A Reason to Write
A gift to a grandson
A Reason to Write
Last night I took my son out to dinner for his birthday. My grandson, who is in his second year of college, also drove up with his dad. Sometime during the night, my grandson Taylor mentioned that his professor was using ChatGPT to grade student papers. Taylor then read back one of the professor’s remarks he had saved on his phone. I was stunned. I have had years of experience as a technical trainer under my belt. Hearing this professor’s remarks sent a chill down my spine.
An AI obviously wrote the professor’s remarks. They were typical of AI’s response to commenting on something a human has written. Cold. Flat in demeanor. The use of highly technical language where common words would have sufficed. I recognized the traits the minute he began to read the paragraph. More to the point, and what made me squirm, was the way the remarks were without compassion, understanding of the student’s intent, and were over the top. Using AI to grade papers is the perfect way to never get to know your student. It brought back the memory of something my great-grandfather said to me over 60 years ago. He said, “Education is a poor excuse for intelligence.” How I wholeheartedly agree with that statement.
As my son dropped me off at my house in Hampton, I told him to wait a minute, as I wanted to get something for Taylor in the house. Running to my desk, I pulled these nine books I had written off the shelf and gave them to my grandson. Part of me wanted to help him understand AI better. Part of what I wanted to give him was some hand-me-down advice on life. What I soon understood, as I watched them drive away, is that I had given him the perfect reason for writing. I had given him stories of my childhood, of growing up, my time in Vietnam, my stance on common sense, the ability to learn how to self-publish on his own, and the results of my investigation into ChatGPT. In retrospect, I wish that my father had done the same for me. I would have treasured that knowledge my entire life.
For me, the reason to write is to share my experiences, wisdom, and take on all that has happened to me in life. As their taillights disappeared into the night, I felt I had given him something special. I hope he reads them. I hope he learns more about his grandfather in a way that most kids cannot experience. I hope I taught him how to catch a fish, rather than be served one on a platter.
