Learning First, Leading with Heart: A Reflection on Becoming a Teacher in the Age of AI

I still remember how I felt in May 2025, sitting quietly in a training room in Banten, joining a week-long program on Coding and Artificial Intelligence (KKA). I came as a teacher who wanted to learn something new, but I also brought doubts I did not say aloud. AI sounded powerful, almost intimidating. I wondered if, one day, it would slowly push teachers to the margins of their own classrooms.

As the days passed, my fear did not disappear, but it changed. I began to see that AI does not replace what makes teaching meaningful. It does not notice when a student loses confidence. It does not understand why a child suddenly goes silent. Only teachers can do that. AI can assist, but it cannot care.

"AI does not understand children the way teachers do."

That understanding became even clearer when I was asked to serve as a facilitator for KKA teachers in Garut Regency and later across West Java. Standing among fellow teachers felt different from standing in front of students. I was not there to impress or instruct. I was there to listen.

Some teachers spoke with honesty and worry. They feared losing relevance. They feared becoming dependent on machines. I did not try to convince them quickly, because resistance is often rooted in love for the profession. I realized that fear does not mean refusal. It means teachers care deeply about their role.

At the same time, I met teachers who moved forward with quiet courage. One of them showed a simple attendance system powered by AI. It was not sophisticated. It was not perfect. But it represented something far more critical: confidence to try.

“The real change was not in the technology, but in the teacher’s confidence."

These contrasting experiences stayed with me. When I later facilitated a larger program in West Bandung Regency, I brought real stories into the discussion. Interestingly, the conversation shifted. Teachers spoke less about fear and more about reality. Limited devices. Weak internet connections. Schools that were not equally prepared. That was a powerful reminder that transformation must always respect context.

Through this journey, I learned that AI literacy is not merely a technical issue. It is a human one. It requires patience, empathy, and ongoing support. The most important work does not end when training ends. It begins afterward.

That is why I believe deeply in mentoring and community. Together with fellow facilitators, I helped forge a teacher community focused on strengthening KKA. It became a safe space to share, to fail, and to grow. When I was asked to serve as a mentor, I accepted not because I had all the answers, but because leadership sometimes means walking together, not walking ahead.

"Being a teacher leader means learning alongside others, not standing above them."

This work is closely tied to my long involvement with the ICT Volunteer (Relawan TIK) movement. Since 2002, I have worked with communities to strengthen digital literacy. In 2025, university students I taught joined schools to support AI literacy for younger learners. Watching teachers, students, and volunteers learn from each other reminded me that meaningful change is always collaborative.

Looking back, I now see that this journey with AI is not really about artificial intelligence. It is about identity. About courage. About reminding ourselves why we became teachers in the first place.

We cannot stop change from entering our classrooms. But we can choose how we respond to it. We can choose fear, or we can choose growth. As Trainer, our role is not to master every tool, but to model lifelong learning with humility and heart.

"AI will never replace teachers who are willing to keep learning."

And perhaps that is the most crucial lesson I carry forward. Before we ask our students to adapt to the future, we must be willing to learn first. That is how we lead. That is how we stay human in a digital world.