The Purgatory of Becoming Unnecessary

Imagine this: you strive to learn about a subject that is dwindling. With the advancement of technology, nay, the evolution of society, no . . . the society of technology, we're becoming worthless. And so that goes for those who teach and adore the area of Liberal Arts.

"AI will do that for me."

"Online learning allows me to pass easier" but also "I don't get anything out of online classes."

"My employees don't need to learn how to write an essay."

These statements are a constant of what I hear every I step into the classroom or talk about teaching.

Don't get me wrong, Artificial Intelligence (AI, Chatgpt, whatever you wish to call it) has its benefits (I even teach this to my students). But imagine, once again, having a robot tell people about the insane price of what it'll cost to fix their car. Or giving the news that their loved one has died. This is already occurring.

Technology, although it's impressive, is desensitizing us. We're allowing a piece of metal and hardware to do the dirty work for us. Although the argument continues that if we have the computer write for us, we can focus on the actual work to be done. But it's communication (!!!), the engagement that we have with one another that can't be formulated by codes and wires.

This ongoing argument is getting tired. I'm tired. But here I am (here we are), wanting to continue to study the craft. Why? To keep the language alive? What language? We're in this drowning, abysmal downward spiral of our craft getting dejected from society. Is there even a place for us anymore? Will there be a place for us?

You tell us we aren't necessary, but let us know when you can't close that deal, or win that case, or find a long lost relative, or complain to the right person, or get into that school because you weren't able to formulate a coherent sentence alone.

You tell us you don't need us . . .

And yet, here you are, continuing to use the incorrect homophone.

The others? Those that need us and find the benefit to learning syntax, grammar, finding your voice, witnessing your truth due to the words you've created, creating a smile due to your comedic timing, making someone cry because of the simplistic poem you wrote (that took much longer than expected), the job you won because of the cover letter, the friends you made online on a forum about the best Vonnegut book you all agreed on (It's Breakfast of Champions), the relationships you still have with your pen pal from fourth grade?

We're still here somewhere, and we see you.