“If AI can do what we’ve always done, then we must do what only humans can.”

A Threat on the Horizon

Since AI was first introduced to educators, the first and most glaring concern was that students would use it to cheat. Every writing assignment could easily be written by ChatGPT and it could be done in a matter of seconds without any knowledge of the topic being written. How on Earth are we supposed to combat this impending doom? The first knee-jerk response was to AI proof our classes. Every student must hand-write everything and everything must be done in the classroom. We looked at controlling students instead of adjusting assignments or identifying the purpose of the assignment. 

Last spring, I began to show students how AI could amplify what they were writing in class. Some students had already been using AI to write for them, and it was easy to tell who was using it and who wasn’t. I didn’t want them to see AI as a way to get out of doing the assigned work, but I wanted them to see how it could be used to refine what they had written. 

So instead of banning the use of AI, I asked students to hand write their first draft. Then I had them type that written piece into a SchoolAI chatbot that I had designed to provide feedback. The students used the feedback to revise their writing. They then asked the AI to set a goal for them based on their original writing. The students then had to write that goal at the top of their next piece of writing.  This method of using AI reframed everything. AI wasn’t the threat, it was the invitation.

In a world where AI can outpace, outproduce, and out-optimize the traditional functions of a classroom, one model remains deeply human: Project-Based Learning (PBL). It isn’t just a method anymore, it’s the last stand for authentic, relevant, and meaningful learning in a system rapidly evolving beyond its old structures.

But let’s be clear: PBL isn’t unaffected by AI. Traditional, mastery-based, inquiry-driven, every model, every single one, must shift. Because the one constant is this: the world our students are entering no longer values what schools were originally designed to deliver. It doesn’t reward memorization. It doesn’t hire for quiet compliance. It doesn’t promote those who wait to be told what to do. So we have a choice: evolve our models to match the reality our students will face, or keep preparing them for a world that no longer exists.

PBL doesn’t ask, “How well did you learn the material?” It asks, “What can you do with what you’ve learned?” In a world where AI handles the knowing, PBL centers the doing, and that is where human growth lives.

And if we don’t ask what needs to change, if we don’t design something new, our replacement will.

The Crisis of Relevance

For decades, schools have operated on the assumption that the teacher is the keeper of knowledge, and the classroom is where students go to receive it. That model is now fully obsolete. AI can deliver content more efficiently, adaptively, and precisely than any human. Students know it. So do parents. And increasingly, so do school systems.

If education doesn’t shift from knowledge delivery to experience design, we risk losing our students to a world that feels far more engaging, responsive, and purposeful outside the school walls. Ask yourself, what is so much more engaging about your student’s phone than your lesson? Your student’s phone is personalized, rewards curiosity immediately, it is immersive and interactive with a community outside of the classroom, it respects their agency, and it is centered around their interests. 

PBL: The Most Human Model

We must audit our day and ask the question, what can AI do better, faster, and more efficiently than I do, and then audit your students’ day based on the same premise. Artificial Intelligence can be used to plan out lessons (especially when you get into a rut and cannot see a different approach to a lesson), to create slides, podcasts, guided notes, and even video instruction. It can analyze data and provide insight into how to adjust lessons to better meet the needs of students. It can create code for games, quizzes, test questions, and develop handouts. It can write emails and parent newsletters. Students can use it to understand classroom concepts more thoroughly or have things explained in a way that makes sense to them. It can provide feedback immediately for students, and it can help them think through how to approach a problem. Students can use Ai to design study tools for upcoming assessments, and they can use it to help set goals for themselves.

So why is PBL so important in an AI ecosystem that can do all of those things? PBL thrives not because it resists AI, but because it embraces what AI can’t do:

• Cultivate curiosity
• Nurture collaboration
• Fuel passion
• Deepen identity and belonging
• Develop a sense of pride

In a PBL classroom, students don’t just learn, they make, design, present, debate, fail, and grow. They learn to navigate complexity, not just recall facts. AI can support all of that, but it can’t replace the human experience of learning through meaningful work.

PBL offers what students need most now: agency, voice, and purpose.

The Role of the Teacher in a PBL World

In this new landscape, the teacher is no longer a content gatekeeper. They are:

• Architects of learning experiences
• Mentors of character and identity
• Designers of community and culture
• Coaches of thinking, reflection, and iteration

This is especially true in PBL. Teachers guide students in the work of meaning-making, something AI will never replicate.

What This Means If You’re Feeling Overwhelmed

If you’re thinking:

• “I don’t even have time to learn AI tools, let alone redesign my classroom.”
• “This is just another initiative that’ll fade out.”
• “My district hasn’t provided any training—I don’t know where to start.”

You’re not alone. But here’s the truth:

The future isn’t waiting for professional development days. The shift is already happening, with or without permission.

Start small:

• Ask how AI can take something off your plate.
• Design one project that asks students to create for a real audience.
• Use reflection as a core routine, not an end-of-unit activity.

And most importantly:

Redefine your role. Not as the answer-giver, but as the designer of questions worth answering.

Yeah, but…

“Won’t students just cheat more with AI?”
They already can. But by designing work that asks for voice, revision, process, and purpose, AI becomes a tool, not a shortcut.

“What if I don’t have time to learn all this?”
You don’t need to master AI—you just need to identify where it can give you time back. Start with one task.

“Is this just another fad?”
Unlike past tech waves, AI is not a tool, it’s a shift. Ignoring it won’t slow it down.

“My school doesn’t allow any AI use.”

Then start by using it yourself. Use AI to reduce your own prep time, write parent emails, summarize articles, or brainstorm ways to differentiate. You don’t need student access to begin shifting your mindset and reclaiming your time.

Eventually, you’ll be positioned as the educator who’s already thinking ahead, so when the door opens (and it will), you’re ready to lead.

Audit to Innovate: Where Can AI Help You Reclaim Purpose?

For Teachers:

Take 10 minutes and audit your day. Ask:

• What do I do out of habit that AI could do faster or better?
• What tasks keep me from connecting deeply with students?
• Where am I spending time on logistics instead of learning?

Then ask:

• What would I do with that reclaimed time?
• What human-centered part of teaching have I been forced to sacrifice?

For Students:

Audit their day. Ask them:

• Where do you feel stuck, bored, or lost?
• What could AI help you do—summarize, scaffold, suggest—so you can spend more time creating, collaborating, and reflecting?
• Where do you need more time to think deeply or work with others?

These questions shift the conversation from fear to agency—for both you and your students.

A Practical Planning Timeline: The 18-Month Shift

The pace at which AI is advancing means that your classroom won’t be affected by AI in years to come. Rather it is knocking on your door now, it will be pounding on your door demanding to be let in within 9 months, and it will break down the door within 18 months. That isn’t meant to scare you, but it is your call to action that you need to begin the transition NOW so that you can lead others through what can be a very uncertain time.

Consider segmenting your transition into manageable phases:

• 3 Months: Identify 1–2 AI tools and one unit or project to redesign. Start the audit process.
• 6 Months: Embed AI in student workflows. Use it to enhance feedback, research, and reflection. Observe how it changes classroom flow.
• 9 Months: Redesign assessments to focus on thinking and process. Collaborate with students on rubrics and goals.
• 12 Months: Shift classroom norms. Make self-direction, inquiry, and collaboration central habits.
• 15 Months: Begin to mentor others. Share what’s working. Lead school-wide or team-based conversations.
• 18 Months: Be the example of what’s possible. A classroom not just adjusted for AI, but transformed by a deeper human purpose.

Final Word

PBL isn’t a trend, it’s a response to a world that no longer rewards passive learning or memorization. It is the most resilient, adaptable, and human model we have. But every classroom, regardless of philosophy, can shift toward something more purposeful, more personal, and more future-ready.

Because in the end, the goal isn’t to add AI to education. It’s to keep education worth showing up for.

And PBL might just be our last stand to make that happen. We can’t outpace AI. But we can out-care it, out-question it, and out-human it.

And in that space, where curiosity meets complexity, Project-Based Learning isn’t just relevant.

It’s essential.

Ready to start the shift? Audit your day. Invite students to do the same. Ask better questions. And start building something worth keeping.