In the computer labs of Northwestern State University of Louisiana’s New Media, Journalism and Communication Arts Department, it’s common to see students edit videos, design posters or write scripts. Cameras, design tablets and editing software are part of everyday creative life. But in the middle of all that work, something relatively new keeps appearing on students’ screens: artificial intelligence. 

AI is no longer a thing of the future. It’s here, and many students are already using it as they create. 

Professors and students in the department ponder the question: Are we using AI as a tool or as a shortcut? 

In areas like design, editing and audiovisual production, AI can become two very different things. When used intentionally, it can help organize ideas, refine details and make the creative process more efficient. For example, tools like ChatGPT can help revise a script or structure a project. But when students start letting the technology do too much for them, something shifts. The creative process gets shorter, and with it, the opportunity to learn. 

Travis Mitchell, an audiovisual production instructor at NSU, has seen this contrast many times in class. He added that AI can improve a project when used correctly, but it can also hide what students know how to do. 

“Students can make a piece of work look really nice when they run it through an AI color‑correction software,” he said. “But if they were asked to recreate that effect using their 

own skill, many wouldn’t know where to start.” 

For Travis, the problem isn’t the tool itself; it’s the moment when it begins to replace the learning process. “AI puts a filter on their ideas,” he said. “It can make them less honest.”  

However, not all students see AI the same way. Diana Mercado, a senior design major, has chosen not to use AI in her creative process. For her, doing so would change the way she connects with her work. 

“Using AI to look for inspiration or ideas takes away the meaning of what I do,” she said. “It 

makes the work less personal, less emotional.”  

Mercado explained that her ideas don’t begin in words; they begin with images. She thinks in colors, shapes and compositions long before she thinks in sentences. Because most AI tools rely on written prompts, she feels she must translate a visual idea into language, and something gets lost in that translation. 

When Mercado creates a poster, she’s not just placing elements on a page. She makes dozens of small, thoughtful decisions. She adjusts colors until they feel right, moves elements around until the balance makes sense and changes details repeatedly until the piece reflects what she imagined. AI can produce something quickly, but it doesn’t understand why those decisions matter. 

The result may look clean or even impressive, but it often loses something that only appears when a person spends time experimenting, trial and error, emotion and, above all, a personal touch. 

For Erick Cabrera, a junior pianist and music major, the relationship with AI looks different. He 

doesn’t use it to create music, but to understand it more deeply.  

“AI is a great tool that I use to better understand whatever piece I’m playing,” he said. “It helps me learn the historical context and what the composer was going through.” 

He also uses it to organize his practice sessions. Even so, he is very aware of the limits he 

wants to keep. “If we use it just to do things for us, we’re losing our critical thinking skills,” Cabrera said.  

AI can support a musician’s process, but it cannot replace something essential: the emotion, intention and human presence that brings a performance to life. 

Meanwhile, professors are also adapting to the way they teach. Nick Taylor, professor of editing and storytelling, makes his standards of AI usage very clear from the beginning.  

“We teach that using AI as the first step in content creation is not acceptable,” Taylor said. “The student must first conceptualize and add their own elements. After that, AI can be used to enhance or finalize.” 

For Taylor, the difference isn’t just whether students use AI; it’s how and when they use it. “Strong AI use is invisible,” he said. “Students who create first and then use AI to improve their work are usually producing top‑tier content.” He said that students who first master storytelling, design or editing, and then integrate AI as support will be the ones truly on the cutting edge. 

The conversation about AI in creative spaces is only just beginning. 

In design, some people are starting to notice when projects look too similar, as if they all came from the same place. In audiovisual work, it can show up in color correction that looks perfect, but doesn’t communicate anything. And in music, it sometimes appears in performances that are technically flawless but still fail to move the listener. 

AI is not the enemy of the creative process, but it’s not a magic solution either. It can help develop ideas, speed up workflows and open new possibilities. Or it can become a way to avoid the hardest parts of creating: thinking, experimenting, making mistakes and trying again. Maybe, in the end, the real question isn’t what AI can do for us, but how much of our own work we’re willing to let it do in our place.