AI will shape our children’s world. We can help shape how they meet it.
Editor’s note: As students in metro Atlanta return to school this week, The Atlanta Journal-Constitution is publishing several guest opinion columns about how artificial intelligence is reshaping education. Here is the latest of these essays.
By the time many parents sit down to ask, “Have you used AI for your homework?” their child has probably already used it dozens or hundreds of times.
UNICEF reports 1 in 10 already turn to AI for advice about things that worry them. Those statistics should give every parent pause. Our children are building relationships with technology before many of us have begun conversations about identity, judgment, values and character. Several parents are figuring out our own answers to those questions.
I’ve had the privilege of sitting with leaders during moments of profound uncertainty.
What has surprised me most isn’t how often people ask, “What will happen next?” or “Will I be able to keep up?” Those questions usually lead to a deeper one: Who will I be if everything changes?
It isn’t a leadership question. It’s a deeply human one. Our children have been asking versions of that question long before AI entered their classrooms and lives: Who do I want to become? What makes me valuable? Whose approval matters? Where do I belong? AI may influence how they answer those questions. It would be naive to pretend otherwise.

That is why this moment asks something different of parents. AI will shape our children’s world. We can help shape how they meet that world. We cannot control the technology they inherit, but we can help them develop the internal anchor they’ll carry into every classroom, friendship, workplace and conversation. When the future is uncertain values become an anchor.
Instead of asking, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” we should ask a different question: Who do you want to be — exempt from a career? Curious? Courageous? Compassionate? Trustworthy?
These qualities remain as technology evolves. Here’s what I know about children: They rarely become those things because we told them to. They become those things because they watched us practice them or model behaviors that lead to the healthy outcomes they likely seek.
Another lesson AI cannot teach is what it means to consider our impact on another human being. Family life offers endless opportunities to practice as we navigate homework battles, exhaustion, busy schedules, misunderstandings. I’ve definitely had moments with my own teenage sons when I wished I could rewind a conversation. Over time, I’ve realized that before I ask them to reflect on the impact of their behavior, I have to reflect on mine.
When conflict happens do we become defensive, blame, or pause and ask: “How did my actions affect them?” That pause teaches something AI can’t. It shows that emotions don’t have to make our decisions for us and that responding with intention is always possible. It also shows that we are willing to center someone else, even when emotions are high.
Finally, there is repair. I’ve yet to meet a parent who gets it right every time. I certainly don’t. The most powerful sentences a child can hear is, “I’m sorry. I got that wrong.” It doesn’t diminish our authority; it demonstrates courage. Meaningful apologies don’t end with “I’m sorry.” They continue with, “Here’s what I’ll do differently next time.” Children don’t learn accountability because we demand it. They learn it because they experience it.
The Japanese art of kintsugi repairs broken pottery with gold, leaving the cracks visible rather than hiding them. The piece is more valuable because it was mended with care. Families work the same way. Rupture is inevitable. Repair is a choice.
AI will change how children learn, communicate, solve problems and eventually work or shape how they understand themselves. Our children are answering questions daily that no algorithm can answer for them: What do I value? What kind of person do I want to be? What do I do when I’ve caused harm? How do I build trust? How do I belong?
Technology will participate in those conversations. So will teachers, friends, social media, and, yes, AI. Parents won’t have the loudest voice, but we can help our children develop the inner voice they carry long after ours grow quiet. That is the real work of parenting in the age of AI. We can’t control the world our children inherit. Through our example, however, we can help them meet it with curiosity, compassion and a strong sense of who they are.
Atlanta resident Aiko Bethea is the founder of Rare Coaching & Consulting. She advises senior leaders and organizations on self-leadership, culture and organizational effectiveness.
If you have any thoughts about this item, please go to our AJC Get Schooled Facebook page. If you’re interested in writing an op-ed for the AJC’s education page, drop us a note at education@ajc.com.