversation with Julie and I, as well as the rest of the chaperones seated near us.  It’s funny now, but I remember several chaperones and I remarking about how incredible Larry’s hearing must have been because he chimed in on conversations even when we thought he couldn’t hear us or wasn’t listening.  It was apparent Larry was a great listener.  My wife, Julie, is pregnant and due in August.  Needless to say, walking 10+ miles in the rain Thursday touring DC was taxing on my body and I’m not carrying an extra!  Larry was always quick to ask about Julie as she got back in the bus each time, often calling her super-mom!  Larry asked about our daughter Miley.  He asked how old she was (5 years old) and if she was ready for the new baby.  Larry laughed at the stories we told and he even shared some stories of his grandkids.  Before the bus arrived back at my school at 1:00am Saturday morning, Larry asked if he could speak to my wife and I before we got off the bus.  Julie and I waited up front as our students exited one by one.  Larry proceeded to offer to pray for us and remarked about how friendly we were to him during the trip.  Larry said the most thoughtful prayer, even considering to pray for my daughter Miley as she would have to adjust to the newborn baby entering our family.  We thanked Larry over and over, overwhelmed by his kindness at the time.  Immediately, the memories of Larry’s small actions flooded my mind in that moment as I began to realize all the selfless, outwardly focused actions I had witnessed from Larry during our trip.  I was impacted, to the core, by Larry’s kindness and his genuine service of other people.  I have never driven a charter bus.  In fact, I’ve not been behind the wheel of any motor vehicle of that size.  As we drove through Thursday morning traffic getting into DC, it was easy for me to imagine how focused a charter bus driver must be in order to safely navigate such a large vehicle.  I noticed Larry used a Garmin GPS and his cell phone to plug in destinations in order to aid his directions.  The Garmin GPS provided a trucker’s route, avoiding bridges that don’t meet capacity, low overhangs, and other obstacles the average driver never considers.  I can’t fathom the effort required to drive a 55 passenger charter bus in the middle of DC traffic.  My point is, Larry had every reason to be focused and tuned in to driving that bus, yet he still managed to connect and serve those in his seats.  In my opinion, Larry is a man with great vision, overcoming inattentional blindness and truly tuning in to the opportunities around him to serve and connect with others.

I just completed my coursework for my leadership certificate.  Of course I’ve got a few small hoops that consist of paperwork, but I’m relieved that I’ve summited that mountain.  However, this summit just provides me a better view of the next one.

Pixabay CC0 Public Domain

I’m reminded of the people who served a role in getting me on my current path.  I had no interest in becoming a school leader until I connected via Twitter.  Before Twitter, I could count on one hand the number of school leaders I knew with an unusual passion for improving schools and empowering those around them.  Thankfully, I got the opportunity right after college in 2009 to work for and develop a lasting relationship with one of those school leaders.  I left a job last summer that required a five minute drive and accepted a position in a school that requires a fifty minute drive one way.  I took that position so I could work for another local school leader from whom I knew I could learn and grow.  Through Twitter, I was introduced to a network of school leaders who all share an unusual passion for what they do.  That lead to some irreplaceable relationships developed across social media and face to face through Edcamps.

As I pursue this next chapter in my career, I’m also reminded of the local educators who I’ve connected with that share an unusual passion for driving change in our state.  I intentionally go to extraordinary measures to tell my story and as a result of frequenting as many areas of social media as I possibly can, and attending as many conference events that I can, I’ve been able to seek out other passionate educators who share a moonshot vision for change.  The more I read and listen to leaders like Seth Godin, the more I’m convinced that if you want to bring true value to your organization, be someone who brings people together.  The people in our society who are linchpins, irreplaceable people in organizations, don’t become linchpins alone.  A fundamental function of the internet is to bring people together.  Think about it.  Name something successful on the internet that has not brought people together.  I fear that educators, in general, have ignored the internet over the last twenty years and neglected to leverage the power of connection to other people.  Wonder why Weight Watchers is so successful?  It brings people together.  Dieting alone has failed millions of times.  Try dieting with a group or network of other people who share the same passion.  Weight Watchers hasn’t stumbled upon any revolutionary science, they just brought people together.  I am thankful for those local linchpins I’ve met in the last three years that continue to inspire and motivate me to pursue that next mountain.  I am convinced that if true change is to occur in our state, it will start with us.

Finally, I want to thank my wife that has always provided our home and our relationship with the right soil that allows me to grow and pursue those next mountains.  She, too, is a linchpin.  I highly recommend future educators seek out a lifelong companion that shares similar passions 🙂

In my corner of public education it’s very much the norm to remain inside your comfort zone.  In order to utter anything related to best practices or school improvement, you must have the right title in front of your name.  

Being vulnerable enough to share what’s going on inside your classroom, your grading practices, your instructional techniques, and your engagement strategies is often seen as bragging or gloating.  This attitude that educators must not challenge themselves and certainly not challenge each other doesn’t seem to align with what we’re asking our students to do.  What teacher wouldn’t want a classroom full of students who are vulnerable and eagerly seeking to strengthen their weaknesses, persevere, and learn something new?

I hope this post challenges educators to consider whether or not they are in our out.

• Administrators, what opportunities do you provide your staff to be vulnerable?  What opportunities do you provide those who talk easily in front of others?  What about those educators who are uncomfortable sharing in front of others?  How are you modeling being outside of your comfort zone?  How are you modeling vulnerability?  What challenges do you provide your teachers?  Can you name 3-5 administrators who challenge you and push you to do better for your school?
• Teachers, can you name 3-5 educators who challenge you and push you to do better for your students?  What have you shared with others lately in an attempt to be more vulnerable and step outside your comfort zone?  If your school provides few opportunities to grow, how do you leverage digital connections to learn, share, communicate, and grow?

I’ve recently went through a stretch where being an educator has become a real struggle.  I’ve been a connected educator engaged in blogging and on-demand anytime learning for almost two years.  My classroom has been an area of frustration recently and I’ve been carrying the feelings of inadequacy for long enough.  My eighth grade students recently took a field trip to the county tech center for a tour.  We also took part in a career fair held at a different location during the same trip.  Included in the round trip was a 20 minute bus ride.  As if you can’t already tell, a day like this was much appreciated by this struggling teacher.  It was an opportunity for me to relax and connect with my students.  We had an awesome time!  I always try to capture experiences like this on camera, so I took several pictures of the students during the career fair.  I posted some of those pictures on Twitter in an attempt to share some of the great experiences students had that day.  A couple days later I received a tweet from a parent saying “I love that you love our kids!”  It provided an immediate reminder that I desperately needed.  When all else seems to be failing, just love your kids.  Talk to them, show them, express it in your actions, and weave it into the very fabric of your classroom, your communication, your discipline, and your management.  If need be, put everything else on hold a day or two and just show your students that you love them.

In addition to my experiences above, I want to remind myself and all educators that Christmas time isn’t a season of joy for all students.  For some students, it’s a week away from a guaranteed meal, the safety of the school building, validation and respect from a teacher, and a listening ear.  I am encouraged by the commitment of my teammates to look more closely at the lives our students lead outside of the school walls.  Practicing more tolerance and awareness may rarely result in a solution for those students but it radiates life changing love.  I hope this post finds another educator in need of restoration.  I hope your parents can say “I love that you love our kids!”

Picture from: http://jwalkinguphill.blogspot.com/2012/04/love-see-teach.html