AI Didn’t Make Us Stop Thinking; It Finally Let Some of Us Start
I wasn’t prepared for how angry I’d feel. The moment the words floated across the room, my entire body tightened, like I was bracing for impact.
“I take pride in not using AI to write. Writing hones my thinking. And if our students use AI, they won’t think critically.”
That sentence didn’t just frustrate me, it transported me straight back to elementary school.
Back to fluorescent-lit classrooms and standardized tests.
Back to score sheets that insisted I wasn’t measuring up.
Back to teachers whispering about learning disabilities that were never diagnosed.
It may surprise people who know me now—professor, scholar, writer—but I was a late academic bloomer.
I didn’t find my stride until graduate school, maybe even later.
Learning always took more from me: more time, more energy, more mental stitching together of ideas that didn’t naturally click.
And the problem wasn’t ability.
It was the narrow way I was required to demonstrate it.
One Way of Thinking Wasn’t My Way of Thinking
When we tell students, “You must write to prove you’re thinking,” we reveal more about our own learning preferences than theirs.
As a kid, being forced into one single mode of expression carved a deficiency into me that I still feel echoes of today.
If I’d had access to multiple ways of learning—visual, conversational, conceptual, collaborative—I would’ve unlocked my potential years earlier. Instead, I learned to compensate, to mask, to try to squeeze myself into a mold that was never meant for me.
That’s why the comment about AI hit so hard.
Because for the first time in my life, AI has given me the learning environment I wish I’d had decades ago.
AI Became the Thought Partner I Always Needed
AI doesn’t replace my thinking.
It frees it.
With AI, I can explore half-formed ideas without fear of judgment.
I can test connections, clarify explanations, and iterate until the concept finally clicks into place.
It has accelerated my ability to express myself, not diminished it.
As a child, I was scolded for solving math problems in ways that didn’t match the “right method.”
Now, my daughter’s teachers celebrate multiple problem-solving paths.
She’s being shown what I wasn’t:
There are many valid ways to understand the world.
We Learn in Different Ways; Why Do We Pretend Otherwise?
Some people think through writing.
Some think through talking.
Some build, draw, act, diagram, or dream their way into understanding.
And some, like me, need a space to explore messy, unpolished ideas with a partner who won’t judge the starting point.
AI doesn’t erase critical thinking.
It amplifies it for learners who have never been well-served by a one-size-fits-all method.
When we force every student into a single form of representation simply because it’s the form we find most legitimate, we don’t strengthen their minds.
We shrink their possibilities.
Our Job Isn’t to Preserve Tradition, It’s to Expand Access
If our real goal is learning, then:
Let the writers write.
Let the talkers talk.
Let the visual thinkers draw.
Let AI help the students who need a cognitive companion, reflective mirror, or brainstorming partner.
Not everyone blooms through the same doorway.
And we shouldn’t lock the others out just because our path worked for us.
AI isn’t the enemy of critical thinking.
For many of us, it’s the doorway into it.
And if you need a visual reminder of who this message is for—this is one of my favorite photos of six-year-old Sarah. The little girl who was bright, capable, curious… and desperately wishing adults would see that she was learning, even if she wasn’t learning their way.
Sarah Gibson is a professor, AI strategist, and Editor-in-Chief of the Journal of Human-Centered AI: Creativity & Practice. She helps people move from fear to flourishing through practical, ethical AI adoption. She teaches and speaks nationally on human-centered responsible AI, AI readiness, and the post-AI classroom.
