Last Saturday morning, I got up, filled my mug with coffee and set off to walk around the school block to visit classrooms. For those readers not familiar with The Grove… our kids have classes on Saturdays at Lakefield College School. Saturday is typically the only day that I’m not jammed in meetings, so if I am on campus, I love to wander.
Saturday morning is like any other morning, except we start a little later; so by 9:30 our students and staff are in their spaces getting down to work. Music classes are tuning instruments, French classes are settling into projects, and math classes are splitting into groups around the white boards… It’s Saturday, and everyone is engaging in class, and our community is up and running.
What I didn’t see on this particular morning was an OE class. OE stands for Outdoor Education, and all of our grade nines are required to take this class, and a majority of them carry this class through to Grade 12. On most days, including a day when it is -20C, students are outside. Lately, I’ve watched them learning to cross-country ski from my office window. Nothing makes me happier than seeing teens outdoors, laughing and active together.
The other thing I didn’t see was a single cell phone. Our school banned cell phones during the school day, and while I know it can be a challenge for teens, I remain passionate about the benefits of a phone-free day, and I am proud of their understanding and commitment. What I hear from our staff is that more students are spending their free time in the halls talking and laughing together.
What I did see on Saturday filled me with gratitude for our staff and our students–they are the best of what teaching and learning should be.
Teachers often approach their Saturday classes differently. Our schedule through the week prioritises focus by having students in only three classes a day, but Saturday has everyone paying attention to one subject alone. It can be a good day to try something special. I saw lots of snacks in class on Saturday. In our physics class, the teacher said that on Friday he “assigned” someone to snack duty, mostly joking, but a student followed-through with a box of Timbits. We talk a lot about teaching through relationships at Lakefield, and we keep our class numbers small enough that everyone knows each other well and trust is built. Sometimes, particularly on Saturdays, that trust is fortified through snacks.
In one class, I saw a Harkness discussion in action. All of our English and Social Studies teachers are trained on Harkness-style learning at Exeter, and so Harkness discussions are everywhere. For those not familiar, students are required to come to class with a text busily annotated, good questions, and time to have thoroughly read the pages of focus for that day. It’s important because they will be the primary facilitators of the discussion for that lesson. I believe some of the greatest skills we can teach teens is to develop thoughtful ideas, listen deeply to others, and then disagree respectfully. Our teachers have become excellent at coaching students to engage in this kind of discussion-based learning, and what I hear from our alumni is that this seminar-style experience serves them well in a university environment. There is a lot of discussion in our classrooms every day, and this is even more the case on Saturdays. They may have a slightly laid back feel to them, but a lot of important things are happening in our classes on Saturday mornings.
One room that caught my attention—big time!—was the class engaged in a writing exercise. The class was writing using an AI program called Flint. I asked students to walk me through the process. They explained that the teacher required them to use Flint to develop a first draft of an assignment. The teacher had worked within the program to develop the task and the program then scaffolds instruction and feedback to the student as they create their draft. Flint will then give them an initial assessment of their work to that point, pushing them to delve deeper and make their language more precise. The teacher will grade students in part on how well they incorporate Flint’s feedback in their final drafts.
Students weren’t exactly thrilled with this process. Why? Flint gave what they perceived to be “harsh” and “critical” feedback, as well as a grade that was lower than what they expected. For some brave enough to admit it, students shared that the grade on their first draft was a mark in the 50s. They said they had never seen marks like that—Horror of horrors! What I have come to understand is that teachers can use this AI tool to guide the assessment of work it is helping students to create, and the early assessment it provides is a formative tool to help students get feedback in order to improve their work. So this feedback, while a little shocking, was actually quite specific and helpful.
I was intrigued (and admittedly entertained!), and asked them—“How is AI helpful?”
They explained that all the feedback was personalized and delivered within seconds. There is no way a teacher could provide such individual attention within a class period. When I walked in, they were in the process of improving their drafts based on the AI input and many students were working with their teacher on the feedback, finding ways to incorporate it or not. Students had to understand what helped them to create their unique voice and what was not part of their thinking. It was the kind of complicated and interesting thinking that all writing teachers want to have with students. This time, technology helped create a moment to have that discussion, and it was really intriguing to watch.
I couldn’t help but challenge the class—“So if you have such individualized and immediate feedback from AI, what is the role of your teacher?”
Their response surprised me—the AI provided them with feedback, but not only did they need an adult to help them apply it, they needed a human to help them reject what was not helpful, to wordsmith language that was not theirs, and see where they could more deeply explore an idea. The teacher was there to help them see where AI had created friction and not where it had created a shortcut. The teacher had used Flint to confront the student with questions and opportunities, not with answers. The students shared that what they really needed in that moment was a human teacher to support them, to be kind, and maybe use humour to keep them inspired! The AI feedback challenged them but a human was needed to motivate them to think deeper, try harder and stick with the process. Aha! Smart kids.
So what did I learn about the future of education last Saturday?
In a follow-up conversation with Laurie Fraser, one of our amazing English teachers, she shared that every student who engaged in the deep dive analysis saw significant improvement in their final piece of writing. The formative feedback from Flint actually helped with the teacher-student relationship because it provided specifics that anchored engaging conversation about next steps in the writing process. So I fully support even more AI in more of our classrooms when the teacher is skillful and uses the tool effectively.
I also believe that with all of the changes coming to education with the promise of AI, including the recent announcement of DeepSeek, there is one thing that won’t change—
Teachers will always be important in the life of a student. A great teacher can give a student confidence to be the thing they so deeply want to become. A great teacher can also help a student recognise something in themselves they didn’t know existed. It doesn’t matter how much technology you put in a space or how elegant and impressive that space is, the relationship between student and teacher is at the heart of every good classroom experience.
I’m grateful to all of our teachers for taking a leadership role in figuring out the role of AI and machine learning. And I’m deeply grateful to all of our teachers who continue to prioritize relationship-based learning.
So, here’s to the relationships that happen in classrooms. Here’s to trying new things, building confidence and making great use of our days. Here’s to all of that happening as often as possible, including on Saturday mornings at The Grove.



