AI's Role in Scaffolding Learning

I wrestle with the role of AI in learning. There is no IF; there is a role.

Education is a learning experience that scaffolds both academic and emotional processes, all of which begins before birth. In this way, both nature and nurture creates a person’s unique Potential.

So, while this post is specifically addressing higher education, it outlines how I educated my young sons through reverse engineering, using mostly what was freely available.

So, let’s start there, with a story that highlights how easy it is to incorporate reverse engineering far earlier than higher education in a child’s learning.

Afterwards, with that story in mind, we’ll consider how AI can or will impact this learning, especially for the youngest Generation, Gen Beta, and their older contemporaries, Gen Alpha.

We begin with a mother tolerant of messes- that’s me.

I wasn’t always that way. As an introverted young girl, I fastidiously organized my drawers, and even alphabetized the books on my bookshelf. Awaiting the birth of my first son, his organized set of drawers held baby sleepers arranged in ascending chronological months. It even stayed that way after he was born, well, initially

.

But raising five sons dramatically changed those priorities. Learning and leaning into their emotional needs, unique personalities, and special interests took precedence over neatly folded clothing. Which is why, several years into parenting a houseful of busy boys, I immediately responded to my six-year-old son’s high-pitched command from the backseat of our car.

Stop! Mom!
Look!There!

Go over there!

We were on our way home from our weekly trek to the library, each child holding a stuffed bag with books specific to their interests.

I stopped beside a trash can, a woodpile, and a cardboard box.

Two young boys bounced out, looked inside the box, and exclaimed, “Whoa! Look at these! Let’s take it,” before chucking it into my nearly full trunk of similar such boxes.

Take what, you ask? I'll get to that in a moment.

Arriving home, their once-appreciated library books were haphazardly discarded. Time for them, later. Far more interesting things awaited in those multiple boxes yet to be unloaded from the car trunk.

Now, my transition from neatly organized drawers and a clutter-free home to a collector of discarded items in cardboard boxes began innocuous enough.

An environmentalist from my youth, I am an ardent follower of the motto: reduce, reuse, recycle, repurpose. I saved my recyclables to cart to a recycling plant years before blue boxes graced our doorsteps. So, our city’s annual clean-up week, when homeowners discard unwanted items without a dumping fee, became a scavenger hunt with my sons to repurpose discards. In our search for reusable materials, we found boards to repair a friend's fence, clean sand for the children’s sandbox, snow tires for my car, and one time, a 24-foot circular trampoline in pristine condition.

However, lest you are imagining us fingering through leftover pizza, moldy yogurt, or slimy meat, I hasten to inform you that we never touched reeking real garbage. Thoughtfully, homeowners placed their reusable items like technology, tools, and even books inside a curb side box. One week, we scored stunning finds- expensive rollerblades just the right size, beside weights and a full weight bench.

Another score was a tattered oversized suitcase. One son’s eyes lit with excitement as he carefully unzipped it and beheld what lay inside—Legos!

But amongst these useful discards, there was plenty of what, at first, I thought were worthless older technology: machines, computers or non-working household items like blenders. Ah, but not worthless to my lads. Here was their chance to see for themselves what was inside those machines. Thus began the influx of cardboard boxes cluttering my trunk, and the adventure of learning through dismantling and reverse engineering.

Boys enthusiastically lugged those hefty boxes from the car trunk to the carport, and from the carport to the basement playroom. That space, used reserved as a soccer field during rainy days, became partitioned into a Lego building centre and a science hub.

Hunkering down initially with only their screwdrivers and pliers, the unloaded items were categorized by the boys’ discerning experienced eyes. A tape machine might potentially still be working, simply replaced by current technology. Other items failed due to a manufacturer’s planned obsolescence. These discarded machines became an unexpected source of incredible learning. Chattering excited voices floated upstairs from my basement, as items were batched into marked containers of usable parts. A veritable tech store evolved within the tech lab.

Library books packed with visuals of what's inside technology began to fill their library bags far more than what those Berenstain Bears were up to now. The thrill of gaining mechanical ability soon transitioned into the pertinent question:

Can we repair it?

Useless machines were smashed—an exhilarating task—resulting in bagged leftover switches, relays, power supplies, cords, and tubes from multiple blenders, CD machines, radios, and vacuums. All were kept handy for potential reuse in repair or to create original machinery.

Years earlier, at a family dinner, everyone had been surprised when my middle child at three years old found a screwdriver at grandma’s house and unscrewed several dining room chairs, just before dinner. But, several years later, no one even blinked when the youngest at three years old put together his new birthday tricycle, aided by a battery-powered screwdriver.

All their vibrant youthful energy fuelled their ceaseless curiosity. It ultimately led to a class taught by my eleven- and ten-year-old boys to their peers on—you guessed it—understanding what’s inside technology. The formal class was a natural progression from the impromptu sessions with the neighborhood boys who frequented the science lab in our backyard and basement. With sufficient materials for everyone to have their own machine to take apart, the class was wildly successful.

You might wonder:

Was it worth the inquisitive stares of bystanders when boys bounded out of the car to retrieve dumped items or the ceaseless messes and clutter of piled high boxes of blenders, lamps, CD players, Game Boys, cell phones, broken Nintendo consoles, and all their parts in my covered carport?

Consider this.

Within this shared experience, each child heightened their personal learning scaffolding. One designed new things from parts, one used a book and saved parts to create a submersible, and one said – hey ,why don’t we teach this to other kids our age, and they did. Each child took what was offered, and engaged with it their way. Their individual self-drive curiosity moved each to create their learning scaffolding tailored to their individual tastes and potential.

As each moved to adulthood, they continued to stretch towards their potential, enhancing and using every learning experience to scaffold personal knowledge.

The son who gravitated to computer dismantling, reverse engineering and making new computers became a software engineer.

The son who re-engineered materials to create innovative working machines is becoming an engineer.

The son who designed the peer led class became a negotiator known for big picture business strategies.

Exploiting dumped junk for mechanical research was not unlike unearthing an archaeological dig. All that ‘junk’ motivated the young explorers to carefully excavate their wonders, and to reach ever closer to their potential.

So, to answer the question - yes, it was worth it!

Let's address the original question :

How do we address this kind of learning exploration in this Age of AI?

Will these sons’ children become full of curiosity for learning in the same way?

Can AI become a worthy scaffolding learning tool to achieve their potential?

Or will AI become a tool that damps their unique potential?

I’d love to hear your thoughts.

to be continued