Laurel

A Day to Remember: Dairy of a student in an AI learning classroom

Diary Entry – September 11, 2044.

Today felt like a blur. I can hardly remember the moment I woke up this morning, let alone the details of the day that followed. In this world, there’s barely room for reflection. If you pause for too long, you miss something important. Or worse, you fall into FOMO (fear of missing out). I try to remind myself to slow down, but it’s hard when everything moves so fast. Technology is rampant around us, but who can even tell when the youngins that are born in this generation just live the way they do. It is normal to them after all.

It’s 7:34 PM now, my head still feels like it’s been buzzing. I guess that's what happens after a day of immersion. I call it "learning," but I’m not sure what that word even means anymore. It’s not the same as it was before, not the way it was for my parents, even before the AI and the headsets became so central to how we live.

We’ve all got our personalized headsets now, those sleek devices that plug into the back of our heads like a cable to a computer. They download information straight into our minds or so it feels like it... They don’t even need to tell us what we’re learning, the system just knows and the "teacher" speaks it to us. Sometimes it feels like I’m in a constant state of "downloading" without ever quite finishing the process or the idea of thinking. It’s all there, in my brain, somewhere, somehow. A constant data stream that never stops.

Learning now is a series of rapid bursts, fragmented moments...

My day started at 8:00 AM sharp when I slipped on my headset. Classrooms, at least the ones we used to have, no longer look like what they used to. The walls are clean, sterile, and metallic. It’s clearly not a place for conversation. Desks are in singular formation, no chalkboards, no whiteboards, no Smartboards. Instead, you lie back, put on your headset attached, and syncing with the wall’s interface. The human teacher in the room, just a robotic assistant monitoring our progress. Sometimes they talk, or rather, "speak," but mostly it's just an endless stream of silent prompts appearing on the heads-up display in front of my eyes and everyone's eyes that are in a room together.

Today’s lesson: Calculus. The algorithm ran the whole thing, fragmenting the equations into bite-sized, digestible chunks. I didn’t learn the theory behind any of it; it was all about applying formulas on the fly. I guess that's how the system does it now—just hands us information in a way that’s meant to be immediate, efficient. Get in, get out, keep moving.

When I first started with the headset, it was so disorienting. You think it’ll be easy. Just plug it in, and bam, you get everything you need to know. But there’s no connection to it, not like the old days of sitting with a book in your hand, or a teacher at the front of the class. I don’t think anyone remembers what it felt like to learn that way anymore. Not really to me at least.

Socialization. That word we used back only 20 years ago just doesn’t mean the same thing anymore. We don’t talk to each other, not much at least. We barely even make eye contact. The youngin's have occasionally in a blue moon asked, "what is eye contact?" Most of the time, we "socialize" by messaging each other through our screens or sending emojis that stand in for real emotions. We don’t need words; we just need symbols. It’s fast and easy. But also kind of... hollow if you know what I mean?

In our “classroom,” I can see everyone’s face, but no one is talking. I can hear the faint hum of their headsets, synchronized with the learning system, but that's it. We’re all just floating there, our minds working on different levels of tasks, ticking off modules and assessments one after the other. Everyone's progress is tracked in real-time, a number that hovers near their name. If you fall behind, it’s obvious. If you finish early, well, then you wait until the system serves you the next thing to work on.

I don’t know if anyone even wants to learn anymore. What is the meaning of learning? Does it even exist anymore? It’s not the same as it used to be, when we had teachers—real ones. In this new system, the “teacher” is more of a monitor. The assistant checks in on you, sends you updates, and adjusts your learning modules. It’s almost like the system itself is the teacher.

If something doesn’t make sense, there’s no one to ask. If you get confused, the headset adjusts itself to help you through it for the most part. It doesn’t wait for you to ask a question, because it’s already anticipating what you might need next. It’s a strange feeling to be learning without having to ask for help. It's all just happening inside your head.

Access and equity are a big issue now as we are all programmed to do the same thing. The wealthy can afford the latest headsets, the ones that connect directly to their neural interfaces with the highest bandwidth. Their education is personalized, curated by AIs that analyze their strengths and weaknesses over time. But for those who can’t afford it? Well, they get the lower-tier models, which means their learning is fragmented, slower, less responsive. It’s frustrating for them—when they can’t keep up with the high-speed students. And the teachers—or rather, the robotic assistants—don’t seem to notice. If you're lagging, you're left behind. There’s no safety net. No one seems to care enough to help. We’ve become so dependent on these systems that I’m not sure if anyone remembers what it means to be patient anymore, whether it is with people or patience in general.

The whole thing feels like it’s designed to push us forward without really asking us if we’re ready or even caring if we're ready. There's a constant pressure to move, to get ahead, to optimize yourself. I’m not sure how I feel about it anymore. Part of me wants to be grateful that I have the opportunity to learn like this, so much faster than before. But the other part of me longs for something real—something that’s not just a blur of data.

There’s this small part of me that still wants the world to slow down, maybe more than a small part... To take a breath... to actually breathe, listen, and learn... But then again, if I slow down, maybe I’ll miss something important. That’s the scariest thought of all!!!

Tomorrow’s lesson is History, if I remember correctly... What is memory??? Does it even exist anymore, or is it just another instrument to my imagination? Another module, another set of facts. I’ll probably remember some of it, but who knows how much I’ll truly understand. Maybe it doesn’t matter anymore.

I just need to keep up...or take another nap...let the download set in.