I’ve always been ready to try what’s new in my field. When I attend a course, a conference, or a webinar, if I see something new, I want to try it immediately. It’s something I truly enjoy. I feel excited—I can’t stop myself.
That’s how I started blogging and using Web 2.0 tools. Creating lessons was fun, and helping my students create with these tools was even more fun. The other day, I was reading my old posts and realized that most of the things I created no longer exist. The websites are gone, or they’ve become paid services, so the tools themselves are no longer available.
At the time, we were advocating how revolutionary these tools were—how they could turn passive readers into active creators. We believed that learning to use them would prepare students for a technology-enhanced future. However, the hype didn’t last. The tools couldn’t remain free, schools and teachers couldn’t afford the paid versions, and gradually, many disappeared or limited their access. As a result, the motivation to build lessons around them faded.
When AI became part of our lives, I felt that same excitement again. I tried to integrate it into my teaching, and it was fun. It was exciting to see how, with a well-written prompt, you could generate a reading text with target vocabulary for your students. Suddenly, you had an assistant for brainstorming, a helper to review student essays, and even a personal proofreader.
But then something changed.
I started seeing AI-generated infographics, posts filled with emojis, repeated patterns of punctuation, images, even videos on LinkedIn, Instagram, and Facebook. What once felt exciting started to feel overwhelming. At times, I catch myself wondering whether I’m reading something written by a person or generated by AI and I find myself skipping those posts.
Instead of using AI sensibly, it feels like we’re beginning to overuse it. This level of use is becoming overwhelming and uncomfortable. There may be many reasons for this. One of them could be that social media posts now heavily rely on AI-generated images. They are easy and cost-effective, but when everything starts to look the same, it becomes harder to stand out.
Now, I’m deliberately choosing to reduce how much I use AI. I’m happy to have it as a proofreader or a brainstorming companion, but I don’t want it to create for me. These days, my prompts usually look like this:
“Please proofread this. Correct any typos and punctuation mistakes. Check for unnatural grammar or vocabulary. Don’t change my voice. Don’t rewrite it for me.”
Maybe the real skill now is not just using AI but knowing how to use it or when to stop.