In the Age of AI, What Must Remain Sacred in Education?

By Leticia Daza

Deputy Superintendent of Teaching and Learning - Pan American School of Bahia-Brazil

When I first received the syllabus for my final-year systems engineering course, I had to read it twice. "Artificial Intelligence" written in bold, futuristic font—at least that's how I interpreted it, as if we were about to build a Terminator or maybe even an Iron Man suit. It was a required course for all students, no matter the specialization. Mine leaned toward auditing systems, not sentient robots. Still, I was intrigued.

Our professor introduced us to speech recognition prototypes and diagnostic simulations—basic concepts that opened a world of possibilities. I left that class with one burning question: What might come next?

More than 20 years later, I understand why that course was required. The same logic, adaptability, and predictive capabilities I encountered in that class have transformed our schools: new tools, systems, and methods designed to improve efficiency. As a school leader today, I embrace AI—not with fear, but with curiosity and purpose. I'm amazed by how much time AI can save, how it can sharpen our decisions, and how it can amplify what matters. I've seen it simplify data analysis, personalize instruction, make operational tasks faster and more accurate, and so on. It's like gaining back hours we could use for more meaningful teaching, student connection, and growth. But while AI brings incredible tools, it can never replace what lies at the heart of education. We cannot sacrifice humans for efficiency.

I saw a demo of an AI-enhanced teacher evaluation system in one professional learning session. The observer entered the classroom and took notes based on an automated rubric, and by the time he reached the door, the teacher had already received an email with feedback. Systematic. Fast. Precise. I couldn't help but marvel. And yet—I thought—where was the relational moment? The human connection? I know that for me, real growth happens in that face-to-face conversation where empathy, nuance, and encouragement breathe life into the feedback. The AI version felt...incomplete. This experience underscored the larger question: What is essential in education that AI cannot replicate? The human element, connection, and support from these moments of real interaction are irreplaceable.

Recently, I encountered the thoughtful framework of The 12 Big Questions Schools Must Answer to Imagine Irresistible Futures (Tavangar & Richardson, 2025). For good reason, the authors placed the question 'What is sacred?' at the forefront. It's deceptively simple, yet presents a profound challenge that schools today must grapple with. 

They write:

"The ongoing disruptions in the world are forcing us to make important choices. Despite the seemingly never-ending stream of tools, programs, and methods being offered as 'solutions' to what's broken in education, pause to consider: What are the aspects of school that we want to preserve… What is at the core of our purpose as schools in the world today? In other words, what matters most?" (Tavangar & Richardson, 2025, p. 10)

That question didn't just land—it settled into my thinking like an anchor. It reminded me that while AI can enhance how we teach, assess, or organize, the why behind our work must stay rooted in human connection. It's easy to get swept up in innovation, but the sacred cannot be outsourced or automated. Although this question is not exclusive to AI, it's especially powerful when reflecting on technology's role in education today.

John Hattie's research (2023) underscores that relationships are among the most impactful factors in student achievement. While AI can save us time, it cannot replace the spark of transformation that comes from a teacher's genuine care and belief in their students. That human connection? It's sacred. It lies at the heart of what makes education meaningful—a vital thread we must preserve, even as we integrate new technologies.

Here are just a few reminders of what technology can't replicate:

• AI can write policies. But it can't write trust.

• AI can track data. But it can't track how a student feels.

• AI can suggest the next steps. But it can't hold a hand through failure.

• AI might be able to grade essays, but it can't see a student's face when they realize they finally got the concept. You can't download that into a machine... yet! And honestly, I hope we never can.

In a world where we are constantly bombarded with new technologies and evolving educational practices, pushing forward without reflecting on what truly matters in our work can be tempting. Yet, asking What is sacred?, allows us to step back, pause, and measure where we stand. It's like reading a book, then suddenly stopping, closing the pages—not because the story is over, but because the pause holds the most profound meaning. As Julio Cortázar (1963) beautifully expressed in Rayuela (Hopscotch): "And in the end, everything that matters happens in the interludes." The space between the rush of information, the moments of silence, and reflection is where we find the essence of what truly matters.

I have many questions, but these are the ones I return to most often:

• What is truly irreplaceable in the educational experience for our students?

• How do we ensure that AI enhances students' learning, not replace the human connection they need?

• Are we teaching students how to use tools—or to use them with intention and insight?

• What kind of humans are we hoping our learners will become?

This question—What is sacred?—is more than a prompt; it invites us to reflect on our mission, vision, and core values. At its core, our 'why'—the heart of our purpose—must guide us through this transformative journey. It's a conversation we must start with our school community. 

We must stay grounded in what truly matters, navigating the currents of change with unwavering clarity—like a ship charting its course, steadfast despite the storms.\

About the Author:

Leticia Daza is an experienced educator and international school leader with over 25 years in education, including more than 15 years in international settings. Raised as a Third Culture Kid, she has a global perspective and deep cultural understanding. Her professional journey spans college-level instruction, classroom teaching, and various leadership roles within international schools. Now in her sixth year at the Pan American School of Bahia (PASB) in Brazil, she has held several leadership positions and is currently the Deputy Superintendent for Teaching and Learning. A lifelong learner, Leticia strongly believes that every individual can learn and has the right to do so. She is passionate about empowering teachers and students to grow, thrive, and succeed in an inclusive and supportive environment.