MTS, The Non-Vulcan Academy

BY ANDREW DAVIS

My April ended with two very different Tuesdays—and two very different speakers. One spoke about generative AI; the other, the Holocaust. At first glance, the topics seemed completely unrelated. Yet I’m still struck by the deep connection between them.

Eric Hudson spoke to our Board of Trustees on the penultimate Tuesday of April about the potential impact of generative AI on K-12 education. After outlining the evolving AI landscape, Hudson urged us to imagine a range of possible futures—and to consider the strategic implications of each. At one point, he referenced a 2009 Star Trek scene in which students stand in isolated pods, learning from an interactive simulation seemingly tailored to their every academic need.

When I later watched the scene, I had two immediate reactions. First, I realized that the earliest versions of the Vulcan Academy are already here. In the words of Stewart Brand, “This present moment used to be the unimaginable future.” My second reaction was revulsion. If that is the future of Mount Tamalpais School, then we will have failed in our approach to generative AI.

The following Tuesday, I joined our middle school students to hear a Holocaust survivor share his story. For nearly an hour, a 91-year-old man described his life in hiding, passing as a Catholic orphan. He spoke of his conflicted relationship with Judaism, Catholicism, and his evolving sense of identity. He honored the family that risked everything to protect him, and reflected on how long it took to see his own story as one worth telling. Over 100 early adolescents listened with full attention—something few speakers can command.

Authenticity. That’s the word I keep returning to.

It explains my reaction to both Tuesdays—the discomfort I felt envisioning a mechanized future of education, and the deep meaning of hearing a human story told with honesty and vulnerability. I often repeat the words, “AI is going to change everything about everything.” And I still believe that. But change doesn’t require us to lose what is most human. If anything, I believe that the rise of AI will push us to place even more value on what is real, shared, and deeply human. Authenticity will be at a premium.

Just as we were moved by the testimony of a Holocaust survivor, I hope we continue to cherish learning from—and with—our fellow humans: students, teachers, family members. By prioritizing human connection, we preserve the authenticity of the MTS experience and help our students recognize the dignity and worth of others. That kind of education doesn’t just enrich lives—it has the power to prevent harm, injustice, and even the atrocity of genocide.

Authenticity, and our community, hold tremendous potential. I look forward to realizing that potential together, as humans.

TGIAM is the blog of Andrew Davis, Head of School. TGIAM = Thank Goodness It's Almost Monday.