Do digital devices and AI tools ignite curiosity or quietly dim human connection?
Two Redmenta Ambassadors share real-world insights: Elizabeth Ogbudu, a decade-plus educator who began in British primary schools and now teaches elementary and middle school students worldwide online (ELA, ESL, math, science); and Priyahasini Sevanesan, a KS4 IGCSE teacher at an international school in Malaysia, pursuing a Master’s in Educational Technology at the University of Malaya and passionate about equity in learning.
The push to wire every classroom is louder than ever. Governments hand out tablets by the millions, EdTech startups promise “personalized learning for all,” and AI tools now grade essays, suggest lesson plans, and even chat with students in real time. Yet beneath the glossy demos, unease is spreading. Parents worry about screen addiction and shrinking attention spans. Teachers fear they’re losing eye contact and control. Some districts have banned phones outright; others lock laptops in pouches at the door. UNESCO’s 2023 report on AI in education warned of cheating risks, privacy holes, and widening inequality. In short: the digital revolution in schools is here and it’s messy.
Elizabeth Ogbudu teaches middle schoolers who often freeze at the sight of a blank page. Creative writing, for them, feels like staring into a void. Then came an AI-powered reading and writing tool.
“My learners are always excited when I incorporate technology in my classroom. It’s sometimes the catalyst that triggers enthusiasm and promotes attention span and focus. I remember introducing an AI-powered reading and writing tool to a group of middle schoolers who often struggled to get started with creative writing. The atmosphere shifted from silence to buzzing excitement as they realized the tool could spark ideas while still leaving space for their own voice. Technology didn’t replace their thinking—it gave them the confidence to begin.”
The result? Stronger drafts, bolder ideas, and students who wanted to revise.
“Technology improved my students’ writing quality and enhanced engagement.”
For Ogbudu, tech isn’t a shortcut, it’s a confidence booster, lowering the barrier to creativity.
Priyahasini Sevanesan admits: “Honestly, I can say I’m a bit old-school. I still prefer students to bring books and pens to school.”
Yet she embraces technology’s potential. In a business studies class, she shared a social media post about global entrepreneurs and challenged her students: Who are these people?
“Because they had their devices, they could quickly find out. Otherwise, it would have been my job to explain each one in detail.”
The lesson shifted from lecture to discovery. Students researched, debated, and owned their learning, while Sevanesan guided from the sidelines.
This kind of moment stands in sharp contrast to the growing backlash against classroom tech. Teachers in some U.S. states now face “phone-free” mandates; a handful of private schools have gone further by banning laptops entirely, requiring paper notebooks, and locking devices in Yondr pouches at the door. Sevanesan teaches in a tech-heavy environment, yet even she feels the pull of tradition: books and pens remain her default, a hedge against distraction and over-reliance.
Do tablets build bridges or walls? Elizabeth Ogbudu emphasizes intention:
“From my experience, digital devices bring us closer when they’re used with intention. A video call, a shared interactive quiz, or even collaborative whiteboards allow me to connect with learners in real time, even across continents. The distance comes only when tech is used as a shield rather than a bridge.”
Priyahasini Sevanesan focuses on balance:
“Even though my school relies heavily on devices, I can see that most students still maintain a strong connection with their teachers. At the end of the day, it comes down to how we, as educators, want to shape our students.”
Tech can isolate—think headphones on, notifications pinging—but it can also connect, like a shared quiz linking students across oceans. The difference lies in how it’s wielded.
Still, the worry is real. Surveys show one in three teachers believes devices widen emotional gaps; parents flood PTAs with complaints about “zombie scrolling” during lessons. Ogbudu and Sevanesan counter that rules alone don’t solve the problem—training does. Without clear guidelines, a collaborative whiteboard becomes a gaming portal; with them, it’s a bridge to a classmate in another hemisphere.
Picture a typical school day.
With technology, Ogbudu says:
“I can adapt on the spot, check for understanding instantly, and open doors to resources that bring the world right into the classroom. Technology is the heartbeat of engaging education.”
Sevanesan agrees: “Learning feels more interactive and independent. Students can access information quickly, complete tasks faster, and explore beyond what’s in the textbook. Teachers shift from being the sole source of knowledge to becoming facilitators who guide and support.”
Without it? Sevanesan reflects:
“The classroom feels more traditional—students rely heavily on the teacher, there’s more focus on direct communication, and fewer distractions from devices. Both approaches have their strengths.”
Elizabeth Ogbudu and Priyahasini Sevanesan don’t choose between tradition and technology—they blend them with purpose. The spark isn’t on the screen. It’s in the teacher who knows when to power it up, when to power it down, and how to keep the human voice at the heart of learning.
