Between heart and algorithms: teacher in the AI ​​era

I have been a higher education professor for over 20 years. And, like so many women who are passionate about what they do, I live each semester with a mix of anticipation and enthusiasm. For me, teaching is more than just imparting knowledge — it is guiding, accompanying, believing. It is an almost maternal role: I celebrate my students’ achievements, I am moved by their successes, and I worry when they fail.

Over the past two decades, I have seen several generations come and go. The post-crisis generation was cautious and undemanding, marked by a time of containment. Then came the students of the pandemic, grateful for every moment of in-person socializing, resilient and in need of human connection. And now, here I am, teaching the so-called Artificial Intelligence generation. A hyperconnected generation, full of tools at their disposal, with unlimited access to information — but which often needs help to transform it into knowledge.

When they are good, they are excellent: dynamic, creative, entrepreneurial. They love to experiment, suggest, create. But there are also those who are dazzled by the ease of use. Those who use AI as a shortcut, not as a tool. And that is where my role comes in: teaching people to think. To distinguish between support and substitution. To see AI as an ally, not a crutch.

In higher education, AI can be an asset. It allows rapid access to data, organize ideas, and personalize teaching. In my classes, I encourage its responsible use: to support projects, test hypotheses, and structure thinking. But always with the premise that creativity, ethics, and critical thinking belong to the students.

As a woman, there is something deeply meaningful about being in a place where you are educated, guided and empowered. Because teaching is not just about transmitting content — it is about opening horizons, providing tools, building bridges. And with each student who gains confidence, with each student who finds their voice, I feel like I am contributing to a more conscious, more prepared, more just future.

Today’s young people are fast, yes — but they are also sensitive, attentive, and eager to make a difference. They need challenges, guidance and, above all, someone who believes in them.

My job is to show them that knowledge isn’t just in books — it’s also in curiosity, listening, and sharing. And that technology, no matter how advanced it is, will never replace the beauty of a moment of true learning. That spark in their eyes when they understand something for the first time. The shared laughter in class. The courage to present a new idea.

Basically, being a teacher is this: a constant dedication, an emotional investment, a stubborn belief in others. It is a demanding, exhausting profession, but infinitely rewarding.

I have great hope for this generation. A hope that is not naive, but informed. That recognizes the challenges, but sees them as opportunities. I believe that if they know how to use the tools they have well, if they are encouraged to think and not just reproduce, if they are challenged with demands and supported with empathy, then they can be a brilliant generation.

The future is being built now, in classrooms, on screens, in the conversations we have, in the work we grade, in the dreams we help shape. And it is a privilege to be able to be a part of it. With heart, with demand, and with the certainty that, between algorithms and affections, education continues to be one of the greatest acts of transformation in the world.