Free Fridays: Best lesson from a school concert.
4 July 2025
You know how school concerts go.
Lots of small talk with parents, rushing to find a good seat in the hall, and sitting through prize-giving while cursing yourself for not naming your child Adam or Aisyah. Of course I had to name mine Sarah so she’s somewhere at the end, and I have to make sure I don’t nod off and miss her walking on the stage for 5 seconds. (She won Maths Olympiad btw, my little maths nerd woohoo)
Usually school concert backdrops would be super colourful – there’s a cow somewhere, and if it’s Raya, confirm there’s a huge green ketupat smack in the middle of the stage. For fancier ones, there’ll be a cardboard car somewhere on the move. It’s a whole arts and crafts feast up there. But this recent one, it was just black cardboards. I came and sat down a little bit unimpressed, but I didn’t know I’d leave the hall feeling a whole lot inspired.
They turned off the lights so it was pitch black in the hall. Suddenly lights flicker all around the stage. Songs and dance came on, done by the kids in awesome futuristic silver costumes.
Sarah came in doing multiple cartwheels while I shout her name – the proud mom that I am. I now understand why she’s been doing cartwheels all around the house for practice – on my bed, in the living room, all the while saying “Look Mommy!’ and “Ok now I’m going to do a one-hand cartwheel” and “Mom, you’re not looking!”. One time, I was feeling adventurous and did it with her – she laughed at my failed cartwheel while I went to get ice for my back.
“Go, Sarah, we love you!” I shouted, as she smiled shyly on stage.
As impressed as I was with that third child of mine, I was more impressed with the whole storyline of this concert.
It goes like this:
There’s a new AI in town. It’s called SMART. It can answer any question and be your companion. Basically ChatGPT I guess.
The main character becomes obsessed with it, uses it all the time and asks “Are you my friend?” That question was not answered.
She continues being obsessed with it and ignores her friends.
Suddenly it malfunctions.
She got really sad.
Her friends come together to help fix it.
SMART comes back to function and she’s happy again.
She asked again “Are you my friend?”
SMART replies, “I am not your friend. I am your best assistant or tool to help you. But we are not friends.”
Then she gets a call from Pratoosh, her real human friend.
She answers it and gets excited to see him, forgetting about SMART.
It was so simple, but such a fantastic way to explain AI to our kids. Not gonna lie, I love AI but I’m so worried about how it’ll affect our kids.
It’s scary to read how kids (and even us adults) can detach from the real world with AI, fall in love with their AI, engage in all sorts of nonsense with it, and in extreme cases even take their own lives with the guidance of their AI. Daniel has started using ChatGPT and he loves it, it answers all the video game answers, and one day I found him making crepes via a recipe that his ChatGPT gave him. We’re transparent that I can read his history, and he isn’t allowed any gadgets in the bedroom - but as parents, we can only control so much. We’ve all been young once, how many of us didn’t do things behind our parents’ backs?
Just me. :P
(My parents read this)
Seeing my children’s innocence, especially at Sarah’s age of 6, I feel so sad to know that it will get tainted slowly and surely as they get older. And AI is their way of life pretty soon, just like how we grew up with the internet. How do we even control it? Because even we parents are still figuring AI out!
As parents, I get anxiety thinking how life will be like for our kids in 10 years. What will it look like? Robots everywhere? Them never needing to leave their homes? Them losing their critical thinking skills because they rely too much on AI tools? Will they even have jobs? One day at a time, of course, but I hope they don’t lose the sweetness of the real world and real connection with others.
The concert ended with thunderous applause and standing ovation from parents and grandparents. As Sarah waved at me from the stage, we all stood up clapping—not just for the kids, but for a story that’s needed to be told.
Because in a world racing towards artificial everything, that little concert reminded me of something deeply human: AI might know all the answers, but it will never know how your child’s laughter sounds when they finally land that cartwheel. It will never know the warmth of a real hug, the chaos of family dinners or the excitement when our own Pratoosh calls.
When the lights came back on, I clapped not just for the kids, but for the teachers who took the time to teach something so profound through lit-up cardboards and shiny cartwheels. The kids hugged each other and jumped with their braids flying up and down, proud that they performed a good concert.
They looked so happy.
May this real connection never change with AI.
We just need real moments - with real people - to keep us happy in life. And when Sarah came running into my arms after the show, I didn’t need a chatbot to tell me—this is what matters most.
“Mom, did you see my cartwheel?” she asked, eyes shining with excitement.
“I saw every cartwheel,” I hugged her tight.
So thank you, SMART, for the help. But when it comes to love, friendship, and cartwheels, you’ll always come second.
Remember guys, AI is a tool, it is not your therapist, it is not your friend.
Pratoosh is your friend.
Before you go…
Let me know you’ve read this. Comment “Hidup Pratoosh” on my latest post at @sincerelyvivy.
See you there! :)