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By: Paul Matthews

I’m going to tell you about the first time I nearly quit teaching.

Believe it or not, this experience has come to deeply shape the way I think about Artificial Intelligence¹ in my teaching practice.

It all started with a student named Bill.

Meet Bill

It was 2014 and I was on my first placement as a trainee teacher. 

As I pulled into the carpark, I realised I was the only one there. Through the ice and the fog of the Tasmanian winter’s morning, I saw a lone figure wandering around the grounds. With little else to calm my first-day nerves, I decided to go introduce myself.

That’s when I met a 9th grader called Bill.

He was friendly, energetic, and surprisingly cheerful despite being eye-wateringly underdressed for the weather. As we talked, I realised I’d be teaching him for History. Glad of an early chance to build rapport, I watched teachers filter into the school, found my mentor teacher, and got settled in.

My Battle with Bill

As it happens, my friendly playground interaction with Bill was somewhat misleading.

I realised this about six minutes into my first lesson as I felt a paper aeroplane graze my head. I looked over to see Bill high-fiving his friends, and this was only the beginning. I was met with constant frustration and opposition.

“I’m going to be a mechanic, why do I need to know about WWI?”

“My dad said he’s never learned a single useful thing from school – this is such a waste of time!”

And, worse still, Bill’s bad attitude was spreading.

Bill and I were in a tug-of-war for the class culture, and I was losing.

As a young, insecure teacher, I felt the need to establish my authority in the classroom. I gave Bill a lunchtime detention where he would have to unfold his plane and complete his work.

It was during this one-on-one time with Bill that the penny dropped:

Bill basically couldn’t read. 

Or write. 

Perhaps I wasn’t in a battle with Bill. 

Perhaps I was in a battle for Bill, and it was a battle I was determined to win.

Here’s what I did (and what I really did)

That night I went home and looked at our work for the next day.

I took our reading and made the following resources:

– Reduced the length and complexity of the reading

– Six key vocab words and gave them simple definitions

– Retrieval practices to help Bill consolidate his learning

– Reflection questions to help Bill apply these concepts to his life

On the surface, what I’d done was make a series of adjustments for a low-literacy learner.

But here’s what I really did:

I offered Bill pedagogical hospitality. 

I structured my teaching and learning in a way that welcomes the outsider, the disadvantaged, and those on the margins. While time does not permit a biblical theology of hospitality, I was mirroring God’s creation, redemption, and new creation hospitality in my pedagogy. 

I was acting as a responsive disciple, and the results shocked me.

Here’s what happened

The difference was day and night.

No more questions about when this information would be used. No more paper aeroplanes. Bill worked hard for two lessons in a row.

You might think that I was overjoyed by this – like it was a feather in my newly minted educational cap.

But you’d be wrong.

In truth, my pedagogical hospitality was well received, and it was one of my most discouraging moments as an educator.

And that’s why I nearly quit teaching

You see, the hospitality didn’t come cheap.

The resources that had allowed Bill to access the lesson took an extra 90 minutes to create. And here’s the thing, I wasn’t just teaching one class; I was teaching four. I didn’t need an extra 90 minutes – I needed an extra six hours.

And unfortunately, that was six hours I didn’t have. 

I spent the next eight weeks of my placement seeing students left out of the learning. I knew exactly what I could do to welcome them but I just didn’t have the capacity.

I hated that tension.

Inviting you into the tension

That is the tension I want to invite you into as we think about how we use Artificial Intelligence in our schools.

We are educators with limited time, and we teach in classrooms that have nearly unlimited needs; our learners are more diverse than ever. In some ways, we are pulled in more directions than ever before.

Imagine if we could use Artificial Intelligence as a tool that allows us to extend hospitality to learners who are

– Struggling

– Marginalised

– Disadvantaged

Because the same adjustments that I made for Bill now take minutes, not hours.

What if we could use AI to welcome more learners into more formational learning more often?

What if that was the purpose that lay underneath our practice?

Where to next?

Who are the ‘Bills’ in your context?

Who are the students who need extra resourcing or adjustments?

By God’s grace, we now live in a world where creating tailored resources for these learners has never been easier.

I encourage you to consider how you might view AI not as a threat to your teaching, but as a tool that allows you to offer rich, pedagogical hospitality to the learners in your care.

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¹ In speaking of AI, I am referring to generative AI tools such as ChatGPT, Google Gemini, Microsoft Copilot, and Midjourney.

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About the Author

Paul is a Christian educator who believes Christian education is central to seeing God’s kingdom spread throughout the earth. He serves as a History teacher at Calvin Christian School in Tasmania, Australia, while also working alongside Christian schools to help them wisely navigate Artificial Intelligence. When not teaching, writing, or speaking, Paul enjoys going on walks with his wife and three sons, and watching the Formula 1.