Presentations in the Age of AI: When Teaching Becomes Something More

We’re living in the age of AI, and let’s be honest—student presentations just aren’t what they used to be. Gone are the days when students would proudly take turns reading from a PowerPoint, nervously gripping cue cards or awkwardly balancing a tablet. Now, with AI doing much of the heavy lifting in generating content, the real challenge for educators is no longer the slides—it’s figuring out what the student has actually learned.

Teaching in the AI Era: A Balancing Act

Recently, I was assessing a unit that had only three students—a small group but an experience packed with insight. Two of the students had just arrived in the UK, completely new to the education system here. They were eager but overwhelmed—understandably so— and had jumped straight into university life—without much understanding of how anything here works. The third didn’t speak their native language, which made group work even more complicated. Add to that a six-week timeline for a block teaching, a complex assessment brief, cultural confusion, and the pressure to perform. By week five, they were still unsure about presentation task, they didn’t quite understand… and let’s just say, my role as an academic quickly evolved into something much more.

One student had come mainly for the international experience, but after just a short time in the UK, they were disillusioned. The jobs they found and the people they worked with left them feeling exploited and undervalued. They didn’t sugar-coat it: they said life here felt “unliveable.” The experience they’d hoped for turned into one of frustration and disappointment, and it was hard for them to stay focused on studies.

When Teaching Turns into... Mum Mode

It quickly became clear that this was not going to be a traditional teaching experience.

One student struggled with writing and even thinking in English. So I encouraged them to start in their native language—just get the ideas down—then think about how they’d explain it in English. Sometimes that helped. Other times, I explained concepts in their language, and they’d translate it back. It honestly felt like holding a child’s hand as they took their first steps through academic life here. And I mean that in the most affectionate, non-patronising way.

I was officially in “mum mode”—translating, simplifying, cheering them on when they got something right, and gently nudging them when they wandered off track. They were young, far from home, juggling part-time jobs to stay afloat, and I became their go-to person for everything from presentation help to emotional support.

AI… and the “Assessment Industry”

As if language and cultural barriers weren’t enough, we had to navigate the shadow economy of assessments. Former students are now running businesses helping new students “get through” assignments. For a fee, they’ll do the work. No effort. No learning. Just a file ready to submit. Combined with the temptation of AI tools like ChatGPT, it’s easy for students to feel like they don’t need to do the hard work. But as an educator, that’s terrifying. Because we’re not just assessing tasks—we’re trying to build thinkers, professionals, contributors.

So I pushed back. I explained how to use AI ethically: write first, edit later, cite everything. Use it as a tool, not a crutch. And definitely don’t pay someone else to do the learning you came here for.

Making Presentations Matter Again

Instead of the traditional format, I encouraged the students to create a roleplay—a real-life scenario/ case study (they must select) connected to the unit’s themes. We brought in storytelling, video clips, and dialogue. It made the topic feel relevant and gave them space to connect with the content in a more personal way. Of course, they needed help with every step—brainstorming, scripting, even how to structure their slides. So I sat with them, guided the process, and yes, occasionally told them to go to bed and come back with a clearer head tomorrow.

Student Reflection Task

Then came the Gibbs Reflective Cycle (1988)—a structured academic essay after the presentation; a challenge even for confident students, let alone those still adapting to UK academic expectations. For students unfamiliar with academic reflection (especially in a second language), this was like asking them to write a personal diary entry in Shakespearean English.

I sat with them again—helping them understand what it means to reflect, how to structure it, and how to connect their experience to theory. I explained how to describe the experience, evaluate it, and connect it to future learning. And yes, we used AI—but only after they had written something to work with to tidy up their grammar and phrasing. I even showed them how to cite it properly.

My Reflection

What stuck with me the most wasn’t their final presentation—it was the process. The emotional energy. The trust they placed in me. The moments when they’d light up because something finally made sense. And I had to ask myself: if three students needed this much time, energy, care, guidance, support, and encouragement to succeed, how are our university partners managing their cohorts? Especially when those students are facing the same barriers: unfamiliar systems, financial stress, culture shock, and the ever-growing influence of AI and paid shortcuts?

We say we believe in student-centred learning—but this experience reminded me that real student-centred teaching takes time, patience, and sometimes a full emotional investment.

Final Thought

Teaching in the AI age means doing far more than just covering content. It means explaining things in three different ways. It means gently redirecting focus when work takes a backseat to survival. It means translating not just words, but expectations, values, and confidence.

And yes, it sometimes means going full “mum mode”; hand holding, cheering, occasionally nagging, and reminding them (and myself) that learning is messy, personal, and powerful. I didn’t expect to be an academic and a mum in one role. But if that’s what it takes to help students truly learn? Well then—pass the academic parenting badge. I’ve earned it.