Coming together to grouse and complain has always been the teacher's way–and 4Cs in Cleveland was full of frenetic worry this year. Every panel seemed to contain at least one presenter, if not all, concerned with generative AI. From a panel presentation on first year writing that included a survey for the audience to fill out asking about their “curiosity level” about generative AI, to initial studies showing that students are–yes–we’re shocked–almost all using AI, it was the topic everyone was discussing. Despair was in the air, but worrying in community saved the conference from being overwhelmingly centered on undesirable change.
Conversations about generative AI ranged from extremely apprehension to suggested classroom uses. Participants' approaches to the new technology also widely ranged from those who actively spurned the existence of AI to those thrilled with the potential of the technology. The majority of presenters and workshop leaders were facilitating discussions about how we talk about and regulate AI-use on our campuses. More AI-embracing participants suggested that AI prompts deepen student thinking “at key stages of writing” and assist teachers in giving feedback. A third group were conscientious objectors, looking for opportunities to “handcraft pedagogy” in the age of AI. This was the group I fell into when presenting Improv as an Antidote on the Teaching for Transfer panel.
As the new chair of the Teaching for Transfer standing group, I led a discussion about the ways we see Teaching for Transfer generally as an antidote to AI. I intended to have a colorful session including posters and markers, but conversations quickly devolved. While some worried that generative AI could replace the need for books, other’s concerns were more far-reaching: that students couldn't even get to school because of the high cost of transportation. At this, my tenth year at 4Cs, the energy was unmoored. As AI charges steadily forward, we don't know what we're facing yet and we don't know how our lives will change or what will be required of us. But in the midst of the unknown, the structure of standing groups and caucuses provided a place to safely vent.
The standing groups and caucuses are always a way to find community across contexts. The feminist caucus, which is a strong and centering presence at the conference, offered the possibility of community as they have in previous years: With chocolate, fabric, glitter, glue, flowers, and community conversation. (Pictured: Kath and her friend and fellow 4Cs presenter, Jennifer Killam, from Broward College, at the feminist caucus.) The Jewish caucus provided space for grief and fear and prayer in safety. At the end of a long day of listening to arguments about the integration of AI into pedagogy, we took refuge in the caucuses quietly going about the business of being human.
Melissa Ianetta, 2026 Program Chair, discussed in her welcome how her relationship to the 4Cs conference has changed over time. “Through service, collaboration, and sometimes difficult conversations, I learned how professional labor can foster both individual growth and collective possibility.” Collective possibility was just under the surface of every conversation, of every panel, of every workshop, and of every round table. It was possibility tinged with mistrust and disagreement, perhaps, but it was collective possibility. And I left with hope that our difficult conversations will result in our inevitable growth.
But I look forward to a time next year, or perhaps in another year, when there isn't so much mistrust and so much unknown. Perhaps compositionists will never determine our exact relationship to AI, but we will always know that our relationship to each other is strong, And that when it is time to grouse about the new problems writing instructors face, we will have each other to listen and learn from.
