Evan

Mr. Dunlap’s Journal

Friday, September 6th, 2030

It’s crazy to think this month marks ten years since I started teaching. It feels like yesterday I was a 24-year-old, fresh-faced educator stepping into my first classroom. Over the past decade, I’ve learned so much about myself, my students, and the evolution of education in Toronto. I still remember older teachers warning me during my teacher training that classrooms were changing. Students no longer responded to authority the same way, especially after the COVID era, when they spent so much time learning through screens. Many were in shared spaces at home, distracted by parents working remotely or siblings studying alongside them. Social media was also in full swing by 2024, reshaping how students interacted with each other and their teachers. When I began teaching, I saw firsthand what I had been warned about. My first classroom was a group of Grade 7 and 8 students. Their knowledge of current events, fueled by social media, was striking, but so was their constant attachment to their phones. Students would grab any chance to play games or scroll through apps. Thankfully, the Ontario government had recently enforced rules requiring phones to be silent and out of sight during lessons, which gave teachers like me some control. Even so, students often pushed back. Fast forward to 2030, and not much has changed in that regard—students are glued to their phones more than ever. Workshops and resources have helped educators manage this, but the challenge persists. Despite efforts to integrate social media into the curriculum meaningfully, the most progress has come in understanding its mental health effects. Studies reveal that early exposure to social media correlates with negative self-image, low self-esteem, and higher rates of loneliness and depression. These trends were visible even in 2024, but the unrestricted nature of social media only deepened them. Platforms that monetize attention hold a tight grip on young minds, and restricting access feels like an uphill battle. However, technology has also brought incredible opportunities to the classroom. For example, every room in my school now has a virtual reality (VR) headset. Initially, I was skeptical, worried VR might encourage complacency. But its educational potential has exceeded my expectations. Students can virtually travel back in time to explore ancient Greece or visit global landmarks without leaving the classroom. It’s like a field trip within four walls. Unfortunately, not all schools have access to this technology. My school was lucky to acquire a class set through an innovation grant, but the disparity is evident. While affluent schools are equipped with the latest tools, others can barely maintain basic equipment. This inequity weighs heavily on me. How can we prepare every student for the future when resources are so unevenly distributed? To address this, the board introduced a technology-sharing initiative. Underfunded schools can borrow advanced tools like VR sets for limited periods. It’s a step in the right direction, but scheduling conflicts and logistical issues often leave schools waiting for months. It feels like a band-aid solution for a much larger problem. The role of teachers has also evolved significantly. In 2030, we’re no longer just conveyors of knowledge. With so much information online, my focus has shifted to teaching critical thinking and helping students navigate the overwhelming flood of content. I spend as much time guiding them in evaluating credible sources and spotting misinformation as I do delivering lessons. The curriculum has also transformed. There’s a strong emphasis on personalized, competency-based learning. Each student now has an individualized learning plan monitored by AI-powered systems. These systems suggest tailored activities, readings, or assignments based on a student’s strengths and weaknesses. At first, I worried this approach might depersonalize education, but it’s been the opposite. AI handles the technical side, freeing me to mentor, motivate, and build relationships with my students. Still, inclusion remains a challenge. Not every student thrives in this system, particularly those who need hands-on support. We’ve worked to incorporate culturally relevant pedagogy to ensure lessons reflect the diverse identities and experiences of our students. For example, during a VR exploration of history, we include perspectives from marginalized groups so all students see themselves represented in the material. Accessibility has also become a cornerstone of educational planning. Universal design principles mean that tools and environments are created to support students with disabilities from the outset. VR content includes audio descriptions and captions, and AI systems cater to diverse learning styles, including neurodivergent students. These advancements give me hope for a more inclusive future, even though there’s still room for growth. Looking ahead, I wonder what the next decade will bring. Will we finally resolve the systemic equity issues in education? Will we tackle the mental health challenges tied to social media? I can only hope that as technology continues to advance, so does our commitment to supporting every student—academically, socially, and emotionally. For now, I’ll keep doing my part. Teaching in 2030 is a balancing act, but it’s one I’m proud to navigate.