Monday Notes: Ai and Job Displacement

~ kegarland ~ 39 Comments

I knew when I wrote about Ai here, it was too late. By the time an idea or “new” technology has reached the masses…en masse, it is too late. By the time the news is talking about Ai, that means the powers that be have already decided how it will be integrated into society. Now, they’re just conditioning us to accept it.

While I’m still resisting in some ways (e.g., my Ai use is minimal), I’m moving forward in other ways. For example, I’m wondering about something I haven’t heard many people discuss—What are y’all gone do when Ai replaces your job?

This is not rhetorical. Job displacement due to Ai will impact you or someone you know.

I say this with confidence after reading Vishen Lakhiani’s newsletter. Lakhiani is the creator of Mindvalley. He is known for learning from thought leaders about how to do a multitude of things. Now that Ai has entered the chat, he is learning about how this type of technology will influence us. And, as usual, he is telling society about it.

After meeting with technology “visionaries,” like Peter Diamandis, and dare I write his name, Elon Musk, Lakhiani was provided with a 10-year outlook on how Ai is going to impact us as a whole. We’re at the top of Wave 1: Automation and Job Displacement, which began last year and is predicted to end around 2028.

Job displacement is going to cause intense discomfort; therefore, I suggest we ask ourselves these three questions before/as it occurs:

#1: Who am I without my job?

Many of us were taught that working a job is life. We were also conditioned to believe that whatever we did for a living was tied to who we were. I am not exempt from this thought. When I was a high school English teacher, I absorbed a teacher identity; I embodied what it meant to be a HS English teacher, even when I wasn’t standing in front of a whiteboard. Oftentimes, my husband would stop me mid-sentence and remind me that I “wasn’t his teacher” lol

Eventually, I had to process who I was as a human being. Being a teacher, and eventually, a professor, was the way I made money in this capitalist system. It wasn’t who I was, as a person. Instead, I began using other words: I am a creator; I am a communicator; I am an educator, because no matter what I do, I am going to educate. But being an educator isn’t always tied to a paycheck.

#2: Who am I if I am not making X amount of money?

Speaking of paychecks, many of us were also taught we must make a specific amount of money to yield a lifestyle. Subsequently, some of our lifestyles are inextricably linked to our self-worth. Well, mass job displacement is going to level the majority of us. But get this…the need for money isn’t going away, just the way we receive it. Technology experts are saying we will need a universal basic income (UBI). Remember that term? Andrew Yang ran a political platform centered on UBI, and US citizens scoffed. It seemed to be a ridiculous thought to hand out a thousand dollars a month to citizens. Not so much now, except the idea is more like $36,000 per year.

Let that shit sink in.


Who will you be if you are receiving $3,000 from the government? Who are you if you are no longer making 50k, 75k, or over 100k a year? It’s best to get this sorted out now, before it’s real.

#3: What will I do if I don’t have to work?

A couple of years ago, I had a convo with a mentee about Ai.

“Well, what are people going to do if they’re not working?” she wondered.

This is a valid question, especially for many of us who were raised to believe we are born to suffer as cogs in the wheels of a capitalist system.

I know it may sound very Pollyanna-ish, but here’s what I’m thinking:

I’m hoping people will now realize they can do whatever they want to do. Maybe, you can pick up some yarn and knit the idea swirling around in your brain. Maybe, we can begin paying attention to the children we brought into the world. Maybe you can start a garden and grow some food.

Whatever it is, I hope now is the time we are fully actualized as human beings, instead of people running around like little ants, doing what an overseer at a company or institution has ordered us to do.

I mean, if Ai is allegedly doing all menial tasks, then maybe that will liberate our brains and souls; maybe now the two can work in tandem to envision a life we’re meant to manifest.

Resources

Washington Post: See Which Jobs Are Most Threatened By AI and Who May Be Able to Adapt (You can put in your job title and see the likelihood of AI taking over that job)

Mindvalley Blog: A Stunning Prediction for the Next 10 Years

The Diary of a CEO: Godfather of AI: We Have 2 Years Before Everything Changes!

Upcoming Events

~ kegarland

I’ve turned comments off because this is for informational purposes only. I have two upcoming events: VOICES: BIPOC Adoptees Author Reading (in person in Portland, OR) and Black African Diaspora Adoptee Network (BADAN) Book Club (virtual).

The first event, VOICES: BIPOC Adoptees Author Reading is in person in Portland, Oregon on April 23, 2026.

  • You do not have to be adopted to attend this event.
  • You do not have to have a connection to adoption to attend this event.
  • Yes, I will be in person, live and in color.
  • Please register here, if you are interested and can come: REGISTRATION.
  • If you are not interested, perhaps you could send this to someone who would be.

The second event, BADAN Book Club is virtual on May 31, 2026, 11:00 AM-1:30 (PST); however, please respect the following:

  • This is exclusively for people who are Black and Adopted (this includes biracial adopted people).
  • This is exclusively for people who have read In Search of a Salve: Memoir of a Sex Addict.
  • This is exclusively for Black, adopted people who are members of BADAN.
  • Read more about BADAN HERE. Join BADAN HERE if you are Black and adopted (including same race, transracial/interracial, domestic, trans/international).
  • If you do not fit this description, please send this to a Black adopted person who may be interested.

More About K E Garland

Monday Notes: When I Grow Up…

~ kegarland ~ 66 Comments

2015

… I want to be a yoga instructor, but not just any ole yoga instructor. I want to teach kids. I want to show children how to ground themselves when they are feeling a little wonky; how to regulate their emotions; how to abandon their devices for one hour; how to be present with themselves and others. Children will range from six-to-sixteen years old. They will meet with me once a week as I usher them into a different lifestyle than what the world has offered.

I thought this years ago; however, I didn’t know how or if I could manifest it. I was steeped in doctoral debt with no escape. One way to repay was to be a part of the public student loan forgiveness program (PSLF), which decreases monthly payments and assures liberation after ten years of service; however, I had to work in a public service field. For me, that meant being a professor (or returning to high school teaching) because public schools and colleges/universities are considered public service jobs. So, I talked myself out of the ridiculousness of teaching yoga and did what I thought I had to do.

2015-2025

Teaching yoga fades into a distant memory.

2026

After I quit the teaching job in Costa Rica, I decided to meditate three times a day and practice asanas at a studio, so I could figure out what in the who-hay hell I wanted to do with my life. Day 1, the idea to become a children’s yoga teacher returned. As a clairaudient person, I oftentimes have whole dialogues in my mind. I don’t pretend to know to whom I’m talking, just that there is conversation. Many times, I receive ideas or directions. On that morning, the convo went like this:

You should be a yoga teacher for children.

Oh. Yeah. I forgot about that. I should be a yoga teacher for children. Guess I’ll go back to Jacksonville, Florida, and become a certified yoga teacher.

Now, why would you go to Jacksonville to learn how to teach yoga when you’re in Costa Rica?

<insert spiritual side eye and judgy tone>

              Hmmm. Good point.

When I returned to la casa cucaracha, I googled “yoga instructor Costa Rica.” Guess what I found out? Not only is it popular to become certified in this country, but also, Tamarindo—the city I live near—is known for wellness practices like this. People fly from everywhere to either do a yoga retreat or to learn…right here.

Mind completely blown, I researched places. I settled on an organization that takes only twelve people per year and offers a two-week process in June. Usually, I mull over turns of phrases and the precision of words for applications, but “the voice’ told me I was wasting time.

Just submit.

I wasn’t even sure when I’d hear back.

TWO DAYS LATER

I didn’t want to share this with anyone, not even my husband. Sometimes, ya gotta read the room, good people: I had just quit a prof job, sold my car, moved to CR, quit another job, and now, I was gonna be a yoga teacher??? All he knew was I had an idea and wanted to wait until I was sure about details.

Well. Forty-eight hours after I’d secretly submitted my app, he and I were talking about people’s fear-based responses to my living-abroad situation. That’s when he said, “Yeah. Who knows? You could be a yoga teacher.”

To which I replied, “What did you just say???”

That was too weird, so I spilled the beans. He was super supportive and even remembered my yoga teacher aspirations from years ago.

A DAY LATER

I was accepted into the program! They loved my teaching yoga to children idea, as well as other details I’d provided about practicing. To my surprise, the two weeks in June were just the final in-person parts. Online/virtual classes were scheduled to begin at the end of March. I had applied and been accepted just in time.

RIGHT NOW

By the time you read this, I will have had my first class. I’m super excited and feel this direction makes sense for me. It seems hella aligned with who I am, who I’ve become, and who I want to be in this ever-evolving world.

I’ll keep you posted on all of the things. Until then 💕

Monday Notes: 3 Things I’ve Had to Learn/Unlearn to Follow My Intuition

~ kegarland ~ 58 Comments

I almost didn’t write this because I’ve discussed intuition many times before. But I decided to share anyway because this time feels different. This time, it wasn’t just practice and platitudes. It felt like a major exam after years of studying. Using my intuition to quit my job required everything I’ve suggested over the past ten years.

The first thing I had to do was listen to my body. Years ago, I was a school instructional coach at an elementary school. Every time I walked through the door, my stomach twisted and turned. I thought I would vomit. Instead of listening to my body, I awoke each day, swallowed the feeling, and worked for eight hours. After quitting, someone invited me back to lead professional development. The day I returned, I was nauseous. From that point on, I vowed to never ignore how my body felt.

Well, the job in Costa Rica was similar. I wasn’t sick, but my entire body vibrated and sent me a very loud signal that I can only describe as shouting, “Get Out!” At first, I thought it was because I was dysregulated from being in survival mode. But when I returned the next day, it was the same. I knew I couldn’t continue working there.

The second thing I had to do was ignore years of conditioning. Conditioning comes in many forms. This time it was one of my friends saying, “Hang in there!” after I had described the shenanigans.

“We’re too old to be following these GenX rules we were taught,” is what I told her.

“Which one? There are so many,” she replied.

“‘Hang in there’. I’m not going to.”

I know hang in there sounds like a simple phrase, and sometimes, it can be encouraging. I mean, you can’t go around quitting everything after 14 days. If you have a major goal you wanna manifest, hang in there! If you feel a little downtrodden, hang in there! If you moved to a new country and feel swindled and scammed? Reassess and let go!

Ignoring years of conditioning requires re-conditioning oneself with new rules. I’ve learned to speak kindly to myself when a pivot is required. I’ve written before about how my grandmother would ask me if I was stupid every time I did something nonsensical. Even though I knew I wasn’t, I’d started stating something similar whenever I got in a bind: I must be dumb or something. Well, not anymore. Those caregiver voices and the previous two generations’ mentalities have exited my system.

To quit my job, I had to not only acknowledge my feelings as valid, but to also reject the notion that I just needed to hang in there. I didn’t have to remain in la casa cucaracha or at a dysfunctional school with bullies for leaders. Aaand I wasn’t stupid for deciding to move. I’m here for a reason.

The last thing I had to do was not subscribe to society’s judgments about my decision. This realization manifested as a conversation.

Once I decided to quit, I told a few people at the school. Each co-worker admitted they, too, wanted to leave. One person had been there six months because they didn’t want to “fail.” This is a valid point. A lot of times, we are taught that giving up (e.g., not hanging in there) means you’re a wishy-washy human being and a failure. I told this person two things:

#1: There is no such thing as “failure.” It’s a made-up concept. It is perfectly okay to make a new decision.

#2: I don’t worry about the opinions of people who are sitting on their couch. This isn’t specific shade to people sitting on the couch; it’s what I think about most opinions. For example, I don’t take writing advice from people who don’t write. I don’t take marital advice from never married folks or those who haven’t been in some type of long-term, committed relationship. So, there is no way I would entertain the opinion of someone who has not attempted to live abroad.

Anywho, part of following one’s intuition requires not listening to others’ opinions of how you should function. Even though our decisions have ripple effects, we’re the ones who must live with outcomes and consequences. In my case, the results are always physical. In this short time, I’d returned to grinding my teeth and waking up in the middle of the night. One day, I’d told my husband I could feel the cortisol releasing in my belly, causing me to be bloated.

So, for now, that’s it for the TESOL portion of my living abroad.

I know it was short lived, but for those of you who know me, I’m sure you are not surprised that I’ve moved on to (as my blogging buddy said) the next right thing, which I will tell you about…later 😉

Other Times I’ve Written About Intuition

Monday Notes: Why I Quit Teaching the 5th Grade After 2 Weeks

~ kegarland ~ 83 Comments

There’s not one reason; there are multiple. And I’m not sure where to begin.

I want to tell you about the red flags I noticed before I boarded my flight, how administration said they were “impressed with my CV and wanted me to help them teach their teachers.” But then shifted from teaching teachers to teaching sixth grade…no teaching fifth grade.

“You can see what our school is like,” they said, “and then teach the teachers next school year.”

I agreed, ignoring the bait and switch.

I want to tell you about a happenstance meeting with one of the co-founders. I drank a Moscow mule and gobbled a cheeseburger as she pulled a crinkled piece of paper out of her Italian handbag. It was an eight-bullet-point letter from the parents. They were concerned about teacher attrition, no art at an “art school,” and a director who’d quit after one month. Next to each point were arrows and scribbles. One was about me. They’d assuage fears by telling parents that “Dr. Garland, from Los Estados Unidos would be joining them to teach fifth grade.”

I agreed, ignoring that I was being used for optics.

I want to tell you my TESOL instructor thought it odd that administration hadn’t connected me with three expats who’d been there since July. Wouldn’t they have insight?

“They probably don’t want me to talk to anyone…,” I said matter-of-factly, “…afraid I won’t come, but I’m still going,” I said with the ego of Dr. Garland from Los Estados Unidos.

I want to tell you about the day before my first day. How I unknowingly dropped dry white rice on the white floor of my home. The next day, I awoke to a mound of big black ants circling the kitchen, some forming a line, carrying rice on their backs from the circle to the door. Then, I saw a roach.

I want to describe to you how I was encouraged to rent this home 900 meters away from the school. But how no one told me the walk is on a highway with no shoulder or sidewalk. For two weeks, I slinked alongside semitrucks, buses, and motorcycles, hoping motorists saw me in time to slightly swerve.

My friend, who is a therapist, affirmed that lack of a sense of safety causes dysregulation.

I want to tell you about my first day. How at seven in the morning, the administrator asked how I was doing.

“Not well,” I told her, as I described the ants, the roaches, the road.

“That’s just Costa Rica,” she assured.

I batted back tears because the person from whom I’d rented the home was also her friend and the HR person. They’d scammed me for one-thousand dollars.

I want to tell you about how 48 hours prior, I’d asked if I was expected to teach Day 1 or if I would have time to orient myself.

“No. You teach,” she said. “This is your class. Do what you want.”

I want you to know that I received my email, the curriculum, textbooks, and direction the day I arrived. A teacher taught me how to use the copy machine. Another showed me how to perform twice-a-day duty that consists of watching children eat lunch and play at recess. They call it cuido; I call it babysitting.

I want to tell you about how this is a bilingual school, but there is more Spanish spoken than English. How everyone greets you with a hearty ¡Buenos Días! but if you mumble ¡Buenas! because you’re thinking about the dead roach you saw that morning, they side eye you, assuming you’re rude or don’t know the language.

How Monday begins with “The National Anthem of Costa Rica” and the “Guanacaste Anthem.” And how stupid you feel standing there, smiling, like a dolt, while ignorant of how to honor the country and the province.

How the day ends with dismissal in Spanish, and yes, yo comprendo, but not under this pressure. A student could miss their bus because I misheard details. So, a teacher enters the class, provides no Spanish greetings or eye contact, and grimaces as if I’m a liability, not an asset, certainly not Dr. Garland from Los Estados Unidos.

How Wednesday’s faculty meeting is 100% in Spanish. And again, yo comprendo, until everyone speaks simultaneously. My brain shuts down right as the bilingual teacher from Philly sidles up to me and whispers translations of faculty drama.

How there is one day I teach for an hour and sit for the other seven with pockets of nothingness. Other days teaching ends by noon.

It’s not all bad, though.

“I love you, teacher,” a few students say. One drew a photo. Another offered white chocolate. One gifted me with a handwritten card. “You’re not boring, like the last teacher,” they say. Even the woman from Philly praises how I’ve built classroom community; she wants to learn this skill.

I can teach her and these students. But I’m torn. I can neither waste my time with this flimsy schedule, nor navigate their system disoriented, so I ask administration if I can be part-time.

“No,” they say. “It won’t be fair to the other teachers.”

My only option is to teach fifth grade.

Without hesitation, my intuition guides me.

“I quit,” I say.

“Friday is my last day.”

Teaching in San Ramón: Final Reflection

~ kegarland ~ 47 Comments

Today’s task was my least favorite. We had to teach a lesson using English only and we had to use a song. Read my views on English-only methods here.

To maintain the self-love (and Latin artist) theme, I decided to use Christina Aguilera’s Beautiful. The program’s premise is that you teach the vocabulary, summarize the song, and ask varying levels of questions in English, then play the song 😮‍💨

I knew before I did the lesson that I wasn’t going to teach only in English not only because of my views, but also because of personal experience. Have you ever been spoken to in another language, while being asked comprehension questions or to do a task? No? Remind me to tell you about the first time my husband and I went to Walmart in Costa Rica. It was intimidating. So, just like the day before, I incorporated some Spanish.

WHAT WENT WELL

Emiliano told my TESOL instructor that he wanted to buy a little notebook, so he could write down and study his English words. That’s how I measure success. It doesn’t matter if I think a lesson went well. What matters is what the students say. Emiliano’s words proved the lesson went well. Anything else I add is literally my perception.

Additionally, I kept the closed caption on as Beautiful played because I wanted them to recognize the vocabulary words they’d just learned. It worked. Emiliano whispered the word insegura when insecure flashed on the screen. I pointed out the phrases I am beautiful; you are beautiful; we are beautiful.

WHAT WAS A CHALLENGE?

¡Ay Dios mio! It is still a challenge to understand these children when they speak. I really do attribute this to my brain having to process so much at one time. Plus, it’s only been three days working with them. However, I am not ashamed to say, “Mas despacio, por favor.” And the kids simply speak slower, so I can understand them, because it’s not that I don’t know the words, it’s just they all run together sometimes.

FINAL THOUGHTS

No matter how much you think you know, you can always learn more.

That’s what this Curriculum/Ethnography Project showed me. If I would have arrived at the daycare center as if I was better than the students, simply because I speak a language others value, have three education degrees, and a bunch of experience, then that would have been dismissive. Instead, I arrived every day as a person who is a guest in this country and at the daycare center. And although I have an extensive background, I’ve never done this before, so I am a learner.

Then, I did these three things.

Developed a relationship at the beginning. Once I decided to base my Curriculum and Ethnography Project at the same place, I knew the first step was to quickly establish a relationship with the students. That’s why I began with a questionnaire of personal questions. Creating individualized flashcards was another way to show the students I cared about who they were and what they wanted to learn, instead of forcing some pre-conceived curriculum on them of what they should learn.

Entered as a language learner. Spanish is my second language, just like English will be these students’. That means I have a level of empathy for them that I can and will always lead with. Sometimes, I was just as uncomfortable as they were to say the wrong word or have the wrong accent, especially because I’m the “teacher.” But I kept trying, which is what I wanted to model for them. For example, whenever Mariana, was hesitant to speak, I told her she could do it, and guess what? She did.

Use culturally relevant materials. I’m 100% sure these students listened to me more because I researched and used artists who were from or connected to Latin America. When Valentina recognized Frida Kahlo, she perked up a little bit and wanted to know what the story was about. When Emiliano realized the photo was Selena, he had much to say. The students knew who Christina Aguilera was but hadn’t heard the song, Beautiful. Cultural relevance in education is not a new theory; however, it is an underused one, especially in the States, and especially because it is now associated with DEI. I’m glad I was able to use it a non-restrictive or prescriptive way with these children.

Okay. That’s it for the reflection on my practicum during my three-week TESOL course.

The next time you hear from me, I will be in Tamarindo at my actual placement at a school called Educarte. More about that later!

Until then, ¡Ciao! (because I also learned that for some reason, they say, “Ciao” here…probably tied to colonialism. I’ll figure that out later)