AARE blog

GenAI: Will It Deepen the Digital Divide in Australian Classrooms?

June 12, 2025AARE blog, artificial intelligence, Artificial Intelligence in schools, UncategorizedAARE blog, artifical intelligence, Central Queensland University, digital divide, Generative AI, Meena Jha

Edtech advocate and promote generative artificial intelligence (GenAI) tools as transformative, offering personalised scalable, and interactive learning experience. That only works for some schools. While some experiment with AI-driven platforms and policies, others lack basic digital infrastructure. The risk is clear: GenAI may not democratise education. Instead it might deepen existing divides unless we have targeted policies and equitable implementation.

From “AI for ALL” to Unequal Access

GenAI has potential. It can adapt explanations to student needs, offer 24/7 academic support, and automate repetitive tasks that are very time consuming for teachers. The major assumption in the use of GenAI is that all students and teachers are equipped enough, have access to the technology, the skills to use it, and the literacy to question it.

The UNESCO report on Global education Monitoring Report, 2023: technology in education:a tool on whose terms? revealsaccess to AI-enhanced learning tools remains highly unequal across socioeconomic lines. Many students in rural and remote communities, as well as those from culturally and linguistically diverse backgrounds, are less likely to benefit. Reasons? Limited access to devices, patchy internetand language bias in AI systems. Low Earth Orbit (LEO) satellite internet once installed offers a promising solution for bridging the digital divide in rural areas.

The OECD Education Policy Outlook 2024 reports on building equitable societies, includinghelping manage teacher workload through the support of AI. However, it also suggests that students without digital literacy may rely on AI outputs without critical understanding, leading to superficial or inaccurate learning. Australia’sdigital divide is already evident more pronounced between urban and regional schools. Some private and well funded schools are integrating AI literacy into their classroom practices, while public schools in lower SES areas are still navigating foundational digital inclusion.

What’s Happening in Australian Classrooms?

A range of state-level and system-wide GenAI pilot programs are already underway. These examples illustrate both innovation and inequality.

In Western Australia, a $4.7 million AI pilot program funded by the federal and state governments is exploring how AI can reduce teacher workload through lesson planning and administrative support. Eight public schools are involved in this initial phase.

In South Australia, the Department of Education partnered with Microsoft to launch EdChat, a generative chatbot trialled in eight high schools in an initial trial completed in August 2023. Designed to support inquiry-based learning, the chatbot raised questions around student data privacy, accuracy of feedback and classroom integration.

In NSW, the government developed NSWEduChat, an AI assistant being trialled in 16 public schools. Unlike ChatGPT, it prompts students to reflect and reason, rather than delivering direct answers. The tool aims to align with pedagogical goals, but requires teachers to mediate use and guide students’ understanding.

In Queensland, Brisbane Catholic Education developed Catholic CoPilot, grounded in Catholic teaching, tradition and theology. Teachers use it for lesson planning, report writing, and generating resources, showing that customised AI is feasible within institutional values.

In Victoria, an independent school in Melbourne, Haileybury Keysborough , embraced ChatGPT and created school-wide protocols to teach students ethical and effective AI use. These include critical thinking tasks and assessments designed to discourage AI overreliance.

These examples show the growing momentum but also risk of a two-speed system. Well-resourced schools move quickly, underfunded ones lag behind, potentially widening the gap in both learning outcomes and digital literacy.

AI Literacy:The New Divide

One of the most overlooked challenges in this debate is the literacy gap around AI. Knowing how to access GenAI is not enough. Students and teachers need to understand how these tools work, their limitations and how to verify output generated by these AI systems.

A 2024 Australian Education Union Survey Victoria Branch revealed 1,560 underfunded public schools in Victoria. Public schools, particularly in regional and low-income areas, have limited opportunities. According to the Australian Education Union’s (AEU) 2024 article on future skills for educators, teachers are “left to navigate the ethical and pedagogical risks of AI on their own”, often without clear national guidance, curriculum-aligned training, or digital infrastructure to experiment safely.

This leads to a two-tier system. n one, students and teachers are supported to use AI thoughtfully as a scaffold for learning collaboration, and innovation. In the other, they are either excluded from AI use altogether, or exposed to it in ways that lack context, clarity, critical literacy, or alignment with pedagogy. This new two-tier of inequality will produce students who can interrogate technology critically, and those who treat it as an unquestioned authority.

Even more concerning, the AEU notes that “students already at a disadvantage are most at risk of falling further behind” if AI adoption is left to market forces or uneven state-by-state initiatives.

Design, Governance, and Inclusion

GenAI tools are not culturally neutral. They reflect the data they are trained on, mostly English language, Western centric internet sources. Without careful consideration, they can reinforce linguistic, cultural, and cognitive bias.

Bender, in On the Dangers of Stochastic Parrots, warns that the large language models (LLM), on which GenAI is based, often reproduce harmful stereotypes and misinformation unless explicitly mitigated. This risk is amplified in educational settings where students may lack the critical skills to identify inaccuracies.

Equity in AI use means more than access, it demands representation, transparency, and contextual sensitivity. We need AI tools aligned to local curricula, respectful of cultural knowledge systems, and available in accessible formats.

What Can Be Done?

Invest in infrastructure for underserved schools to ensure that all public schools particularly in regional, remote and low SES areas have reliable internet, updated devices, and tech support.

Moving beyond one-off briefings. Teachers need ongoing training that is curriculum-aligned, classroom tested, and critically reflective. Professional learning communities, and microcredentials in AI pedagogy could help bridge the gap.

Engage learners, families, and communities in conversations about AI use in education and developing investing in open source AI that reflects Australia’s educational and cultural diversity.

As educators, researchers, and policymakers we have a choice. We can let technology set the pace, or we can slow down, ask critical questions, and build systems that centre human dignity and learning equity. Let us ensure that GenAI supports the public good, not just private innovation.

Let us ensure no learner is left behind in the age of artificial intelligence.

Meena Jha is an accomplished researcher, educator, and leader in the field of computer science and information technology, currently serving as Head of the Technology and Pedagogy Cluster at Central Queensland University (CQU), Sydney, Australia.

Are machines now appealing?

June 10, 2025artificial intelligence, higher educationAARE blog, artificial intelligence, Jonathan Boymal, RMIT University

A colleague recently shared a polite email from a student appealing their assessment grades. Every rubric criterion was defended and addressed in tremendous detail.

It felt optimised, and in an age of generative AI, maybe that’s exactly what it was.

We’re entering a new phase where students use AI not just to prepare assessments but to craft appeals, generating arguments perfectly shaped to align with criteria and maximise persuasive force.

To understand this development, we must first examine the role of rubrics in contemporary education. Assessment rubrics function as what Michel Foucault might recognise as disciplinary technologies, tools that standardise judgment and render subjective evaluation processes transparent and measurable. They represent institutional attempts to rationalise assessment, making explicit the criteria by which student work is evaluated, theoretically democratising access to success criteria.

Constructing appeals with unprecedented precision

As Pierre Bourdieu reminds us, institutions often reward not just knowledge but the ability to navigate codes and expectations. When rubrics and standardised criteria are coupled with AI-augmented optimisation, however, we risk shifting learning’s centre from transformative engagement to compliance engineering, undermining the outcomes we are attempting to measure.

Students with access to sophisticated AI tools can now systematically analyse rubric language, identify optimisation opportunities, and construct appeals with unprecedented precision. This development represents what Jürgen Habermas would likely classify as the colonisation of educational lifeworlds by instrumental rationality, the reduction of learning processes to technical problems requiring algorithmic solutions.

When academic feedback like “this section lacks depth” gets treated as a technical problem to solve, however, rather than expert judgment to engage with, we transform educational dialogue. The more “optimised” the process, the less space for generosity, nuance, or authentic learning’s messy back-and-forth.

Jacques Rancière’s work on pedagogy suggests that educational relationships depend on the assumption of human mutuality, a recognition that both student and teacher are capable of thought and interpretation. AI-mediated appeals disrupt this dynamic. When students rely on AI to process feedback, the algorithm does not engage with feedback as a thinking subject but processes it as information to be optimised against.

Recognition and validation

I expect that students using AI for appeals genuinely care. They want recognition and validation, in addition to graduating with their degree. Max Weber’s analysis of rationalisation processes, however, helps us understand how well-intentioned actions can contribute to broader structural changes that undermine their original purposes. Weber observed how the rationalisation of social life (the systematic organisation of action according to calculated rules) tends to displace value-rational action (action oriented toward ultimate values) with instrumental rationality (action oriented toward efficiency). When students optimise appeals against rubric criteria, they engage in precisely this type of instrumental calculation, even when their underlying motivations remain value-oriented.

Academic assessment involves what Aristotle called phronesis: practical wisdom that cannot be reduced to rule-following. When educators evaluate student work, they exercise judgment that draws on disciplinary expertise, pedagogical experience, and contextual understanding. This judgment necessarily involves interpretation and cannot be fully systematised. AI-optimised appeals attempt to bypass this judgmental dimension by reducing assessment to rule application. This reduction represents what Herbert Marcuse might recognise as one-dimensional thinking, the flattening of complex educational relationships into technical procedures.

The proliferation of AI-mediated appeals has broader implications for educational institutions. If Anthony Giddens is correct that modern institutions depend on trust relationships between expert systems and lay participants, then the mechanisation of student appeals may erode the trust relationships that sustain educational institutions.

Educators as algorithmic systems

When students systematically optimise against assessment criteria rather than engaging with feedback as developmental guidance, they effectively treat educators as algorithmic systems rather than professional practitioners. This shift may prompt educators to become more defensive in their assessment practices, potentially reducing the pedagogical risk-taking that often produces meaningful learning experiences.

If appeals processes become dominated by AI optimisation, institutions may respond by developing counter-measures: AI systems to evaluate AI-generated appeals. In Jean Baudrillard’s terms, a simulation replaces real interaction with its mechanised imitation.

This broader context helps explain why AI-optimised appeals feel unsettling even when students’ motivations appear legitimate. The optimisation process treats educational relationships as data to be manipulated rather than human connections involving care, judgment, and mutual recognition.

The messy middle

We live in the messy middle where human and machine shape one another. It is a zone of entanglement where our judgements, our values and our decisions are increasingly mediated, supported or even challenged by machine outputs. Machines, however, do not care. Education’s meaning is formed in relational and ethical spaces. We must protect them.

Jonathan Boymal is an associate professor of economics in the School of Economics, Finance and Marketing, RMIT University’s College of Business and Law. He has 25 years of higher education leadership experience at the undergraduate and postgraduate levels across Melbourne, Hong Kong, Singapore and Vietnam, in roles including Associate Deputy Vice-Chancellor, Learning Teaching and Quality and Academic Director, Quality and Learning and Teaching Futures. Jonathan holds a PhD in Economics.

Student encampment at Adelaide University - Kaurna Yerta 5 May 2024. Photo: Jack Desbiolles

These are deeply disturbing patterns of censorship across Australian universities

June 6, 2025censorshipAARE blog, censorship, higher education, Jane Kenway, Palestine

To stifle growing pro-Palestinian activities on Australian campuses, university authorities are developing and applying disparate techniques of control. Consequently, the university as a place of free speech, political activism and the right to protest is under attack.

The Universities of Sydney, Melbourne and WA are particularly punitive. The intricate intrusiveness and hyper-vigilance of their techniques of control are well known and widely criticised.

All these techniques have been identified by members of Educational Researchers for Palestine — a group I belong to. Such patterns are evident in the views and material we have gathered from universities and from our own experiences, observations and communications with other staff and students. While the following techniques are not equally evident in all universities, various combinations are evident in many.

1. Control through double-speak

Universities claim to uphold free speech and academic freedom. But on matters related to Israel/Palestine they shut both down. They also claim to balance free speech with their antiracism agendas. But these agendas are selective. Antisemitism is their focus. Anti-Palestinian racism, including their own, is not. Anti-Palestinian racism involves ‘actions that silence, exclude, erase, stereotype, defame, or dehumanise Palestinians and their narratives.’

They say they balance free speech with ensuring a safe environment. But their main concern is the political backlash associated with purported complaints about the safety of Jewish students and staff. In contrast, the university itself creates an unsafe environment for Palestinian staff, students and their allies including their Jewish allies.

2. Control through distraction

By focusing on antisemitism, universities distract attention from anti-Palestinian racism on campus and from Israel’s dreadful treatment of the Palestinian people. This distraction involves endless debates about what constitutes antisemitism. And universities’ ambiguous definitions of antisemitism allow them flexibility in classifying hateful and threatening speech.

In February 2025, Universities Australia (UA) released its highly ambiguous ‘working definition of antisemitism’. This was endorsed by all 39 members. How individual universities will embed their endorsement is not yet clear but further distraction is guaranteed.

3. Spatial control

Restrictions are placed on the spaces where Palestinian supporters might gather to prepare banners and posters, distribute materials and hold events. Students are not allowed to announce events in classrooms or lecture theatres, to leave fliers on desks or posters on walls. These who don’t ‘belong’ to the university are prohibited from involvement in protests on university grounds and threatened with trespass.

4. Language and image control

The campus is to be cleansed of posters, fliers, flags, chalked messages. Almost any image, phrase or slogan may be deemed antisemitic. Hence, all images of Palestine or messages of Palestine advocacy or solidarity can be defined as contravening university rules.

5. Political control

Student and staff activities relating to Palestine are strongly discouraged — clubs, film screenings, speakers’ forums, petitioning, distributing leaflets, chalking— even fundraising. University approval can be sought but such approval is largely a delaying and censorship ploy involving microscopic bureaucratic hurdles.

Some academic staff are expected to become agents of the university’s political control in their classrooms. They must ensure that nothing is said or seen that is unrelated to their immediate teaching topic.

When linked to Palestine/Israel, certain research, teaching and learning are considered dangerous — justice and ethics, human rights, international law, settler colonialism, apartheid, imperialism and the history and geopolitics of the ‘middle east’. Those pursuing such ‘dangerous knowledge’ may feel the need to water-down their curriculum and research.

6. Technological surveillance

In some cases, if they are to use a university account staff and students must agree to being monitored. Whether they agree or not technology is used to monitor pro-Palestinian activities, to identify ‘ring leaders’ and participants. Pro-Palestinian activists may also have their technology use restricted thus making it difficult to share information. Certainly, over time, universities have increased their surveillance of all staff and students — usually with little or no follow up. However, their surveillance and follow up have intensified in response to pro-Palestinian activism.

7. Discipline and punishment

Students and staff are subjected to various forms. Their self-defence is time-consuming, costly and emotionally draining.

Peaceful events are often redefined as potentially threatening and violent. Hence security staff and police are used to ‘keep the peace’ and to identify and report ‘leaders’ and ‘troublemakers’. They have been used to shut down encampments and protests. At encampments they have not protected students from violent attacks by extreme right-wing groups. Their presence is implicitly threatening, and their behaviour is sometimes physically violent.

Undergraduate and graduate students have been ‘spoken to’, warned, suspended, fined and expelled. Staff have also been ‘spoken to’ and warned, had their teaching and other activities monitored and reported by pro-Israeli/Zionist students and other staff. They have had their research questioned and some have had their grants suspended.

8. Climate control

A climate of fear and distrust is created. It has a chilling effect on everyday university activities and relationships. Fear causes self-censorship. Events are relocated or re-badged.

Staff feel their opportunities for jobs, tenure, promotion and academic leave are at risk. Students feel at risk of suspension and expulsions. They often don’t know if their peers, lecturers or supervisors will support or report them. Palestinian, Muslim and Arab staff feel extra visible and vulnerable.

The result: universities of bad faith and ethical emptiness

They have allowed themselves to be intimidated by politicians and special interest groups. They have tried to bury discussion of an inexcusable tragedy involving genocide. They have sacrificed the notion that knowledge must be free and fearless — corrupting truth and undermining trust and collegiality. Timid and small minded, they implicitly encourage staff and students to be the same.

Were they not so ethically empty universities could have practised an ethic of care, courage and compassion in response to the ongoing horrors visited by Israel on Gaza and the West Bank. They could have developed this into a sector wide ethos. They could have responded to the desperate calls for help from Universities in Gaza. They could have explored, with staff and students, ways to help Gaza recover from the educational obliteration of scholasticide. They could have mobilised their knowledge and expertise to contribute to understandings of the issues and to consider how university members might help alleviate the Palestinian people’s terrible suffering.

Could have? Should have.

Jane Kenway is an elected Fellow of the Academy of Social Sciences, Australia, Emeritus Professor at Monash University and Professorial Fellow at the University of Melbourne. Her research expertise is in educational sociology.

Main image: Student encampment at Adelaide University – Kaurna Yerta 5 May 2024. Photo: Jack Desbiolles. There is no evidence to say that any of these patterns of censorship occurred during this encampment.

Young student at white board in maths lesson

Is successful maths teaching more than method?

June 5, 2025explicit instruction, mathematics, Maths curriculumAARE blog, Carly Sawatzki, Deakin University, Jill Brown, Laura Tuohilampi, maths teaching, UNSW

What counts as “evidence-based” teaching in mathematics? Given calls by the Grattan Institute to end the lesson lottery and make a maths guarantee, this question matters. Explicit teaching is always part of a high-quality lesson sequence. But defining it as the ultimate pedagogy sidelines the very practices that engage students in mathematical thinking. Students need more than procedural recall and routines without reasoning if they’re going to thrive in a rapidly changing world.

Why is explicit teaching making a comeback?

In signing the Albanese government’s Better and Fairer Schools Agreement, Australian states and territories have committed to provide all students with highly effective evidence-based teaching and equitable learning opportunities.

This is translated as adopting the Australian Education Research Organisation’s (AERO) advice on explicit instruction as “what works best” when it comes to teaching fundamentals like reading and mathematics.

In its explainer on how to optimise learning, AERO describes explicit instruction as follows:

‘Teachers directly explain to students how to complete a task, why the task is important, and how the task relates to and extends their previous knowledge. Demonstrations of how to perform tasks or solve problems are provided, often using worked examples.’

It is important to note that AERO’s valuing of explicit instruction stems from a narrow interpretation of the purpose of school education and what counts as research evidence. The studies AERO favours are typically randomised controlled trials not set in school classrooms. Seeking to transform teaching practice by generalising research findings made in tightly controlled environments is problematic. Why? Because these settings are often worlds apart from real classrooms. As the OECD notes, the reality for teachers is often unpredictable classrooms, where students have diverse and competing needs, resources are limited and time is constrained.

Policy is being used to deliver instructional fidelity

Yet, for the first time, education policy is being used to deliver instructional fidelity. The NSW Department of Education School Excellence Framework states: “Explicit teaching is the main practice used in the school.” In the Victorian Teaching and Learning Model Version 2.0, explicit teaching is the only pedagogy mentioned.

In both these states, departments of education have produced detailed guidelines outlining what explicit teaching is and isn’t. They also provide lesson banks to help teachers align their teaching practice with these specifications. Across the Catholic system, instructional resources developed by AERO’s preferred partner, Ochre Education, are now widely used.

As a result, the classroom experience for many young Australians is now the use of universal slide decks that follow the “gradual release of responsibility” model. It borrows from literacy research and is sometimes referred to as the “I do, we do, you do” lesson structure. According to AERO, this involves the teacher modelling how to do mathematics and monitoring for 80% of students to achieve mastery before moving to any form of meaningful independent practice. This enactment tends to focus teachers and students on perfecting procedures and algorithms. This leaves less time for real world problem-solving experiences that more holistically develop mathematical thinking.

To adhere to these directives is to ignore decades of mathematics education research.

So, what is the evidence for effective mathematics teaching and learning?

The truth is there is no magic bullet.

Studies have shown that when teachers combine student- and teacher-centred pedagogies, students do better. In fact, an OECD analysis identified three broad teaching strategies described as active learning, cognitive activation, and teacher-directed instruction. The OECD inked exposure to these teaching strategies with student performance on its PISA mathematical literacy assessment. It found strategies for active learning and cognitive activation were more effective than explicit or direct instruction. However, teacher-directed instruction was what students mostly experienced, despite this mode of instruction being least impactful for mathematics performance.

Another OECD PISA analysis found teacher-directed strategies can support student success on easier tasks. But as problems become more difficult, students with more exposure to teacher-directed instruction no longer have a better chance of success. This is because too much teacher talk limits students’ opportunities to take ownership for thinking mathematically without close guidance. This insight is consistent with studies that show student-centred pedagogies are particularly effective in developing student initiative, responsibility and working mathematically.

Of course, it is important to teach explicitly and to make mathematical language and representations clear and visible. But flexibility is key. What works is contingent on the circumstances, including curriculum learning outcomes, learner profiles and the mathematical foci for the lesson.

Strong mathematics and numeracy leadership also matters

The presence of an expert mathematics teacher who has input into school policy decisions and knows how to develop others’ teaching practice is a key feature of schools that perform highly in mathematics.

For example, a substantive study commissioned by the Australian Chief Scientist analysed data from 52 case study schools. Each of these schools had an increase of 1 standard deviation or more in their NAPLAN results. Data collected from hundreds of school leaders, teachers and students across these settings revealed organisational factors that underpin success.

These schools were committed to teaching mathematics for deep understanding. They valued student-centred learning, including student talk for understanding. They also took a consistent (not uniform) approach to local curriculum planning and had high levels of teacher autonomy. This means teachers were trusted to select teaching resources and pedagogies that met their students’ needs and interests.

We need to make maths real

A recent report explained that the telling and testing students typically experience in school mathematics is often at odds with developing positive feelings or a long-term interest in the subject. Parents and teachers want mathematics lessons to be more engaging and real-world relevant so young people learn to use mathematics to think critically and make decisions.

Studies of student motivation have shown teaching mathematics through interesting and challenging real world examples motivates students to choose the subject in senior secondary years and pursue mathematics-related careers.

That’s why curriculum writers have tried to position young people as active in the process of developing mathematical knowledge, skills, proficiencies and processes.

It is through actively doing mathematics – not watching slide decks and memorizing procedures – that young people develop the kind of mathematical thinking they’ll need beyond the school gates.

Explicit teaching may be a solution to some problems in mathematics education, but it is not the only solution to all problems, all of the time.

Carly Sawatzki and Jill Brown are mathematics education researchers at Deakin University’s School of Education and in the Centre for Research for Educational Impact (REDI). Laura Tuohilampi is a mathematics education researcher at UNSW and the founder of Math Hunger and Maths for Humans. The authors’ work helps teachers connect the school curriculum with the real world, making mathematics education lifeworthy for today and tomorrow.

The authors wish to acknowledge the contributions of professional educators who provided insights and feedback that shaped this article.

Is Australia now ready for migrant teachers?

June 2, 2025IELTS, migrant teachersAARE blog, AITSL, Alex Kostogriz, Curtin University, IELTS, La Trobe University, Lilly Yazdanpanah, migration, Monash University, Nashid Nigar, Rachel Wilson, Sender Dovchin, University of Melbourne, UTS

“We help you get started on your teaching journey in Australia”. — AITSL

Amid the 2025 federal election furor, migration became a central issue. Opposition Leader Peter Dutton proposed cutting permanent migration and capping international students. He blamed recent arrivals for pressure on housing, healthcare, and education. “Labor’s brought in a million people over two years”, he said, citing record migration and housing strain.

While Dutton stopped short of claiming migrants are “lowering standards”, his rhetoric mirrors a global trend in right-wing populism. In March 2025, the US President Donald Trump signed an executive order to dismantle the US Department of Education. He fulfilled a campaign promise to return school control to states—raising concerns over equity and federal support.

Both leaders framed migration as a threat to national capacity and cultural values. This revealed a deeper ideological project: the re-bordering of education under the guise of standards and control. Migration becomes a strategic focal point—mobilised to rally electoral support by casting it as both a cultural disruption and a structural burden to national institutions.

A more polished message

In contrast, the AITSL presents a more polished message: “Australia is popular for many things… a safe country with a friendly and relaxed culture… we can help you get started on your teaching journey”. Yet the AITSL portal also codifies a logic of superiority—positioning Australia’s education system as globally exceptional, its teachers as stewards of excellence, and its structures as the source of “evidence-based tools”.

This nation-branding rhetoric appears inclusive on the surface. But as our discourse analysis reveals, it constructs a one-way narrative of giving. Migrant teachers are positioned as beginners—“starting out”—even when they arrive with decades of experience. Their role is not to enrich the system, but to assimilate into it. As Mahati, a respected English teacher from India in Nashid’s doctoral study, reflected: “I had been teaching English for over twenty years across continents—India and Uganda—before I came to Australia. But here, I had to redo everything. It felt like I was invisible”.

The real costs are tangible. Laura, a cherished English teacher from the Philippines and participant in Nashid’s doctoral study, told us: “I took the IELTS test four times plus a review over two years. It cost me nearly four months’ salary in pesos. I had everything else ready—but the language requirement kept holding me back”.

Far from isolated

This issue is far from isolated. Migrant teachers frequently encounter inconsistent and retroactively enforced policy barriers. This occurs even amid a critical shortage of teachers and skilled migrants in education. While not representative of all, the stories of Amarjit, Anya, Reza, and others—such as Archana, Jigna, Joy, Hossein and his wife, Mahesh, Nishni, Samia, and Shurma—reflect recurring themes emerging from our shared work and Nashid’s doctoral research with immigrant teachers. Reza, a science teacher from Bangladesh, completed his Initial Teacher Education in Victoria. When he enrolled, the Victorian Institute of Teaching (VIT) required a lower IELTS threshold. But by the time he graduated, the benchmark had shifted significantly. “Academic IELTS: at least 7.0 in Reading and Writing and 8.0 in Speaking and Listening, on one TRF (Test Report From), taken within 24 months”.

An overall IELTS score of 7.5 or 8.0 can still be rejected if one skill—such as Writing at 6.5—falls below the required threshold. As scholars argue, this rigid, decontextualised format reflects a neoliberal and neocolonial gatekeeping logic. It marginalises qualified multilingual teachers through standardised measures detached from real-world communication.

Reza explained: “I kept failing. One time I got 8 in listening but 6.5 in writing. The next time it was the reverse. After two years, I gave up and returned home”.

One teacher’s journey

He continued teaching—at an international college in Bangladesh—while repeatedly sitting for the IELTS test. Over time, each attempt brought him close, but never across the threshold required by Australian standards. After two years of emotional and financial strain, his family suggested he apply through New Zealand. There a score of 7.0 across all bands was still accepted. He met the criteria, registered with the Teachers Registration Board of South Australia (TRBSA), and used this to apply for skilled migration with family sponsorship—gaining an additional 10 points. From there, he transferred his registration to the Victorian Institute of Teaching (VIT) and finally settled in Melbourne.

This narrative is part of a broader trend of policy drift: where teacher migration frameworks become increasingly exclusionary, often without recognising their global contributions, lived experiences, and situated knowledge of those navigating them. By contrast, NESA now offers more flexible pathways, including English testing exemptions for internationally trained teachers with relevant experience or English-medium qualifications.

State-level discrepancies

These state-level discrepancies expose a fragmented and inequitable accreditation landscape. Since 2022, our research and public engagement have informed national discussions and policy change. An article by the Australian Associated Press (AAP)—syndicated across 100+ media outlets— amplified the undervaluation of skilled migrant teachers, contributing to recent NESA reforms on English language proficiency test exemptions for internationally trained teachers.

Quang, a respected English teacher from Vietnam with four English-medium postgraduate degrees (two from Vietnam, two from Australia, including ITE/Secondary), shared a similar experience. “I passed everything—teaching practicum, assessments, I even got distinctions. But I still had to sit for another English test to register in NSW”.

This was only because two of his Australian degrees did not meet the four-year study requirement.

He started teaching as a CRT later. The principal introduced him to others by saying, “This is our new Vietnamese English teacher”. He wasn’t offended, even when told that others had laughed upon hearing that—but he understood what it signified.

“It shows what people expect: that someone like me isn’t usually seen as an English teacher”.

It’s not just language being measures

What’s being measured isn’t just language. It’s legitimacy. It’s the right to belong.

The AITSL migration guidelines suggest legitimacy flows from only a handful of countries—Australia, Canada, Ireland, NZ, the UK, and the USA—excluding many English-medium post-colonial nations like the Philippines, India, Kenya, Ghana, and Singapore.

Similarly, the “Teaching in Australia” guide constructs the ideal teacher through phrases like “Australian teachers must…”, framing competence as nationalised and native. Even appeals to “multicultural classrooms” fail to acknowledge migrant teachers as co-creators of this richness. Their linguistic and cultural knowledge is seen less as a resource, more as a hurdle.

This mirrors what Sender and colleagues call epistemic monolingualism: a worldview that centres standardised English and Western pedagogies as the only legitimate forms of knowledge. Yet many migrant teachers resist this framing through what we call Hybrid Professional Becoming. They don’t simply assimilate—they reimagine themselves cosmopolitan teachers of English. They engage in translanguaging, build solidarity, and develop culturally responsive pedagogies.

Natalie, a Bangladeshi teacher, shared:
“Sometimes I switch to English, Chittagonian, Jessore dialect, or what’s called standard or non-standard Bangla—not for fluency, but to build trust. It’s about connection and recognising different ways of knowing”.

Quang, reflecting on his students, said:
“They’d ask me, ‘Is my accent okay?’ I’d say, ‘Your English is beautiful. Don’t worry about it’.”

These teachers are already transforming classrooms

Such affective, relational practices disrupt top-down discourses of “support.” These teachers aren’t waiting to belong—they’re already transforming classrooms.

Yet policy rarely reflects this reality. Instead, it reinforces rigid standards and racialised assumptions. As Anthony Welch notes, fast-tracking applicants from English-dominant nations won’t solve the workforce crisis. Australia must confront the systemic devaluation of those already here.

The AARE Election Statement (2025) calls for equity, multilingualism, and recognition of teaching as a global profession. But first, we must name the problem: Australia’s teaching workforce remains bordered by accent, passport, and memory.

So let’s stop asking whether migrant teachers are “ready for Australia”.

Let’s ask whether Australia is ready to learn from the teachers already here— fluent not only in English, but in empathy, hybridity, and the courage to reimagine education.

Biographies from left to right

Nashid Nigar teaches at the University of Melbourne and brings 20+ years of experience in language and literacy education, academic writing, and teacher development. Her PhD at Monash Education, awarded the prestigious 2024 Mollie Holman Medal, introduced the framework of Hybrid Professional Becoming—advancing research in multilingual curriculum, teacher identity, and curriculum justice. Her work, grounded in epistemic diversity and equity, informs national policy and supports culturally and linguistically diverse educators globally.

Lilly Yazdanpanah is a lecturer in the School of Education at La Trobe University. Her research focuses on equity and social justice in education, with a particular emphasis on teacher and student identity within English as an Additional Language (EAL) contexts. She has extensive experience teaching in undergraduate and postgraduate teacher education programs across the Middle East, Europe, Central America, and Australia. Before joining La Trobe, she held teaching and research positions at the Faculty of Education, Monash University, specialising in TESOL and General Education.

Sender Dovchin is a Senior Principal Research Fellow and ARC Fellow at Curtin University. Her research focuses on linguistic racism and the empowerment of CALD youth in Australia. She holds a PhD and MA from UTS and serves as Editor-in-Chief of the Australian Review of Applied Linguistics. Recognised as a leading scholar in Language & Linguistics, she has published six books and numerous papers in top international journals.

Rachel Wilson is a leading scholar in education and social impact at the University of Technology Sydney. With a background in psychology, teaching, and research methodology, her work spans education systems, curriculum reform, equity, and leadership. Rachel has extensive experience in research training, educational evaluation, and policy advising, and is committed to advancing quality and justice in education.

Alex Kostogriz is the professor in Languages and TESOL Education within the Faculty of Education at Monash University. He currently serves as the Associate Dean (International) within the faculty. Alex’s ongoing research endeavours are centred around the professional practice and ethics of language teachers, as well as the realms of teacher education and the early experiences of early career educators.

new teacher in front of a blank blackboard

Why so many new teachers feel unprepared – and what we can do about it

May 29, 2025initial teacher educationAARE blog, initial teacher education, Nicole Brownlie, University of Southern Queensland (USQ)

Every year, thousands of new teachers step into Australian classrooms full of passion and preparation. But many feel unprepared for one of the most complex aspects of the job: designing and delivering assessment.

Assessment drives teaching, informs reporting, and defines student success. Yet universities often don’t teach future teachers how to create assessments. Schools expect them to learn “on the job” — sometimes with little support, inconsistent mentoring, or recycled task sheets. This isn’t just an oversight. It’s a systemic issue that affects teacher wellbeing, teaching quality, and student outcomes.

In my doctoral research, I surveyed 116 early career secondary teachers across Queensland. Their responses tell a story we need to hear — not just as educators, but as a system that expects teachers to uphold quality and equity while often failing to support them in doing so.

“Thrown in the deep end”

Some teachers said they had to write major assessments within their first term — even though no one had shown them how. Others said their schools re-used outdated tasks, leaving them with no chance to build the skill at all.

One teacher told me:
“I was expected to write a Year 11 exam in my first six weeks — but I’d never created an assessment, not even in prac.”

Another said:
“There’s no consistency. Some people get help, others just copy what’s been done before. It doesn’t feel like a professional process.”

These experiences weren’t outliers. Teachers in my study reported big differences in how much support they received, how confident they felt, and whether they even got to participate in assessment design.

When that support is missing, assessment becomes something done to teachers — not something they actively shape. That disconnect erodes professional identity and increases the likelihood of burnout, especially in high-pressure schools or senior subjects.

It’s about confidence — not just competence

Most teachers understood what good assessment looked like. They had the theoretical knowledge. But many lacked confidence — the belief that they could make sound professional decisions.

That matters. Assessment literacy rests on three key pillars:

Competence — the knowledge and skills
Opportunity — the chance to practise
Confidence — the belief in your ability to decide and act

When one of these is missing, it becomes hard to create fair, valid, and meaningful assessments.

Confidence stood out as the weakest link. Even capable teachers felt hesitant, especially in high-stakes contexts like the senior years. They didn’t always trust themselves — and without that trust, they struggled to take ownership of assessment. One participant described being reluctant to suggest alternatives or raise concerns about task quality, even when they saw problems, simply because they feared being perceived as unqualified.

In other words, the issue wasn’t knowledge — it was voice.

Why it matters

Australia faces a teacher workforce crisis, and early career teachers leave at higher rates than any other group. Many factors drive this, including workload, policy pressure, and a lack of recognition. But feeling underprepared for the realities of classroom life plays a major role.

We can’t treat assessment as a “soft skill.” It shapes how students learn and what they can show. If we don’t support early career teachers to develop assessment literacy, we risk harming both teacher morale and student equity.

What’s more, a lack of assessment preparedness doesn’t just hinder early career teachers — it limits students. When assessments don’t reflect curriculum goals, learning becomes disconnected. When tasks are unclear or inequitable, students from already-marginalised backgrounds are disproportionately disadvantaged. Supporting teachers to design assessment well is not just about teacher growth — it’s about justice.

So, what can we do?

Here’s where we can start — and where my research suggests we need to act:

Put assessment creation back into teacher education
Some universities dropped assessment design from their courses after national accreditation changes. We need to bring it back. Every graduate should leave with experience designing tasks, writing rubrics, and reviewing quality. This doesn’t have to mean standalone courses — it can be embedded across subjects and placements. But it must be deliberate, structured, and supported.
Make assessment part of induction and mentoring
Schools tend to focus mentoring on behaviour or curriculum. But assessment matters too. New teachers need support to co-design tasks, get feedback, and reflect with more experienced colleagues. Structured conversations about assessment should be normalised — not left to chance or avoided due to time pressure. When we foreground assessment, we also elevate professional dialogue and reflection.
Use shared tools — but not as checklists
I developed a set of quality indicators for teacher-created assessment: valid, reliable, fair, authentic, and flexible. These indicators of effective assessment can guide professional conversations and reflection when used as tools for growth — not just compliance. They’re not about ticking boxes. They’re about building a common language and helping teachers feel equipped to ask: “Is this good? Why? What would make it better?”
Treat confidence as a goal, not a given
We need to stop saying “they just aren’t ready” and instead support teachers to develop their identity and voice. Confidence isn’t arrogance — it’s a sign of professionalism. We can build it through trust, feedback, and shared practice. Research into collaborative professional development models shows that when teachers feel confident, they act with more purpose, advocate more strongly for learners, and remain in the profession longer.

Looking forward

Teaching is skilled, relational, and dynamic work. Assessment design sits at the heart of that work — not on its margins.

If we want early career teachers to stay, grow, and thrive, we need to treat assessment design as core business. That means making it visible, valued, and well-supported — in universities, in standards, and in schools.

Preparedness isn’t just about knowing the content. It’s about having the confidence, the opportunity, and the belief that you’re not doing this work alone.

Nicole Brownlie is a teacher educator and researcher at the University of Southern Queensland. Her work explores teacher development, assessment literacy, and early career transitions. Her recent doctoral research investigated how early career teachers in Queensland understand, create, and reflect on summative assessment. You can find her on LinkedIn.

What we should know about the threats to Harvard?

May 26, 2025DEI, diversity, equity in higher education, inclusionAARE blog, Deakin University, DEI, Harvard, Tebeje Molla

Higher education is the latest frontline in Trump’s culture war—and fairness may be its first casualty. In a stunning 11 April 2025 letter, addressed to Harvard University, officials from multiple federal agencies demand nothing short of a cultural purge. Dismantle all DEI efforts, implement ‘merit-only’ admissions and hiring, and subject the university to ongoing surveillance-level audits to ensure compliance.

Weaponising ‘Merit’ Perpetuates Injustice in Education

The government demands Harvard must “cease all preferences based on race, colour, religion, sex, or national origin”. It must also shutter all DEI-related infrastructure, audit every hiring and admissions decision, and certify in writing that only meritocratic standards have been applied.

Similar mandates have been sent to Columbia University, the University of North Carolina, and Stanford University. These letters follow a now-familiar pattern: enforce a singular ideological vision that sidelines equity and weaponizes merit.

Harvard firmly rejected the demand. This came as little surprise given the growing calls for well-resourced universities to resist Trump’s intimidation. In retaliation, the Trump administration escalated its punitive measures. It froze approximately $2.2 billion in federal funding and initiating steps to revoke Harvard’s tax-exempt status. On May 22, 2025, the Department of Homeland Security revoked Harvard’s certification under the Student and Exchange Visitor Program (SEVP). This effectively barred the university from enrolling international students. .

The loss of funding, if extended across the sector, could deepen existing disparities in educational opportunities, particularly for low-income and minority students, thereby exacerbating barriers to access and success in higher education.

Now Harvard is suing the Trump administration.

The Myth of Meritocracy

To understand the threat these letters pose, we must first interrogate what ‘merit’ really means. In popular usage, merit implies a neutral, objective measure of individual talent and effort. In educational settings, it is commonly reduced to test scores and other standardized metrics. But as a growing body of scholarship has shown, these metrics are far from neutral.

In The Tyranny of Meritocracy, Lani Guinier argues that standardised tests are not measures of intelligence or potential. Instead, they are proxies for privilege—predicting parental income better than future performance. Likewise, in The Meritocracy Trap, Daniel Markovits details how elite meritocratic institutions reinforce class stratification by rewarding access rather than ability.

In this light, insistence on ‘pure’ merit is deeply misleading. It erases history and context, treating unequal outcomes as evidence of unequal effort. It ignores how merit is built over time—through supportive learning environments, stable housing, nutrition, mentorship, and emotional security. The focus on merit dismisses early disadvantage and inhibits the cultivation of talent.

Merit is Nurtured, Not Discovered

The concept of meritocracy presumes that talent naturally rises to the top. But talent doesn’t flourish in a vacuum. It must be cultivated through consistent access to opportunity, support, and inclusion—conditions that are often absent in structurally disadvantaged communities.

When merit is stripped of its social and historical context, it becomes a dangerous fiction. Rewarding achievement without acknowledging the unequal conditions under which it is attained serves only to entrench existing inequalities. A test score, for instance, is not an objective measure of potential; it is a snapshot shaped by access to resources, quality of preparation, levels of stress, and available social capital.

As Reardon has shown, income inequality is strongly correlated with educational achievement gaps, with the advantages of high-income families compounded over time through enriched learning environments and better-resourced schools. A student growing up in an overcrowded home, attending an underfunded school, and dealing with chronic insecurity must navigate immense challenges just to show up.

Why Merit Needs a Reality Check

There are many reasons for society to be cautious about the ideology of meritocracy.

First, merit without context reinforces inequality. When policies treat merit as a pure, context-free measure of worthiness, they inadvertently reward privilege and punish adversity. Being reasonable about merit means acknowledging the uneven playing field and incorporating social context into how we recognise potential.

Second, merit is not a static quality that individuals possess—it is a product of opportunity, mentorship, support, and institutional access. As Nobel Prize-winning economist and philosopher Amartya Sen argues, fairness in outcomes requires fairness in the development of capabilities. Recognizing this means shifting away from rigid metrics toward more holistic assessments that appreciate diverse forms of intelligence and contribution. A reasonable approach to merit understands it as nurtured, not inherent, and therefore calls for proactive measures to expand the conditions under which merit can flourish.

Third, an uncritical adherence to meritocracy can ossify privilege, reinforce structural disadvantage, and strip away the very empathy and solidarity necessary for democratic life. Sociologist Michael Young coined the term meritocracy to warn society that excessive faith in merit can breed new forms of elitism and exclusion.

What Should be Done

True merit is not discovered; it is developed. It is not individual; it is social. It is not neutral; it is shaped by history. To honour merit is to invest in justice, support inclusion, and cultivate excellence everywhere—not just in those already deemed deserving. Meritocracy needs to be contextualised.

The backlash politics unfolding in the United States is already undoing decades of progress in civil rights and social justice. Australia cannot afford to be complacent. We must remain vigilant to ensure that similar regressive currents do not take hold in our institutions.

In particular, Australian universities must recognise that true merit does not emerge in a vacuum. It must be actively cultivated through equity-driven supports and inclusive policies—not simply assumed through standardised tests or conventional metrics that often reflect entrenched privilege more than potential.

With its renewed mandate to govern, Labor must now deliver on its promise to break down “the invisible brick wall” that “stops a lot of people from poor families, the outer suburbs, and the regions from getting to the front door“.

Tebeje Molla is a senior lecturer in the School of Education, Deakin University. His research areas include student equity, teacher professional learning, and policy analysis. His work is informed by critical sociology and the capability approach to social justice and human development.

teaching reading to a small group of children

Teaching reading: We asked 500 Australian teachers what they needed right now

May 22, 2025teaching readingAARE blog, Edith Cowan University, Helen Adam, Primary English Teaching Association Australia

Amid a growing national debate about how reading should be taught in schools, the Primary English Teaching Association Australia (PETAA) wanted to hear from teachers tasked with this critical work. Too often, these discussions unfold without the insight of education professionals themselves – despite being the ones guiding young learners every day. PETAA, a not-for-profit association supporting primary English and literacy teachers, launched a national survey last year with a simple but powerful goal: to listen to teachers.

We heard from 500 educators working in primary English across systems, sectors and contexts. Their responses painted a rich, layered picture – one marked by deep professional knowledge, strong alignment with research-informed practice, and a clear call for greater support.

Teachers are using evidence-informed approaches – consistently

Our survey revealed widespread use of explicit, teacher-led reading instruction.That’s contrary to claims reading instruction in Australia lacks rigour or consistency, . Over 80% of respondents reported teaching reading this way at least three to four times a week, with daily instruction the norm in Foundation classrooms.

Importantly, teachers are adjusting focus as students progress: placing a strong emphasis on phonics, phonemic awareness and decoding in the early years, then transitioning to more complex work with vocabulary and comprehension in upper primary. Nearly every single Foundation teacher (98%) reported addressing the five core pillars of reading instruction – phonemic awareness, phonics, fluency, vocabulary and comprehension – within their literacy blocks.

But the literacy block is only one part of the story. Teachers shared how they embed reading instruction across the curriculum, using subject-specific texts in HASS, Science and other areas to build comprehension and vocabulary. Reading is woven through the school day. It’s not confined to a single lesson, they said.

Differentiation is essential – and unsustainable without support

Differentiation emerged as a central theme – both in its importance and in the challenges it presents. Teachers are managing classrooms where reading levels can range from significantly below year level to well above. They’re grouping students flexibly, selecting tailored texts, and adjusting instruction in real time.

Many are doing this with limited resources and even less time. The use of support staff – often crucial for delivering one-on-one or small-group reading instruction – is uneven across schools. Teachers told us they know what students need. The question is whether they have the support structures in place to meet those needs consistently.

The case for a whole-school approach

One of the most significant findings from the survey was that only half of teachers reported working within a consistent whole-school approach to reading instruction. For early career teachers in particular, this lack of coherence can mean entering a classroom without guidance, mentorship, or shared goals across year levels.

Teachers told us they want greater alignment – not in the form of rigid programs, but through school-wide frameworks that ensure continuity and collaboration. This includes shared language around reading pedagogy, consistent expectations, and time to work together across teams.

A whole-school approach supports more than instructional consistency – it builds a culture of collective responsibility for student learning. It enables schools to embed professional collaboration into their routines and create space for peer learning, observation, and reflective dialogue. Without it, even experienced teachers are left to navigate complex decisions in isolation.

In the national debate, teacher voice must be front and centre

Public discussions about reading instruction in Australia are often marked by polarising headlines and competing narratives. What’s often missing is the voice of teachers – those with the daily responsibility of guiding students through the complex and rewarding process of learning to read.

The data from this survey shows that Australian teachers are not only engaging with evidence-informed practices, but also making thoughtful, responsive decisions that reflect the needs of their students and contexts. One teacher told us, “We have to know the content and how to teach it – and we have to know our students and how they learn.” This balance of professional knowledge and contextual responsiveness is at the heart of effective practice.

In place of simplistic debates about methods or programs, we need a sustained national focus on the conditions that support high-quality teaching. That starts with recognising the expertise of the profession.

What teachers told us they need

Across the responses, a clear set of priorities emerged. Teachers aren’t asking for one-size-fits-all programs or sweeping mandates. They’re asking for system-level support that enables professional practice to flourish.

They told us they need:

Consistent whole-school frameworks that provide guidance while allowing for teacher autonomy.
Time and resources to differentiate effectively, especially for students learning English as an additional language or those requiring extension.
Access to diverse and inclusive texts, along with professional learning on how to use them well.
Mentoring and support for early career teachers, including opportunities to observe effective practice.
Protected time for professional collaboration, not just individual preparation or online search.

PETAA’s resources and professional learning are built around the pillars teachers told us they rely on most: practical classroom strategies, curriculum-aligned guidance, support for differentiation, and access to diverse, high-quality texts. These play a critical role in supporting teachers and schools.

We work alongside educators – not above them – to support consistent, whole-school approaches and foster the professional confidence and collaboration that teachers say they need. This survey was not a standalone project. It is part of our ongoing commitment to listen, respond and advocate for the conditions that enable effective reading instruction in every Australian classroom.

A call to listen – and act

This survey doesn’t claim to be the final word on reading instruction. It’s a snapshot – a reflection of the professional knowledge, challenges and needs expressed by 500 Australian teachers.

But the message is clear: when it comes to reading instruction, teacher voice matters. And in the midst of national discussion, it’s more important than ever that those voices aren’t sidelined.

Teachers know what high-quality reading instruction looks like. They are doing the work, often against the odds. Our challenge now – as systems, policymakers, and education researchers – is to ensure they are heard, supported, and trusted.

Helen is an associate professor and researcher in the School of Education, Edith Cowan University. She has a background in primary education and has worked and researched in literacy and socially just education since 2007. She is the president, Primary English Teaching Association Australia (PETAA)

Image of globe sitting on top of open book

Please, please! Let’s avoid the calculator analogy now

May 19, 2025artificial intelligenceAARE blog, AI literacy, Edith Cowan University, Juliana Peloche

I have recently completed my PhD and secured a position as a senior learning adviser at Edith Cowan University, focusing specifically on AI literacy. Artificial intelligence has been my passion for the past 6.5 years—well before generative AI became a fixture in our educational landscape. During this time, the ‘technological terrain’ has shifted dramatically.

Since starting in this new role, I’ve had the opportunity to focus exclusively on AI in education. While my PhD research centered on AI, I was previously juggling multiple roles that didn’t afford me the same depth of reflection I’m experiencing at ECU. There, I can also be surrounded by curious minds that challenge my thoughts with questions and resources. Some of them, I am bringing to you in this post.

Last week, a colleague shared an article by Jason Lodge drawing an analogy between e-bikes and generative AI. I initially found the comparison brilliant until I read Joanna Kai’s thoughtful complement to the article. These contrasting perspectives prompted me to examine my own struggle to maintain a positive outlook on AI as a beneficial educational tool. Or at least purely beneficial.

AI is Not Just Another Technology

I’ve never viewed AI as a saviour, but my perspective was further challenged when listening to a podcast I’ve followed for years. AI in Education is a podcast that features Dan Bowen (a Microsoft employee) and Ray Fleming (more connected to industry than education). Ray suggested that educators’ reluctance to incorporate AI mirrors historical resistance to other technologies. He claimed we’ve seen this pattern before with Google—when teachers feared it would do students’ homework—and with calculators.

Not the calculator analogy again! We must stop using these simplistic comparisons that minimise AI’s capabilities and invalidate educators’ legitimate concerns. Google could never complete a student’s homework in its entirety, but generative AI can. It can complete assessments and even create (or complete) entire courses, as demonstrated by tools like OpenAI’s Operator, as Leon Furze shows us. Could we compare AI more to a knife than a calculator? I will explain why. Bear with me.

While Jason and Joanna offer insightful analogies comparing generative AI to “e-bikes for the brain,” equating this technology with calculators and search engines is fundamentally misleading. AI is here to stay—we all acknowledge this reality. However, from the beginning, this technology has been imposed upon teachers with minimal consultation. Now, educators are tasked with evaluating whether these tools enhance educational experiences (Brazil et al., 2025) without adequate preparation for making such assessments. The pervasive notion that AI is “just like a calculator” is not only incorrect but harmful.

AI literacy: The Real Impact on Educators and Students

My role involves helping staff and students use AI responsibly in their academic pursuits. Daily, I encounter individuals experiencing anxiety about the future. They fear their limited understanding, their inability to keep pace with rapid technological changes amid numerous other responsibilities, and the potential risks to themselves and their students. Though I strive to maintain optimism about AI, I recognise that it represents something far more complex than a calculator.

I am encouraged by the ways other institutions are supporting their communities in developing AI literacy. While the adoption of calculators in education followed a relatively uniform path, the integration of AI presents a much broader range of applications and challenges. This diversity means that there is no single, universal approach to establishing best practices for AI use; instead, institutions must tailor their strategies to fit specific needs and contexts.

For instance, Messri and Crockett provide practical, step-by-step guidance for implementing AI tools in educational settings. Their recommendations closely align with those of Jonathan Brazil and others. They emphasize the importance of clear policies and ongoing support for effective AI integration, a clear path to follow.

These studies illustrate how institutions can draw on established frameworks while adapting to the unique opportunities and challenges AI presents. Hillary Wheaton, in her podcast for AARE Technology SIG, highlights RMIT’s impressive initiatives to support staff and students—approaches I’ve considered adapting.

We Need Better Metaphors and More Caution

While some contribute meaningful analogies and share effective practices, we should abandon comparisons between generative AI and car engines “that you don’t need to understand to operate,” calculators, or search engines. Generative AI is unprecedented in our educational history.

I’m concerned about the aggressive advocacy urging educators to “play” with these tools and “give them a try” without proper understanding. Would we encourage someone to drive a car before obtaining a license, understanding traffic rules, or demonstrating competence? Why, then, are we expected to implement tools without comprehending them? Why is there such hostility toward cautious educators and students? How can we ask users to evaluate these tools when they lack the literacy to do so?

AI literacy: Taking a Measured Approach

I believe we need to proceed cautiously. E-bikes can be dangerously fast, especially when modified. While they offer valuable benefits for certain users (allowing less physically able individuals to access previously unreachable places), each case warrants careful consideration. Similarly, AI offers tremendous potential benefits (such as supporting children with special needs). But it can also generate the anxiety and harm I’ve described.

I wish I could offer a more unconditionally positive perspective. My analogies rarely cast AI as an unambiguous hero. Instead, I see it more like a knife—a tool that can spread butter on bread or harm others, depending on how it’s wielded.

Educators’ concerns shouldn’t be minimised, and our analogies should accurately reflect the uncertainty that characterises AI’s current role in education.

Juliana Peloche is a senior Learning adviser at Edith Cowan University specialising in AI literacy. With a doctorate in AI in education from the University of Wollongong and over 20 years of teaching experience across Brazil, Chile, and Australia, she bridges emerging technologies with educational practice. Her research on stakeholder perceptions of AI uniquely positions her to guide institutional adaptation to technological change. At ECU, she leads initiatives to enhance AI literacy among faculty, staff, and administrators, drawing on her extensive experience in institutional leadership and policy development.

Researchers, teachers aren’t reading your stuff now. Here’s what they think would help

May 15, 2025professional development of teachers, talking about teaching, Teachers' workAARE blog, Bronwyn Reid O'Connor, Ellen Larsen, Steven Kolber, Teachers' voices, University of Southern Queensland (USQ), University of Sydney, Victoria University

The Australian Association of Research in Education (AARE) Teachers’ Work and Lives Special Interest Group launched the second in a Teachers’ Voice Panel Series last year. It provides time and space for educational researchers to listen to teachers about what research matters to them. In this follow-up panel, six experienced teachers from government and independent schools across Queensland, Victoria and New South Wales came together online to share their ideas about research and their work. What emerged amid this discussion was a range of useful suggestions for researchers looking to engage with teachers and schools through their work.

Academics are constantly being asked to engage with the public – but that can be tough. It’s a tough struggle trying to publish in top-tier journals and balance that with external engagement, translational research, engaging with real people at the coal face.

We work on disseminating research through various avenues with the hopes that it reaches teachers – and contributes to change. But does it?

The road blocks between teachers and research

When speaking to the panel about how teachers connected with research, many roadblocks for teachers were raised. It almost goes without saying that many of the constraints and challenges faced by teachers in accessing current research are not within the locus of control for researchers, with time being the core challenge.

Amelia Nemeth notes that “I feel a challenge for classroom teachers is the time constraints and the demands of teaching leave little room for them to authentically engage with research.”

But beyond that, the panel raised that a major challenge they faced was when publications were not available as open-access.

Where Jessica Prouten emphasised that “Everything is hidden behind paywalls”.

Whilst Tom Mahoney also noted that “More research going open-access is really helping, so more of that!”

It was oftentimes presentations that made engaging with research overly onerous for teachers, with books providing a form of practical synthesis proposed as a clear alternative to the traditional research journal article.

To speak to teachers, synthesise the research

For Rebecca Russell-Saunders,“To sit down and read through a 23-page journal article, which is full of academic speak, can be daunting, I’d prefer to read a book written by someone whose synthesised the research applied it in the classroom – providing me with scenarios of how teachers have done it, so I can imagine how it would work in my setting.”

For Colin Jaques, “A book that summarises all of the research is quite useful – so I can bring those ‘nuggets of gold’ into faculty meetings, and we can say ‘what do we want to try’, and then come back and evaluate if that worked or not.”

Some of the teacher panel proposed that curation and synthesis were important, Cassandra Pride said that “It can be hard to know where to begin, so having a curation point would be lovely”

Amelia Nemeth finds that “[Research tends to be] …too theoretical and too disconnected from their practice… some dot-point summaries that they can put straight into their practice.”

Experienced teachers from the panel called for the importance of research that has clearly articulated implications for practice, and tangible directions for action.

Methodologies that respect teachers’ time

The panel also shared their insights regarding ideal methodologies and approaches that consider and value teachers time. With a focus on minimising surveys, many preferred interviews where possible.

Tom Mahoney believes, “You can never go wrong with just an interview, I’m more than happy to ramble on, and I think most teachers are like that…. Your talking is your thinking. But, I don’t like surveys, you know, Likert scales – I find them really limited and restrictive.”

Cassandra Pride concurred, “I agree, all of the interview research I’ve taken part in has helped me build connections. It’s exciting to speak beyond our own setting and system!”

Rebecca Russell-Saunders preference is for “Maybe a short screening survey at the start, 7 minutes would be ideal.”

A counterpoint was provided for the utility and convenience of completing surveys online. Such as Jessica Prouten, who said that, “I prefer surveys because I can do it at home, in the jammies, watching MasterChef, compared to an interview where I have to be dressed nicely and peopling with people, rather than being able to do things at a time convenient for me.”

As researchers know, the rise of altmetrics and a focus on impact has not always brought about the changes we may have hoped for; the consequence being that it can be challenging for teachers to know which researchers to turn to. A positive example of making research visible was provided as an exemplar that other researchers might explore.

Tom Mahoney suggests that, “Stephanie Westcott and her work on misogyny in schools has been really powerful, just knowing that’s ‘her thing’ – meant that when I had someone contact me about their experiences of this I could reach out and point them in the right direction.”

The ongoing challenge of journals being behind paywalls was one thing, but considerations of how researchers and Universities might do the work of sharing findings, perhaps at the organisational level was also highlighted. The use of social media for this purpose was proposed.

Jessica Prouten notes that, “It would be great if Universities could be doing more about journal accessibility, I loved the #edureading online reading group making journal articles accessible to us, but I’ve emailed academics to access articles, and no one ever responded to me – and that’s kind of sad.” Continuing she notes that, “Guidance from Universities around how they [teachers] could start journal article reading groups within their own schools… Is there a space for sharing research with teachers via social media?”

Small steps

A major trend within the discussion was around small steps that researchers could do to make their research work more classroom and school-friendly.

Cassandra Pride wondered that, “Wouldn’t it be great if education research required a precise, a one-pager, of how this research relates to school – to avoid reinterpretation, an infographic or something similar would be amazing.”

Amelia Nemeth suggests that, “Practical summaries, people who want a quick read to put things into practice”.

Tom Mahoney continues that, “Twitter was a really useful thing, a really good place to see that research distilled into short snippets – I made many connections there. LinkedIn is a great place to reach out to researchers.”

To conclude, the teachers on the panel, not surprisingly, enjoyed the opportunity to join in the discussion and being put into the empowering position of being asked for their input.

Rebecca Russell-Saunders concluded that, “Teachers feel that researchers aren’t asking us, what would you like?”

How might the work of researchers be shifted to meet the teaching profession and schools where they are?