Sunday, May 10, 2026
ICYMI: Mothers' Day 2026 Edition (5/10)
Sunday, May 3, 2026
ICYMI: Essay Contest Edition (5/3)
Once a year, I'm the director of a local writing competition for high school students in the various school districts of the county. The competition is in honor of one of the giants of English teaching in our area; she graduated from here, worked in the original OSS, became a lady CEO, taught English, and left the classroom only because there was such a thing as a mandatory retirement age (you can read about her here).
The contest has run for thirty-some years, and it is precisely the sort of thing that cheatbots make challenging, though historically our winners write way better than bots do, and I work hard to design a bot-resistant prompt. But it's a fun time for me-- part of my duties include being first reader and culling the hundreds of entries down to a manageable stack for table judges.
So that has been my week. But I still have a reading list for you.
The Atlantic Platforms Charter School Propaganda: Anti-Woke EditionMonday, April 27, 2026
AI Is Not For Amateurs
Ben Riley has pulled a lot of attention lately for the story of his father, who turned to AI for advice on how to manage his cancer, and died because of it. Riley gets into the experience of being a New York Times story subject in a recent post, and looks into the reporters idea to show oncologists the advice the AI was providing. Riley shares their responses, and even for AI, it is shockingly, horribly wrong.
A trained cancer doctor would recognize that it was nonsense. An amateur might be fooled by how AI manages to mimic the look and feel of s real medical report.
This points to a recurring theme in AI use. The "human in the loop" principle is all about including a human being who can actually understand--and check-- the AI output. Or consider one of the more popular AI assignments for students-- have a LLM write about a topic you know well, and count up all the mistakes it makes. In other words, experts.
Large Language Models can perfectly mimic form and confidence. They have, literally, no shame, less than even the most shameless bullshit artist that ever sold you some Florida real estate or a White House super-duper ballroom. They are elegantly mechnized Dunning-Kruger machines.
I recently sat and talked to someone who works in the computer tech and coding world and describes himself as a power user of AI. AI does save him and his team time, but there are caveats. AI doesn't remember what it has done. "It's like talking to a smart person with Alzheimer's." And it is not trustworthy. The project has to be broken down into chunks, and then each chunk has to be run through testing, designed by and/or involving a human coder in order to determine if the code actually does what it is supposed to do. The resulting process is still faster than the old all-human approach, but it still requires the involvement of humans with expertise to check the work, go back, re-do, check again, and on and on. It is most definitely not "Press a button and an hour later a fully-completed project is ready to go."
The conversation raised lots of questions for me. If the AI is doing all the entry-level grunt work under the watchful expert eye of human accountability sinks, then where will the future expert eyes come from?
I'm also thinking of all those folks happily burbling "I use AI to write my journalism-flavored content" or "I use AI to write my lesson plans," and wondering if their process looks similar, if they are taking the bot through building up a lesson plan step by step, carefully examining each product every step of the way with their own expert eyes. Because I'm betting not.
Because while coding involves a lot of time-intensive grunt work hours that can be collapsed by AI, writing things does not. Doing the thinking work (outlines, brainstorming, etc) is how you get ready for the writing work, and that includes writing a lesson plan. If you have the AI write the outline, you still have to do the thinking part. In short, if you use the bot to write your lesson plan in a responsible, professional manner, I don't see it saving you any amount of time.
In fact, if you really are an expert, I'm betting lesson plans or writing by bot, if done well, will actually take more time than just doing it yourself. The people who are finding it botting their way through the work are, just like the students using cheatbots, the folks least qualified to use the bot without producing junk.
It is the central irony of AI is that it's really only safe to use if you are already an expert in your field. And that's a terrifying thought when you consider that AI has the potential to completely gut the pipeline that would ordinarily produce experts.
Mind you, expertise is not a guarantee of well-used bots. AI repeatedly encourages users to trust its illusory expertise. Last week CNN reported that a top-ranked lawyer at "one of the most prestigious firms on the planet" became the latest in a long string of lawyers tripped up by AI error. He had to send a letter of apology to a judge after submitting a filing loaded with errors-- it took three pages to highlight and correct all of them. The mistakes were caught by opposing counsel.
All of this underlines one clear idea-- of all the people who shouldnt be using AI, students shouldn't be using it the most. Jessica Winters, in her recent New Yorker article, cites a host of experts who point out the many ways that AI is not a useful, appropriate, or even safe tech to include in education. But it is already oushed heavily in all manner of K-12 education.
The Chromebooks, which the students use in every class and for homework, came pre-installed with an all-ages version of Gemini, a suite of A.I. tools. When my daughter, who is in sixth grade, begins writing an essay, she gets a prompt: “Help me write.” If she is starting work on a slide-show presentation, the prompt is “Help me visualize.” She shoos away these interruptions, but they persist: “Help me edit.” “Beautify this slide.” The image generator is there, if she’d ever wish to pull the plug on her imagination.
There are so many reasons to keep AI away from students. At the very least, we should be replacing all the cute little "become an AI expert" lesson plans helpfully provided by AI corporations with lessons about what AI is not and can not do, and nwhy children should avoid it like they avoid strangers in vans offering them candy.
Winters asks what it will take to push AI out of schools, and the answer, I think, is a whole hell of a lot because a lot of very powerful people have bet a very large amount of money that they can push AI everywhere, regardless of what harms it will do. It is as if the wealthiest corporations in the world have bought a vast supply of very powerful crack and they now are desperate to move it into any market they can think of.
AI is not for amateurs in any field, and I only grudgingly accept that in some forms, it may have some use for some experts. In education, I think it will be awesome for cranking out lesson plans that administrators demand but don't read and teachers generate but don't use. For anything else, educators had better be prepared to use it like grown-ass experts in their field and not like a 14-year-old trying to generate a term paper ten minutes before it is due. And if using it like an expert in your field turns out to create a process that is longer and less productive than the non-AI version, well, experts should know how to get the job done.
Sunday, April 26, 2026
ICYMI: Soccer Edition (4/26)
The Board of Directors is trying soccer this spring and their first match was yesterday, in the rain. They have not yet revealed any special aptitude for the game, but it does involve a lot of running hard up and down a field, and that is their preferred sporty activity. It gets us all outside and moving around while breathing air and touching grass and just generally interacting with real things and other humans, and that seems like rather a huge win.
We have been a low-screen household since they boys were born. They have no phone, no tablet, little tech at all, and watch only a tiny bit of tv. Most of their screen time happens, as you might guess, at school. I'm at peace with that, for now, because they do need some basic computer literacy to deal with the world, and confining it to school seems like an easy way to put guardrails around it. We'll see if my old district (where the board attends school) will get more restrictive about this stuff.
The hard part of a school's tech policy is parents, so I am hoping that we don't-give-my-kid-a-phone parents will be growing in numbers (because if you want your child's school to have a policy restricting smart phone use, you could help by not giving your kid a smart phone).
Here's the reading list for the week. Enjoy it in good health.
School Vouchers Fail the Civil Rights Test. The Federal Program Is No Exception“Choice” is a compelling slogan, but with private school vouchers, it’s the school’s choice, not the families.The Blue State Voucher Express
It’s not that the wealthy become evil; it’s that their environment stops teaching them the things that nonwealthy people are forced to learn simply by living in a world that pushes back. When you can buy your way out of any mistake, when you can fire anyone who disagrees with you, when your social circle consists entirely of people who need something from you, the basic mechanism by which humans learn that other people are real goes dark.
This week at Forbes.com I looked to Ohio, where one more school board wants folks to understand that hate does, in fact, have a home in their district. And they're getting sued for it.
Trombones and Danny Elfman-- what else could a person need.
Friday, April 24, 2026
Los Angeles Resolves To Reduce Student Screen Time
It took over a decade, but the Los Angeles Unified School District may finally be getting smart about computer tech in classrooms.
It was way back in 2014 that John Deasy worked up a cozy deal with Pearson and Apple to spend taxpayer dollars on iPads for LAUSD students. Only he got caught striking a sweetheart deal for products so awful, so lacking in promised software, that it lost him his job. Deasy was a graduate of Eli Broad's Fake Grad School of Ed Management, the ultimate "treat schools like a business" training backed by a guy who in 2016 decided to just take over the district and privatize the whole thing.
Then there was that time in 2017 when the district decided they'd drop $80 or $90 on a bunch of cool software, including a program (I am not making this up) recommended because it was a big hit in Uruguay.
But this school year something happened. Maybe it was the tide shifting nationally, maybe parents had had enough. Maybe the fact that LAUSD followed the national trend and completely banned cell hones from classes. But parents started putting pressure on the district.
Actually, I could believe it was the device ban. It took effect in February 2015, and it was one of the toughest ones in the country-- no personal devices, including not just smart phones but also smart watches. And that ban just made the presence of the iPads stick out. As NBC quoted one parent, who found their child was using the school-issued iPad to watch Youtube and play Fortnite--
“It makes no sense to me,” Byock said. “We’ve banned the cellphones, but it doesn’t matter, because the kids are using the school-issued devices in exactly the same way.”
Exactly (Also, if you haven't come across this one yet, students years ago figured out that you can "chat" via a shared Google document).
The district doesn't have a policy in place yet, but they have passed a resolution to get it done. Minimize the screen time, eliminate it entirely for earliest grades, encourage the use of paper and pen assignments. It states in part:
While access to and developing skills in technology are critical in a digital world, excessive screen time can be associated with vision problems, increased anxiety and depression, addictive behavior, reduced attention span, difficulty managing emotions, lower academic achievement, and weaker cognition, according to the American Academy of Pediatrics. A growing body of research indicates that excessive and unstructured screen use can negatively impact student attention, mental health, and overall wellbeing and can be particularly harmful for younger students. Research indicates that children 8 to 11 years old who exceed screen time recommendations are at higher risk for obesity and depressive symptoms and have scored lower on cognitive assessments.
The ability to stand up to tech companies and computer-related FOMO is coming just in time, just as Silicon Valley is hell bent on trying to convince us that schools should be packed to the rafters with awesome AI crap. It's inevitable! You don't want your students to be left out!
Well, yes. I kind of do. It is ironic that LAUSD, with its history of boneheaded tech moves, is the first major district to make a conscious attempt to dial back the screens for students. But it would be great if they were the leading edge of a new wave that minimized screen time for the next generation.
Monday, April 20, 2026
A Big False Assumption About AI In Schools
Over on the dead bird app, you can find the AI Being Dumb account, an invaluable source. It recently highlighted the Andon Labs experiment in letting AI run a store. Two items of note. One is that the AI hired humans to do some of the work (though it didn't tell them when to show up). The other is that folks started using Google Reviews to try to get the store to stock products, like $260,000 worth of paper clips, tungsten metal cubes, barrels of oil, or 413,793 KitKats.
This highlights one of the assumptions of every discussion about AI tutors and AI paper graders and AIs in place of humans in education. The assumption is that once we replace the human actor with an AI agent, everyone else will keep interacting with the AI agent as if they were still dealing with the human.
That's a silly assumption, particularly in a school setting. Students do not even treat humans like other humans. Part of September is the annual Testing Of The Classroom Boundaries as well as te annual Mapping Of The Expectations. Students conduct these activities, sometimes augmented by the Existing Reputations of the adult humans, and use the collected data to make their choices for the remainder of the year. All of this testing and mapping is conducted withing each student's personal rules for how one treats other human beings.
This is part of the rich web of human relationships that support and enrich education. The AI-in-education crowd seems to think that one can swap out any human node of that web and replace it with a bot and nothing important will change.
For the moment, I don't want to focus on the dehumanizing of a human activity and dynamic. I want to focus on this question-- how will young humans act when they find themselves educationally yoked to a robot instead of a human. Expect a couple of effects.
Erasing ethical boundaries. Most humans operate on the assumptions that we owe other humans a good-faith attempt to communicate honestly. Yes, lots of people violate that assumption, but the fact that te boundary exists is why we have a whole language about lies and dishonesty that describes the transgressive nature of not making that good-faith, honest effort. But what do we owe a bot? Is there any reason to make a good-faith honest human effort in responding to or interacting with a non-human bot?
This may seem like esoteric philosophical noodling that young humans would not waste a minute pondering, but I assure you they get it on some level. Why do schools spend so much time hooting and hollering at the onset of Big Standardized Test season, trying to connect the test to students' relationships with their teacher and schools? Because students on level understand that they don't owe any good-faith honest effort to whatever faceless unknown buraucrats are behind the BS Test, so schools figure they'd better activate student's connection to teachers and school. "I know you don't owe it to Pearson or education reformsters to give this an honest try, but how about doing it for Mrs. Swellclass and the East Egg Battling Chickens?"
Do you think a student will give the same size and shape of effort to a bot that they would give to their beloved human teacher, or even their sort-of-don't-mind human teacher? Some will decide to see how entertaining bad-faith efforts can be; what kind of baloney will the bot accept? All will figure out how to deal with the bot-generated pressure to create human-crafted AI slop. They may fight back, give in, try to outsmart the bot, but only a few will keep trying to do their best as if they were working for a human.
It is worst for any instruction or assessment that involves writing. Writing is impervious to objective evaluation; everyone who grades writing assignments does so with their own set of biases in place. Another AI falsehood applies here; decades of fiction and years of marketing have primed us to think of robot intelligence as perfectly objective, strictly factual and "true." It is not. It reflects whatever biases are progremmed into it (and it has some, deliberately or not). You can barely swap out human for human without changing the definition of "good" writing; you certainly can't swap out human for bot without blowing up the definition entirely.
There are a hundred bad assumptions and built-in problems with AI in education. But we have to include the way proponents ignore the effect AI will have on how folks interact with the school. Parents will not treat your AI slop letter the same way they will treat a human note. Students will not complete assignments for the AI the same way they would for a human. Taking the human out of human interaction matters, and the people who don't admit it are just too busy trying to sell some education-flavored slop.
Sunday, April 19, 2026
ICYMI: Sumter Edition (4/19)
This past week we sailed past the 165th anniversary of the bombardment of Fort Sumter, yet one more example of a piddly thing tipping a country over into major problems. By coincidence, I was reading Erik Larson's The Demon of Unrest, which covers the period between Lincoln's election and the attack on the fort. It's a good read, and like all of his books, does its history homework even as it reads like a novel. There were many striking things to note, not the least of which is once again the degree to which enslavers really thought they were the good guys, and weren't just angry about having their economic system threatened, but were really butthurt about being treated like they were in the wrong. They couldn't have been more upset if some Northerner had called them deplorables. It's also striking that the 19th century outrage machine, primitive though it was, performed the very modern trick of getting the South upset over their certainty that Lincoln, if elected, would outlaw slavery on day one. And of course, the belief that all men are not, in fact, created equal; some are more entitled to power and privilege than others and that's how a proper country should be run. That's a through line for many folks in American history, and the guiding principle of the current regime (along with the related idea that the Betters should not have to take care of the Lessers).
Good book. Worth a read (particularly if you are someone who has to teach Mary Chestnut diary entries).
Here's the week's list.
Ten Commandments law is ‘distortion,’ ‘appropriation’Saturday, April 18, 2026
More Edu-AI-Robot Ideas
While nobody seems ready to jump on board with Melania Trump's silly robot teacher idea, some folks just can't help trying to tweak it a little. The results are reminder of just how little the AI Bot revolution has to offer schools.
Over at the Fordham Institute blog, Dale Chu (who calls Trump's idea "dazzling," so you know we're off to a bad start) says it's hard to imagine schools using robot teachers "so long as human teachers are available." But what about some other stuff?
Maybe it would be "plausible" to use humanoid robots for jobs that are hard-to-staff, low-paying or "more transactional in nature." For example, "In most districts, school support staff (e.g., cafeteria workers, bus drivers, custodians, playground monitors) represent a substantial share of school employees."
So, a robot lunch lady? Lunch room monitor? Playground monitor? Good lord, how would that even work? Is it really an improvement for a child to get their lunch from a robot-powered vending machine? And if there is a robot that can pick up the subtle clues that shit is about to go down on the playground or at a cafeteria table, that robot could be put to work on far more sophisticated and important tasks. AI has not yet demonstrated any sort of ability to read the room.
And bus driver??!! Seriously? Self-driving automobiles are still short on safety and dependability-- how much more complicated is the job of a school bus, with its large ungainly body and the need for multiple stops. I suppose we can replace a custodian with a Roomba, but I can't help feeling that, again, the work is a little complicated for a robot.
Plus-- and this matters a lot-- these jobs all represent another level of student support, another layer of adult humans that students get to interact with as they do the daily work of learning how to be fully human in the world.
"To be sure, a robot that can monitor a hallway, supervise a lunchroom, or assist with routine logistics may not be ideal," says Chu in a sentence that should end with "may not actually exist." But his argument is that robots are "arguably better than leaving those functions, understaffed, unsupported, or shifted onto already stretched teachers." Unspoken is the rest of his argument-- that placing inadequate robots in those roles is arguably better than spending the money necessary to attract and retain humans for these jobs.At the same time, caution is warranted. Schools are social institutions that help shape norms, relationships, and a sense of community. The presence of adults in hallways, cafeterias, and playgrounds contributes to a culture of supervision, care, and belonging that cannot be easily replicated by machines. Replacing too many human roles risks eroding the very fabric that makes them work.
And then this--
The same logic that makes robots attractive in moments of scarcity can, if applied too broadly, lead to a gradual hollowing out of human institutions. What begins as a practical response to labor shortages can, without discipline, evolve into a default preference for automation, even in contexts where human interaction matters most.
So maybe Chu is just constructing a very subtle straw man so that he can make a point about automating education:
However far the technology advances, the image of a robot instructor entering a classroom captures both the appeal and the limits of the idea. It is easy to imagine machines layered into the routines of schooling, especially where tasks are repetitive and predictable. It is far harder to imagine them displacing the relationships at the center of teaching and learning. The more likely future in education is not one in which robots replace humans, but one in which they remain peripheral tools—useful in discrete ways, but never central to how children are taught or how schools are run.
I'm not so sure it's easy to imagine for people who actually work in schools, but of course that's not the Fordham audience. Maybe Chu is just trying to sneak up on them. Maybe the audience is supposed to be alarmed by the future he posits in the beginning. But I am afraid too many people will only read the first half of this piece when it's the last few paragraphs that include the actual points worth listening to.
Thursday, April 16, 2026
Schools' Unpaid Labor Pains
So this week, I was the asshat.
A local school district shared a digital poster advertising some job openings. I shared it with a glib comment on Facebook, and then other folks piled on. And then the person who made it joined in, and she was hurt. The poster was something she had put together over the weekend, on her own time. And she is someone who has been a professional colleague of my wife. So I know that she's a dedicated educator. So, yeah. I had forgotten Rule $1.
I had also forgotten the rule about being clear, because I never meant to shame her. I meant to shame her district, because while I didn't know who exactly had created the poster, I was pretty sure I knew that it was a person who was not specifically hired to do that work, nor given the time, support or pay to do it. And I was correct.
But isn't that the dynamic in education way too often. Some educator takes on a task they feel needs to be done. Administration provides no time to do the work, no serious compensation for the work, no support or resources for that work, and then somehow, when the results are less than perfect, everyone including the person who was trying to do the job, assumes that any critiques of the result should be and are directed at the person who did the work rather than the district that sent them out to try to get it done. The district tapes a pair of paper wings onto an educator's back, shoves her off the top of the building, and then folks gather around to critique her crumpled form. Or--almost worse--give her an award and a heartwarming news profile focusing on her heroic work flapping those paper wings. But nobody asks the district, "Why the hell were you making her try to fly off the building with paper wings??!!"
You can see it in every single discussion of every single school-related issue.
We have umpty-zillion studies and anecdotes to tell us that time needed for administrative stuff is a big issue for teachers, a major stresser in the work. We dither and discuss as if the solution is some mystery. Restructure the profession? Or maybe magical AI assistants! But the obvious solution is to provide teachers with the amount of time required to do the amount of work they're given.
EdWeek's 2022 survey found that the median number of hours per week worked by teachers was 54 ish. There isn't a school in the country that wouldn't grind to a halt if teachers worked to the contract-- in other words, only worked the hours for which they're actually paid.
And there's the other extra unofficial duties that teachers take on. Every building has lead teachers, whether they are titled and paid or not. There are the people in the building who coordinate things like cards for birthdays and getting well and condolences. There are the people who are the unofficial It helpers. For years I was The Guy Who Runs Graduation Rehearsal and Ceremony, and I had the job because I inherited it from the last person who had it. It wasn't official or compensated, but there I was because somebody had to do it, and I didn't mind because I loved my school and the traditions connected to it.
And that's all on top of the extra classroom work itself. Special Ed teachers and their mountains of paperwork. English teachers up till late because they have a stack of papers to grade. The most fundamental hard part of teaching is that you do not have enough paid time to get the job done; to do the job even sort of the way you know it needs to be done, you will have to volunteer hours.
Schools function on all those volunteered hours. It keeps things cheap, and administrators like it because it takes one more flaming possum off their desk. But if you are one of the people providing this unpaid labor, you really need to be motivated by your love for the school because otherwise you'll start to wonder about how unimportant this job must be if nobody is providing resources or support to get it done.
The digital era has provided more new examples. Your district should have an active and professional online and social media presence-- and the district should be both paying someone and also proving that person with hours in which to do the job. Some staff member shouldn't be left to do it for free during lunchtime or on weekend afternoons. (Odds are that the charters, cyber charters, and voucher-accepting schools you're competing with have hired someone to do the job.)
What I should have posted was something like "Well, this is a good try, but why hasn't the district hired someone to handle this kind of work?" We should be yea-anding these discussions. "Yes, Mrs. McTeachlady did a fine job on that project, and what is the district going to do to provide her with resources, time, and support to do it next time?" God bless the people who try, and shame on the people who let them struggle on their own .
The answer to all of this will always be A) money and B) convenience. "We could do this the right way, but it would be hard, and cost money!" Meanwhile, in the background, we have the usual chorus of folks saying, "Well we spend more and more on education, and yet test scores don't go up, so we should spend no more." I have a response for all these people, but I have already broken Rule #1 once this week, so it will have to wait.
Wednesday, April 15, 2026
AZ: Charter Shenanigans From Primavera
Meet Damian Creamer. His LinkedIn profile lists him as a "courageous innovator" and "future-ready leader," and if nothing else, he seems to have mastered the innovation of becoming a future-ready profiteer in the charter biz.
Creamer graduated from Brigham Young with a BA in Spanish back in 1995. There's a six-year gap in his LinkedIn CV, but in 2001 he landed on a pair of big ideas, launching Primavera Online School and Strongmind (which for some of us may have unfortunate echoes of classic Homestar Runner).
Primavera is the cyber charter; Strongmind is the company that provides the actual education stuff. Primavera, owned by Creamer, collects that tuition payments for the students, then pays Strongmind, owned by Creamer (who is apparently the only shareholder), to provide the instructional programs. This is what we call a "related party transaction," and Arizona is a wild west playground for such shenanigans. A 2017 report from the Grand Canyon Institute found that 77% of Arizona's charter schools operate with related party transactions. It's supposed to be "efficient" and if your goal is to efficiently enrich the folks running these operations, well, then, sure. Maybe you imagine guys like Creamer having tough negotiation sessions with himself ("I'm not going to buy this service from me unless I can offer myself a 20% cut in costs").
A decade after launching his con-joined business children, Creamer did go back to school to the Thunderbird School of Global Management (ASU) and Harvard Business School Executive Education.
Grand Canyon Institute gave Creamer his own report last year, explaining just how complicated this self-enrichment shell game can become.
Damian Creamer. an entrepreneur, oversees and profits from multiple entities, Primavera online charter school, a.k.a. American Virtual LLC, and operates under the for profit Management Group American Virtual, LLC, StrongMind, the software entity that he contracts with, and Verona Learning Partnership which was built on the nonprofit assets built by Primavera and now has Valor Preparatory Academy charter school under its umbrella. StrongMind even has another LLC in the Philippines.
Creamer also gets to play educational expert. Here he is opining about "learning science" with some great argle bargle like
At the heart of this is StrongMind Intelligence, a foundational infrastructure layer that Creamer and his team are developing to enable learning systems to operate in accordance with learning science. “StrongMind Intelligence is not a feature. It is not a chatbot,” he explains. “It is the intelligence layer that models the learner continuously and supports real-time adaptation.”
Or this glowing interview on IdeaMensch with the "visionary education entrepreneur" prasising how "His work is grounded in the belief that autonomy, competence, and connection are essential psychological nutrients for learning, and that technology—when designed ethically and intentionally—can amplify, not replace, human impact."
In several interviews Creamer talks about how he makes all important decisions by 2 PM. He is just an action guy-- this next bit turns up in more than one Creamer interview:
Ideas are easy. Execution is everything. I bring ideas to life by pressure-testing them early and grounding them in purpose. If an idea doesn’t clearly improve learning, empower people, or move the mission forward, it doesn’t make the cut. Once the “why” is solid, I focus on the simplest possible version that can create real momentum. From there, it’s about getting the right people in the room—product, engineering, UI/UX, learning, marketing, operations—and creating shared ownership. The best ideas get better when they’re challenged.
I like to move quickly, but not recklessly. I believe in shipping, learning, and iterating. Progress beats perfection every time. We launch, we listen, we adjust and we keep moving.
He is just loaded with tech bro bromides. He likes to stay "ruthless about priorities and intentional about focus." He stays productive "when I'm in flow and designing my environment to support it." His early career failure? "Not trusting myself to make decisions." He screwed up by listening to other people. He likes to listen to Joe Rogan.
And he's right there with the AI revolution. ChatGPT is his "thinking partner," and he's counting on agentic AI to help keep his learning software focused and adaptive. There is so much more, although none of it is about the actual nuts and bolts of education. Which is a real choice, given that cyber charters perform so poorly that even charter fans like the Fordham Institution scold them.
The nuts and bolts of making money, however, are well addressed by Creamer. According to a 2025 report from Grand Canyon Institute by Dave Wells and Curtis Cardine. Some of their findings are stunning.
Arizona charter schools get a whopping 85% to 95% of the funding that brick and mortar charters get, and yet cyber charters, including the Arizona variety, get much worse results than brick and mortar schools. Primavera was great at hanging onto money; by 2015, they had accumulated over $45 million in assets.
At the same time, Primavera was spending millions on curriculum, software and support purchased from Strongmind. Creamer has been passing a lot of money between his left and right hands.
Transitioning from non-profit to for-profit involved all sorts of new entities that appear to be simply Creamer putting on a variety of party masks. In the meantime, Grand Canyon computes that Creamer accumulated over $75 million in profits.
Meanwhile, the investigative team with Craig Harris at 12News found other ways that Creamer has been raking in the money. They found that 78% of all taxpayer dollars that went to Primavera went to "management." Meanwhile, there's a big fat "stockholder equity fund" with around $10 million parked in it-- that fund benefits "exactly one person: Damian Creamer." Since 2017, 12News computes that Cramer has paid himself $24 million. He did, however, managed to give some hefty gifts to Congressman Andy Biggs and State Senate President Warren Peterson, who have been vocal defenders of Primavera.
But, hey-- if Creamer can actually deliver on all his talk about brilliantly leading to awesome conclusions, maybe he's worth all that money. So, is Primavera accomplishing great educational achievements with its students?
No. No, it is not.
Primavera is in the news these days because State Superintendent Tom Horne just rescued Creamer from the Arizona State Charter Board, which was about to shut Primavera down based on three straight years of a D grade. Creamer started laying folks off in anticipation of the impending charter revocation. Not that Creamer didn't have a Plan B-- Primavera can just switch to a private school and cash in on Arzona's taxpayer-funded school voucher program. They'll even give out free laptops, and no state tests to take, either!
The state board started the process of shutting Primavera down in March of 2025, and they were just about there when Creamer got Horne to back his "administrative error" argument. Which said that the school should have been judged as an "alternative school" rather than a "traditional" one. The school had been rated as an alternative school for many (but not all) years since the designation was created in 2012. Creamer says he made a mistake and didn't catch it because he was busy caring for his wife, and also COVID.
I am wondering why Arizona has different standards for "alternative schools." Arizona defines such schools as those that "serve specific populations of at-risk students" or a student who "is unable to profit from a traditional school setting" and I guess the idea here is that alternative schools are expected to fail, so we'll lower the bar for them so that their failure is less obvious on paper. But if alternative schools are designed to create success in ways that traditional schools don't, that seems different than just saying "this is a school for students who probably won't succeed."
"We have the students who are already in academic trouble" is the common refrain of cyber charters, and it's a legitimate observation (though arguably less so since COVID drove some traditionally successful students into cyber settings), but that's the business you're in, so shouldn't you be better at it? Primavera has been at this for twenty-five years-- shouldn't they have figured out how to do better than the same failure rate that a traditional public school would experience with these students? Especially as I am led to believe, by cyber charter teachers who would rather not go on the record, that cybers work hard to cook the books for that special smell of success.
Oh well. Horne has retroactively declared Primavera an alternative school for the years its performance was subpar, and now that same performance is hunky dory. The state charter board is pissed, but Creamer is still rich and well-connected. Just another day in Arizona.
Monday, April 13, 2026
AFT Shares Bad AI Advice
AFT made plenty of folks sad when they decided to jump on the AI bandwagon last year (kind of reminds me of the days they were resolutely on the wrong side of Common Core). They haven't shown any signs of slowing their enthusiasm, with items like this puff piece from the AFT site about "Harnessing the nest of AI," which is right up there with "Embracing the advantages of cholera."
In this piece, three teachers share some of their "tips for saving time and boosting creativity" with AI, and oh boy.
The three teachers have 23, 6 and 30 years of experience. They teach K, 4th and 5th grade special ed, and math. I'm not going to call them out by name because they are out there trying to do the work, and teachers take enough crap for doing that, anyway. But I do want to highlight some of these highly dubious ideas.
LV regularly uses "ChatGPT to create curriculum and lessons, as well as to differentiate lessons." And while "uses" can mean many things here, I cannot say hard enough that there is no chatbot that knows more about content or instruction than a teacher does. None. Because a chatbot doesn't "know" anything. It doesn't understand the content, doesn't know what would be the best instructional approach, doesn't know anything about bridging information and young human brains. Lesson planning is the perfect time to conceptualize chatbots like this-- If you ask it to write a lesson plan about the Civil War, it processes that as "what would a Civil War lesson plan look like?" It can create something that looks like a sort of average of every lesson plan that is has been trained on, but it knows nothing about good or bad instructional design, and it is making up everything it says about the content (some of it will be accurate, some of it won't, but all of it is made up).
LV also uses Google's GEM tool, which is basically a tool that lets you set up your own chatbot which only accesses what you have fed it. LV is the math teacher, and I think that matters a lot here. They say the GEM can be "limited" to provide hints for the next step rather than the answer, which strikes me as more functional for solving an equation than exploring themes in Song of Solomon.
CS uses AI for small tasks, including differentiation, building rubrics, and to "refine the wording" on IEPs. And to make substitute plans. Differentiation comes up a lot, and I can see the appeal, but the time it takes to really, precisely prompt the bot strikes me as canceling out the time saved. If you are letting the bot determine what the differentiation should be, that's malpractice.
EL is in a school district that adopted Copilot as its "AI platform," which is its own kind of dopey idea. But this teacher thinks it's cool for creating games and scavenger hunts. And this comment --
As a veteran teacher, it’s easy to teach the same thing over and over again; AI is helping me get outside of my comfort zone and do some different things with the kids.
If you only get outside your comfort zone because some bot has made it super easy, have you really gotten outside of your comfort zone. I try not to be too judgy (just judgy enough) but I really do judge people who can't even work up the ambition to scroll down the search engine page past the often-wrong AI results to see search results. Is Googling for lesson ideas (which was never a great approach) really too hard for some folks now?
But that's not as alarming as this quote about a colleague who is "not very good with technology" but just "bloomed" with ChatGPT:
He became interested in having it generate passages for his students to read and then started adding topics that they like, such as dinosaurs and Power Rangers. Now these AI passages are a reward in his classroom—when kids complete their work, they can ask for a personalized passage. One child asked for a story about playing soccer with the Argentine star Lionel Messi.
Just stop it. Stop. It. Is he checking every one of these for accuracy? Because I'm betting a teacher who doesn't have the time to hunt down real pieces of writing by live human authors also doesn't have the time to make sure some child isn't getting a "bonus" reading about how dinosaurs used to help cavemen work at Mr. Slate's gravel pit. There are so many bad messages here, leading with the devaluing of human writing. Just stop!
LV uses a GEM to help students edit an end-or-semester project, and that has led to a concern that students "may start to optimize their writing to please AI instead of writing for a human reader." You think? Of course they will. LV has a solution-- "I’m trying to instruct the Gems to give objective, rubric-based feedback without altering the students’ voice, tone, or style. I want AI to support their thinking and not reshape their writing." Good luck with that, given that the bot is not well-equipped to identify voice, tone, or style, let alone preserve it.
And if it seems as if writing the instructions for a GEM would be rather intricate and time-consuming, well, can you guess how LV solved that? But having ChatGPT do it.
All three use AI to communicate with parents, and some of what they have to say is surreal, like EL explaining that when they're tired and frustrated, the bot "helps me send notes to families about behavior challenges that are clear and kind." I don't know what to do with the notion that a human needs a bot to help them be more human, but I do not how I would feel as a parent if I were getting notes from a bot instead of my child's actual teacher (the answer is "pissy.") EL also uses AI to generate activities for families to use at home.
The "interviewer" does ask the three if they have concerns. EL is concerned that middle and high school students use it too much, to the detriment of their thinking, but she doesn't have those concerns as a kindergarten teacher, and I am wondering if her students see her having AI do parts of her job for her, because that might matter. And she's sure that AI won't replace her, because AI can't hug five-year-olds or meet their social and emotional needs. Sigh. First, if you think that's the only thing AI can't do, you need to rethink what you bring to the job. Second, if that's all you do that AI can't, you can in fact be replaced with an AI augmented with a minimum-wage aid who handles the hugging and social-emotional stuff.
LV correctly notes that AI is actually worse than plagiarism for students because AI can do the whole job without students even glancing at the work. AI can oversimplify and push formulaic patterns. "Students miss out not only on building knowledge but also on developing curiosity and their voice." LV makes students do handwritten assignments twice a month for an "authentic picture."
CS notes concerns about environmental impact of AI and replacing human joy, like art. CS calls these "on a personal note" and I am wondering why that's not a professional note. Fears about student learning are valid "But the more I use it, the more I realize that if educators don’t know how to use it, then we can’t help our students learn to use it responsibly." I am imagining a high school coach explaining, "Yes, I use steroids, because how else can I help my students learn how to use steroids responsibly."
And language like this really concerns me:
My last thought for my fellow educators is that getting started with AI is a lot like having a conversation with a new colleague. You introduce yourself and your goals, and it provides suggestions—sometimes good, sometimes bad. But unlike a colleague, it has no feelings, so I can say plainly that I like one section of a lesson plan but not another. Plus, it works instantly; I can provide a critique and get a revision immediately. The key for me has been treating AI as a partner in the creative and planning process, not a replacement for my judgment.
No no no. AI is not a partner, not a colleague, not a thing you can have a conversation with. It's a tool.
Look, I get the need for finding more time? I really do. One of my most widely-read pieces was about exactly that. But I am suspicious of AI times savings, given the amount of time needed to craft a prompt and run the result through multiple revisions, I'm unconvinced.
Nor am I convinced that getting into a do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do situation with students will end well. "Today, I had AI generate a lesson plan so that you can learn to not use AI to just do your work," is going to be a hard sell. And this line from CS--
As professionals, we use AI to save time and enhance our work—but we’re still doing the thinking and using a mix of resources. Too many students are using AI to think and do their work for them.
You can tell yourself that, but I'm not so sure. Yes, AI is worse for someone with no background of knowledge at all, but how many teaching muscles are you not using when you use AI to take care of all these various functions? Maybe you're still doing some of the thinking, but you definitely aren't doing as much as when you hammered out lesson plans by yourself.
There are some worthwhile cautions folded in this AFT puff piece. There are plenty of professional conversations to be had (with other humans) about these issues, but when they come wrapped in big-tech-financed AFT packaging, they aren't a conversation-- they're an advertisement, and an advertisement designed to swoop us right past the whole Should We Do This At All question. I expect better from teh second-largest teacher union in the country.
Sunday, April 12, 2026
Dollars And Cents And AI And Sense
A few weeks back, I wrote a piece for the Bucks County Beacon in which I suggested some questions that you should ask your local district when they start making noises about incorporating AI into your district's schools. But I realized afterwards that I left a big question out, so I'd like to amend that earlier piece right here.
How committed is your district to paying the actual price?
This hit me in the midst of one of those on line conversations in which a journalist tried to explain that she doesn't use AI for, you know, the important parts of the writing, but just for things like research and fact-checking and proof-reading and editing. I suggested that this seemed like a bad idea, that AI was not particularly good at any of those things, and then I heard, from many posters, a new counter-argument.
I'm thinking of 2023 AI. The new, advanced super-duper bots are so much better. I needed to get my head out of the old, free bots.
The AI that just anyone can use, they seemed to be admitting, is inadequate. You have to step up to get the good stuff.
Now, I'm inclined to disbelieve assertions that newer, better AI can do human thinky stuff. But let's pretend the newer better AI is really newer and better in ways that matter.
This is, of course, a well-established computer tech model. You can have the free version, but it's, you know, broken. Here's a cool new app that will only work, sort of, for the 90 minute trial period. Here's a game that is really an ad delivery system. Here's photo editing software with no features.
It's a relatively new invention, this model. It used to be unimaginable that a dealership would sell you a new car that had some cool features that are broken until you pay extra to unlock them. Imagine buying a house and then discovering that none of the doors actually work (unless you hire some carpenters to come in and fix them).
Or, in a school setting, imagine buying a new set of textbooks, then discovering upon delivery that they are all missing several chapters, which you can purchase from the publisher for an extra fee.
So here's what you need to know from your district. When the super-cool features that sold your superintendent or tech procurement committee on this AI whiz-bangery in the first place, is your district committed to paying the new fees. When the teachers who are supposed to actually use this AI tool discover that real utility comes with an extra cost, will the district cough up the money? Or is the district's expectation that teachers will somehow make use of a piece of broken software?
Or will wealthy districts get the fully unlocked programs, while poorer districts will have to limp along with the demo model?
And when this year's model is supplanted by next year's hot new thing, will the district be committing to throwing more money at it? And what other funding will they cut in the district to get the money to feed their new AI habit? Because once FOMO gets in your blood, it's hard to kick the habit, and you can bet that vendors will keep right on warning that schools dare not get left behind by the newest inevitable shiny thing of tomorrow.
So that's the other question to ask your district when they start gazing longingly at AI-- just how far are they willing to go, and do they intend to keep shoveling money into the program, or will they ask teachers to get on the cutting edge with the broken version of last-year's already-cooling-off Hot New Thing.
Mind you, that's not the only question to ask (there are more here), but you cannot get a real answer to "What do we expect to actually get out of this, and is it worth the cost" if you don't take an honest look at the cost. Because whatever your district thinks the cost is, it's way more than that.






