AI in the Composition Classroom: Students Aren’t Stupid, They’re Scared

by Megan Nielsen

It’s 2025, and I work in a college writing center. Of course, AI usage has run rampant in recent years. ChatGPT haunts me at work, constantly looming over me. One day, I’m shown a paper in a document with the AI prompt still sitting at the top of the page. The next day, I ask students a question, and many of them pull up ChatGPT right in front of me, with no shame, and robotically plug the question in for a response. ChatGPT is the new Google, except now when I ask students for sources, they can’t point me to a website or journal. They can only refer me to their all-knowing robot god.

Image by Jonathan Kemper on Unsplash

Initially, when this phenomenon began a few years ago, I grew angry at my students and the world in general. I’d read all about AI, discussed it in my classes and with peers, and I couldn’t understand why anyone would want to use it. It steals material from artists and writers without their consent or compensation, it’s ruining the environment with its massive amounts of water usage, and worst of all, it isn’t even right most of the time. It makes up both sources and facts, and I wouldn’t stand for it. I knew I had to stop my students from conferring with the evil machine at any cost.

First, I tried lectures during my weekly sessions with groups of freshmen, a traditional “I talk, you listen” approach that I would quickly learn does next to nothing. Looking back, it’s obvious that starting with “I have the moral high ground and here’s why you’re wrong” wouldn’t work, but I didn’t know that there was any other way to approach it. I was so blinded by my disgust with AI (that I still hold, mind you, but I’m calmer now) that I came to the table with only anger. I would go on and on about the terrible drawbacks of ChatGPT, while never once opening the floor for discussion. I was met with blank stares at best, with most students never even looking up from their laptops.

I quickly got discouraged and depressed. I couldn’t see how I could convince my students to turn away if they knew the ethical implications and simply didn’t care. ChatGPT was here to stay, and it was time for me to accept the inevitable and get with the times. Right?

It was around this time that I realized I’d been going about it all wrong.

Image by Vitaly Gariev on Unsplash

After my AI-induced existential crisis, I was helping a student struggling with starting her paper. We were brainstorming topics and beginning on an outline, and she was clearly beginning to panic. As predicted, she suggested asking ChatGPT. Despite myself, I asked her why she thought that, barely withholding my annoyance. Her response shocked me:

“Because it’ll be better than what I could do.”

I had the sudden revelation that, amidst my crusade, I had never once considered the root problem for why students were turning to AI in such large numbers: they’re terrified of failure. They think that college-level writing is beyond them, and they’ll be ridiculed if they aren’t immediately perfect. They’re terrified of being wrong, and they’re convinced that the computers are smarter than they are. After acquiring this knowledge, I changed my approach to my students, and the improvement was immediate.

When a student appeared to be struggling, I got more involved than ever before. Previously, I’d been worried about being “too much,” in fear of my students thinking that I found them incompetent. However, I found that the majority of students embraced it when I dove into their projects headfirst right along with them. Together, we trudged through brainstorming, first drafts, complete overhaul revisions, proofreading, and any stage of the writing process you can think of. I learned two extremely valuable approaches for when students get stuck, and they’ve helped me get through nearly every situation:

1. Break every assignment down into parts. As small as possible. When students get overwhelmed and turn to AI, it’s because they can only see their work as a giant, herculean task, and they don’t know where to begin. Show them that a 10-page paper doesn’t get spit out in one go. You brainstorm, and then you draft, and then you change things, and you do it all over again. Even when a student can only stay with me for half an hour, I always make sure to send them off with the next steps. Many students can get going on their own if only they’re given a roadmap.
2. ​Emphasize the importance of the writing process. Ensure students that no one expects them to be perfect right off the bat, ESPECIALLY if they’re a freshman. Show them that college isn’t some magical place where geniuses go to perfect their already perfect work. Growth takes time, and it’s okay for your work not to be perfect off the bat. In fact, it’s okay for your work to outright suck. What matters is what you learn from it and how you can take criticism and improve in the future.

Image by Marissa Grootes on Unsplash

Even with my newfound approach, students do still sometimes turn to AI in front of me. When this happens, I no longer immediately turn to critique. Instead, I do the opposite, and find as much to praise about their work as I possibly can (no matter how hard that can be sometimes). I find something that shows them how smart they are, and how much they’re capable of when they put in the work. Nothing is more capable of reaching full potential than a student with newfound comfort and confidence. Nothing is more powerful than a student who believes in their own mind.