Volume VIII, Issue
No.2
February 1, 2000
In
This Issue: Expeditionary
Learning All Day
Still
Confused, After all These Years
By Steven Levy
"An expedition is a journey into the unknown."
This was the first attempt
I remember to define an expedition. More descriptive qualifiers
followed this intriguing opener, the main features of which described
a "long term intellectual investigation built around significant
projects and performances." In the process of trying to help
teachers design expeditions, we have tried to clarify just what
they are and how they can be distinguished from projects, interdisciplinary
units, or thematic studies. Many of the features do overlap. Elements
we thought might separate expeditions from their cousins were the
emphasis on fieldwork, the focus on service, and the multiple revisions
encouraged to produce quality work. We developed benchmarks that
further delineated the elements of learning expeditions and checklists
to evaluate their implementation and assess quality. But as precisely
as we have tried to define them, there remains an element of expeditions
that refuses to be tied down, that escapes every benchmark and rubric.
Maybe they are a journey into the unknown after all.
All of us engaged in
some form of experiential learning comprehend that language alone
is not sufficient to communicate an understanding of an expedition.
Language can lead us to the edge of the water, but we have to jump
in and experience it before we can know the power of its current,
the subtleties of its shifting bottom, the measure of its defining
banks. We have to let it carry us along for awhile to appreciate
its changing landscapes, its variety of hidden life, its dead ends
and destinations. Every teacher creates a personal understanding
of an expedition by making connections to his/her own experiences
and constructing concepts to define it. We try to distill the key
components by comparing and analyzing our personal understanding.
Every new teacher adds something to the collective vision.
Because of the essential
role experience plays in understanding and creating expeditions,
there will never be a recipe, maybe never even a road map, that
shows how it is done and prescribes the steps to get there. We have
guides for planning expeditions before we go and for reflecting
on them when we are finished, but not for actually doing them. That
is frustrating to many teachers. Perhaps the best definition of
an expedition is the one that entices you to jump in.
FIFTH PERIOD: EXPEDITIONARY
LEARNING
Over the years and across
the states, many brave teachers have made that plunge. The essential
question we immediately face is how to integrate the expedition
with the content and skills that we have always taught and which
still need to be taught. A common practice is to teach all the academic
classes in one part of the day, and then save an hour in the afternoon
to do the expedition. That can be a good first step, but whatever
an expedition may be, we know that confining it to a period or two
is not its ultimate expression. Many teachers have heard, "You
are supposed to teach the expedition all day, every day. Everything
you do should be part of the expedition." We know that is the
goal, but I don't know if we have been able to articulate how to
do it. We can show examples of how content and skills can be taught
in the context of hands-on experiences. Outstanding teachers can
demonstrate expeditions that seem to build significant knowledge
and skills. (I remember what it was like when I was trying to learn
to Swing Dance. The experts were inspiring and demonstrated that
it was possible to do, but gave me no hope I would ever be able
to do it myself!)
But even when we see
the big picture, the grand scope of a complex learning expedition,
we don't often zoom in on the every-day, every-lesson teaching of
the skills and concepts that the student work seems to demonstrate
was mastered. Does the teaching of specific skills and content,
even when part of an expedition, look significantly different from
the way they are taught by other non-expeditionary learning teachers?
Are lectures, demonstrations, textbooks, and worksheets still the
best way to teach discrete concepts and skills? Or is there a way
to apply the principles of the expedition to a single class? Does
the same learning theory apply to one concept in a single lesson
and multiple standards in a year-long expedition? Can I use the
planning guide to design a single lesson as well as a six-week expedition?
EXPEDITIONARY LEARNING
ALL DAY LONG
I believe that when
we dig down through the layers of design principles, core practices,
benchmarks, and planning guides, we get to the integrating principle
at the heart of Expeditionary Learning. We discover the seed meant
to bear fruit all day, every day, in every subject and every lesson.
It seems too simple and obvious to promise much, but then, think
of the seeds you know. They don't look like all that much, but they
know the amazing secret of orchestrating the elements: earth, water,
air, fire in a way that brings forth growth and fruit. Here's the
seed: The experience comes first, then the concept. The experience
creates a "vessel" that the concept "fills."
If we pour in concepts without having created vessels to receive
them, they will run off the sides of understanding and be forgotten-if
not before the test, then surely after. The guiding principle that
can permeate everything we teach is that if we want our students
to understand something well, they need to experience it first,
and then find or construct the concept that defines the experience.
This is true of a single spelling lesson or a year-long investigation
of complex guiding questions. Creating these experiences for our
students, and then "growing" the concept from the experience
is a defining feature of Expeditionary Learning. It applies to understanding
the letter "B", the Periodic Table, or scale drawings
as well as to exploring the purpose of government, the scientific
method, or the meaning of life.
WHAT IS EXPERIENCE,
ANYWAY?
Two problems immediately
complicate this simple principle. The first is that understanding
and skill require much practice and repetition in order to be mastered,
even if you see it once with a great "AHA!" I can create
moving experiences to introduce an idea or challenging products
to address a standard, but understanding won't last without repeated
practice and opportunities for application. I haven't figured that
one out yet.
The second has to do
with figuring out what "experience" really is. We often
use the word, but what are we really talking about? Is it more than
just doing stuff? I think about four aspects of experience: sensual,
emotional, imaginative, and mental. It is direct, immediate, and
the first three types accessible without language. The way the world
enters us through our senses is experience. The emotion we feel
when the world enters us is experience. The imagination, the seeing
of pictures in our mind's eye is experience. Finally, we can experience
ideas, concepts, themselves. The power of thinking can be an experience.
Understanding can bring me joy. A paradox or puzzle can perplex
me. So when I talk about preceding conceptual understanding with
experience, I am talking about rich sense impressions, emotional
involvement, imagination, or "felt" ideas. I am not talking
about engaging hearing with lectures and sight with accompanying
notes or charts on the board.
THE CRYSTALLIZING
EXPERIENCE
Howard Gardner writes,"The
most important moment in a child's education is the crystallizing
experience: when the child connects to something that engages curiosity
and stimulates further exploration."
How do we create these
experiences for our students? I often use the following questions
as I plan individual lessons or complex expeditions:
What is amazing
about the concept or the topic? What important consequences
does it have in our lives? How would life be different without it?
Until I recognize the significance of the concept-the genius of
the topic, what makes it unique, what makes it important-I won't
be able to communicate to my students that it matters. Can you imagine
a number system without zero? What an incredible invention! I have
to appreciate how amazing it is. I have to feel it.
How have children
experienced the topic in their own lives? More often than not,
students already have the experience, but may not have formulated
the concept to define it. The kindergarten child experiences subtraction
when she loses a mitten. The eighth grader experiences the greenhouse
effect when she gets into a car on a sunny summer day after being
in the mall for three hours. The high school kicker on the football
team has experienced parabola as he judges a kick for height and
distance. If I can't imagine where they have experienced the concept
already, then I have to create an opportunity for them to experience
it before I introduce the concept.
What connection
does this topic have to others? Is there a principle or concept
at the root that leads to something universal? Sometimes the crystallizing
experience happens in making connections to other concepts. For
example, my students really got excited ("felt" idea)
about 'inference' when they discovered it in a science experiment
and then again in reading a novel. Or after studying Galileo, Joan
of Arc, and Oliver Cromwell, they got very excited about a spirit
they noticed all three figures had in common: they had to do it
themselves, not rely on some established authority. Or I remember
a first grade student becoming engaged with the letter 'M' when
she saw it emerge in a picture of the mountains.
How can I lead
students to discover the topic for themselves rather than tell them
what they are going to study? Students want to feel like they
are creating the curriculum rather than us telling them what they
are going to do. I try to create situations where they feel they
are authentically exploring something relevant to their lives. I
have to teach rocks and minerals. If I have them dig in the ground
to prepare for planting something, they will find rocks. I'll get
one of them to think they found something special (if it doesn't
happen naturally, which would, of course, be better). This will
lead to learning about how scientists identify rocks and minerals,
but students will never suspect the reason we are doing it is because
the state said so.
Is there a
great question, issue, or challenge that could introduce the topic?
Here is where guiding questions can be used as a crystallizing
experience to engage students. They can be used for single lessons
and expeditions. Reading an article together about how a television
transformed an Eskimo village created great debate in my class and
engaged students to explore the relationship between technological
progress and the quality of human life.
CLOSING THOUGHTS
Remember the seed that
underlies all of our tools and principles: that experience precedes
conceptual understanding. Much of our work is to craft these experiences
for our students, or mine them from their own lives. Our students
have a better chance to develop real understanding if we start with
the experience and then construct the concepts through guided inquiry.
If we apply this principle to every lesson we teach, I think we
will be on the way to figuring out what it means to do expeditionary
learning all day long.
Steven Levy is a school designer
with Expeditionary Learning Outward Bound
and a teacher in Lexington, Massachusetts.
back to In This
Issue
Essential
Structures for Learning Expeditions: Building Blocks to High Quality
Work
By Amy Mednick
Display after display of accurate architectural drawings, vivid
sketches of historic homes, and creative, well-written children's
books on immigrants' lives lined the walls of King Middle School
during a recent Celebration of Learning. This rich exhibition of
student work demonstrated the high expectations the Portland, Maine
school holds for its students. But teachers did not limit the displays
to impressive final projects. They also emphasized the structures
they put in place to help students produce high-quality work. The
teachers believe that without these structures, they would not be
able to lead sustained learning expeditions throughout the year.
TIME FOR PLANNING
Every learning expedition must begin with common planning time.
Dan LeGage and Paul Michaud, teachers in the eighth-grade York House,
plan their expeditions with four other team teachers who specialize
in English, math, technology education, and family and consumer
science. "If you're going to be involved in learning expeditions,
you need to plan them in the summertime," said Paul Michaud,
social studies teacher. "We've been doing that for a while
and it still takes three days to plan an expedition." Taking
time to craft an engaging, well-structured expedition plan helps
ensure that the students will want to spend eight weeks on one topic,
he said. In fact, LeGage said, three days only allows enough time
for experienced teachers to produce an outline of the expedition.
Each teacher also must take time to fill in the details of his own
part in the expedition according to the learning goals for the subject
area. After the learning expedition begins, teachers communicate
constantly as they adapt to the progress of the expedition.
King teachers have roughly three hours of common planning time for
every six-day rotation, but much of that time is used to take care
of house business, Michaud said. Because of the school-within-a-school
setup, teachers are able to iron out many of the small details during
brief hallway conversations between classes.
CREATING GOOD HABITS
Last year, before the first expedition even began, the teachers
decided to set the stage for smooth communication between students-and
between students and teachers-with an Outward Bound-influenced ground
school called Together Everyone Achieves More (T.E.A.M.). The teachers
decided to facilitate this 10-day program because the students had
never done expeditions before and the teaching team had never taught
together before. The 90-minute block included initiatives, trust
activities, and a low ropes course to help them build communication
skills and learn to trust each other.
"It motivated them
because it showed them that not only did we expect them to be invested
in their work, but that we are invested in them," LeGage said.
"We were out there doing the activities with them and we were
getting excited about what they did." This program laid the
foundation for their expeditions for the rest of the year because
it helped the students learn to take risks, Michaud said. "By
the end of T.E.A.M. they knew they wouldn't get laughed at if they
failed at something. We need that going into our expeditions because
we ask kids to take a lot of risks in presenting things."
For example, during an
expedition on immigration Michaud asked students to produce television
commercials on the constitutional freedoms available to immigrants.
This required students to practice videotaping themselves performing.
"Many of the kids wouldn't have done that if it weren't for
the fact that they succeeded at T.E.A.M. and knew that no one was
going to laugh at them," he said.
GIVING STUDENTS A
FRAMEWORK
As they moved into the expeditions, the teachers transform their
wing into a place that represents the topic, filling the shelves
with books, videos, posters, and art. They give each expedition
a catchy name that stimulates middle school students, like the recent
geology expedition called, "Rock the House."
Each expedition at King
also begins with a substantive and authentic kickoff activity. "Rock
the House" started with a double kickoff: an interactive presentation
by the Maine state geologist and a field experience at a geologically-rich
area in Southern Maine.
Once the expedition begins,
the students receive expedition folders or portfolios. The portfolios
are prepared with the expedition's guiding questions and expected
final drafts. As the expedition unfolds, students keep in their
portfolios all work related to the expedition, including an expedition
timeline and product descriptors for each minor project and the
final project. "They know exactly what they will be assessed
on from day one," LeGage said.
Hiram Sibley, the technology
teacher, also designed a web site for "Rock the House"
(http://www.angelfire.com/me2/Sibley/). The web site includes a
monthly schedule, guiding questions, and learning goals that give
students ready access to the thinking behind the expedition plan.
Carefully selected links to the Maine Geological Survey, the U.S.
Geological Survey site, and a site on the geology of Acadia National
Park also give students ready access to primary research resources.
SETTING HIGH EXPECTATIONS
Teachers do not accept work unless it is the best work that the
particular student can do, Michaud said. A student might have to
revise an initial assignment eight to 10 times before the teacher
accepts the final draft. After experiencing the frustration of revising
a piece 10 times, she might only have to revise the next piece five
times. "They begin to understand what it takes for them to
produce a high-quality piece of work," he said.
Students know they will
have to present their work to a "meaningful" audience,
and that raises the quality of work as well. For instance, the children's
books written for the immigration expedition were shared with elementary
children and community organizations, and the geology game boards
were marketed to companies that produce game boards. "Students
don't want to put something up that's not their best work because
this is for a meaningful audience," LeGage said.
TEACHERS DOCUMENT
Finally, all King teachers, including the York team, keep a record
of expedition plans, timelines, and contacts. Examples of student
work serve as exemplars for the next year for both teachers and
students. Students have a much better idea of what is expected when
they see exemplars of good-quality work.
Many King teachers repeat
their expeditions several years in a row. LeGage and Michaud point
out that a portfolio of an expedition helps them figure out ways
to improve the expedition if it will be repeated. It also serves
as a resource for other teams planning to do the expedition, and
finally as an example of a portfolio for students creating their
own portfolios.
Amy Mednick is the
former editor of The Web
.
One
Hundred Percent Every Day: A Whole-School Buffalo Hunt By
Sharon Leean and Dave Friedli
On an afternoon in late
fall, middle and high school students from the Umonhon Nation Public
School in Macy, Nebraska gathered around a buffalo calf in a pasture
in Kansas. They had traveled hundreds of miles to this spot, following
the trail their Umonhon ancestors had taken on the tribe's last
successful buffalo hunt in 1876. When their ancestors made the journey,
they had struggled to find buffalo-the physical and spiritual lifeblood
of the tribe-because the animal was on the verge of extinction.
Now, standing on the site where the hunters had finally found buffalo
123 years before, these students gazed down on a young calf, a symbol
of the birth of a new generation of buffalo. To honor the moment,
all ten tribal clans stepped forward to announce their presence.
"Wezhinshite is here!" "Inkesabe is here!"
Seeing all the students
at this historical spot was still a thrilling surprise. There were
many times during the planning of this ambitious trek to Kansas
that it seemed it would never come to pass. But now, standing on
the plains, we saw that the school had overcome the roadblocks of
doubt, fear, heavy workloads, and tight schedules, to make this
whole-school expedition possible.
A Wonderful Idea
How does a school-wide expedition involving 152 people traveling
over two states come about? Like many ambitious and wonderful endeavors,
it began with a marvelous idea. Mark Awakuni-Swetland, researcher
and lecturer at Nebraska University, discovered a 1931 article by
Melvin Gilmore entitled, "Methods of Indian Buffalo Hunts, With
the Itinerary of the Last Tribal Hunt of the Umonhon." The article
described the last buffalo hunt conducted by the Umonhon in 1876,
the same year that our fledgling country celebrated its first centennial.
For the Umonhon (also
known as the Omaha) in northeastern Nebraska, this was not a time
of celebration. The buffalo was scarce. The fencing of the prairie
and the rabid desire for buffalo hides caused the buffalo to plummet
from millions in the 1860's to less than 6,000 by the early 1880's.
Since the buffalo played a central role in the tribe's religious
and cultural life, their loss was devastating. It was in the midst
of these dramatic changes that 500 Umonhon tribal members left for
a winter hunt. It was the last time they found buffalo.
In the summer of 1998,
Mark Awakuni-Swetland and John Mangan, a teacher at the Umonhon
Nation Public School, retraced the trip following the article's
references. After finding what was surely the exact location of
the final kill site from 122 years earlier, John had an idea for
an expedition that would bring students "down the trail."
"Are You Out
of Your Mind?"
The Umonhon Nation Public School was completing its first year of
implementation of expeditionary learning and trying to identify
a theme for a whole-school expedition when John suggested retracing
the buffalo hunt. Principal/ superintendent Todd Chessmore fully
supported the idea, but not everyone agreed initially. "Are you
out of your mind?" some teachers demanded. "We can't take a
hundred of these kids on a four-day road trip. They'll go crazy.
Or, if they don't, we will."
Less dramatic but equally
skeptical, others pointed out the likelihood of bad weather, the
fact that proposed trip dates conflicted with either football or
basketball practices, and a myriad of other worries. Teen parents,
who number over a dozen in the school, could not be expected to
camp out with their babies. Teachers wanted additional compensation
pay for the nights away from home. At the same time the objections
were voiced, many teachers recognized the power and potential in
the idea. By choosing this piece of Umonhon history for the whole
school to study, we would send a message about the importance of
the culture. Perhaps it would inspire students to see their heritage
in a new light and find reasons for pride. Since we'd be studying
the last successful buffalo hunt, the link to questions of current
success and what it takes to achieve success would be immediate.
Equally exciting was
the prospect of having students experience the trip first-hand.
While it would be useful to study Umonhon culture in school, here
was an opportunity for students to not just read about their history
but actually retrace an historic trip. We knew that students would
be deeply impacted by the hands-on experience, and that their research
and reading would take on new meaning.
It was the superintendent
Todd Chessmore, however, who created the environment for the staff
to finally buy in to the expedition. He sold the idea as a whole-school
extravaganza. "We need to take everyone. It will be great!" he enthused.
He was unerringly optimistic and confident that this big trip could
be planned and carried out by students and staff. Without his leadership
and strong support, we would never have proceeded with such ambitious
plans.
The idea began to take
shape slowly. We decided to make the trip in November as a culmination
to fall expeditions. First-quarter classes became learning expeditions
on various aspects of the buffalo hunt. The Math/Science expedition
studied plants, natural habitats, and the process of extinction.
The History/Industrial Arts expedition studied various traditional
dwellings and designed models of the Umonhon tipi. The Physical
Education/English expedition learned archery and shinny (a traditional
game similar to field hockey) and created poetry about buffalo.
The Art expedition made moccasins and studied beading, while the
Business/Home Economics expedition made trail foods and trade goods
(buffalo jerky and beaded key chains). All expeditions studied the
Umonhon clan structure and practiced their presentation skills.
Fear of Failure
The trip itself was re-worked several times before a final plan
came into being. Originally we intended to camp outdoors and cook
meals over campfires as the ancestors did. Each expedition was assigned
responsibility for several aspects of the logistics. All this was
expected in addition to regular class work, fieldwork, and the start
of a new school year.
Once school year and
the real work started, our ambitious plans began to look preposterous.
Since we had promoted the idea and already received interest from
the Nebraska press and television, teachers felt we were setting
ourselves up for a very public flop. By late September, very little
was organized for the trip. Some expeditions were trying to do their
logistical jobs but not meeting with success. Others weren't trying
at all. Students were poorly informed and lacked enthusiasm. Staff
buy-in was very low. Several teachers said "Its not going to happen."
One said, "I won't go, and you can call me insubordinate, but I
will not go." After numerous conversations and observations, it
became clear that the task was too big. We were losing staff commitment
because teachers couldn't see any possibility of success. Their
fears were warranted. We were headed for failure; we decided to
scale back.
Making It Possible
Fortunately, the new principal, Dave Friedli, had experience in
planning conferences and youth events. He was willing to jump in
on the project so we took full advantage of his expertise. The logistical
responsibilities were pulled away from teachers and students, freeing
them to concentrate on the study of the hunt and the creation of
'ambassador presentations'to host schools. We also dropped the ambition
of camping and chose instead to locate YMCAs or school gyms that
might accommodate our group. With the responsibility for arranging
transportation, lodging, meals, and schedules now in the hands of
Dave and expeditionary learning coordinator Jo Meyers, teachers
and students concentrated on academics and creating student buy-in.
That in itself was a challenging task. Macy students, like many
students from oppressed groups, are often plagued with self-hatred
and fight reminders of their heritage. It took incentives, such
as the possibility of being able to earn 100% in each class for
the four days, to convince students to participate. We hoped, however,
that if we could get them on the trip they'd find reasons for taking
pride in being Umonhon.
With the extra support,
the trip began to take shape. Conversations about the trip began
to sound optimistic. Finally things were falling into place. In
an almost disbelieving tone Jo would report another logistical breakthrough.
Staff members would report that another group of students had decided
to participate. E-mails began to be signed "Catch the spirit!"
and "Catch the excitement!" Our perseverance had paid
off.
On the Road
Once we set off on the trip, there were logistical snafus, but many
fewer than we had feared. The hardships for staff of being away
from home, working with students for long hours, and getting little
sleep diminished in the light of what was accomplished. Each day
confirmed the value of all our hard work.
On the fourth morning
of the trip, we entered the area where Umonhon hunters had finally
sighted buffalo years ago. Richard Duff, the owner of a contemporary
herd, had arranged a visit to his farm. Walking out through his
back pasture, the group discovered a buffalo skull and held an impromptu
ceremony. Kennedy Ray Morris, an Umonhon student, later wrote about
that moment: "Mr. Mangan asked me if I wanted to carry the
buffalo skull. It was like he was joking, so I didn't believe him,
but he wasn't. I picked up the skull; a weird feeling came with
it, like I didn't deserve this job, like I was unworthy, someone
else should be doing this, anybody, but not me, someone who sings
Native American music, someone who goes to pow wows, and dances,
someone who grew up on the reservation, anyone with more Native
pride."
From that spot, the group
began moving along a ridge, when suddenly, students sighted buffalo
in the distance. The vision of the herd spread out below came over
the group with a concentrated hush; for a while no sound was heard
but the wind. Kennedy, who was still carrying the buffalo skull,
lifted the skull high in the sky and held it there above his head.
Later that same day,
as the group gathered around the buffalo calf at the kill site,
students and teachers reflected on the trip."I think we all
learned with this trip how important the buffalo were to our people,
and everything the buffalo provided to our people," said Denine
Parker, the art teacher. "Today, it is not like that anymore.
What you, as students, have to understand is that today, our buffalo
is education. Education is going to provide everything that you
need. It will provide for your little ones when you have them one
day. Education is your buffalo today. You need to prepare yourselves.
Go to school. Your tools are the books. Your tools are the pencils.
Learn it well so you can hunt that education and get it. Because
that is what we are going to need to survive as a people."
After the speeches, the
group gathered for a feast of buffalo stew and Indian frybread.
Then, like the clans over a hundred years ago, the return trip was
made in small groups, each finding its own way back to the Blackbird
Hills, the home of the Umonhon. As it was so many years before,
the travelers had found what they were searching for. On Monday
morning after the trip, all the students gathered in the cafeteria
to write about their experience. The tone of these reflections is
nearly universal. The trip made students think about their ancestors
and how hard they must have struggled to make the trip. They noticed
and connected to the natural world: the eagles that flew over us
the first day of travel and the rise and fall of the wind. They
liked how everyone listened attentively in the circles and how spiritual
they felt at campsites along the way. Students felt connected to
their ancestors, saddened by their struggles, and angry over the
demise of the buffalo and the loss of their traditional ways. Many
appreciated what they learned about their tribal clan structure,
language, and cultural history and pledged to continue that learning.
Bringing the Buffalo
Home
The overwhelming majority revealed a new-found sense of pride in
their heritage, in their being. The buffalo skull now resides in
a front hallway display case as a visual reminder of the trip and
all that it meant. Visitors and younger students see it and ask
questions that trip participants are glad to answer. Plans are percolating
to take the sixth-graders on a trip re-tracing another buffalo hunt
this spring.
There is also evidence
that this school expedition had positive effect in the larger Macy
community. The community diabetes project has taken on the slogan
"Education is Our Buffalo." As a result of the Buffalo
Hunt expedition, the tribe is raising funds to purchase its first
buffalo. They plan to name it Umonhon Nation. When other Plains
tribes have purchased buffalo herds, they have seen a dramatic increase
in the number of traditional ceremonies performed. Simply having
the sacred animal among them brings back a sense of cultural identity,
spirituality, and tribal unity. We hope that this buffalo will do
the same for the Umonhon Nation and become the first in a whole
herd.
Sharon Leean is a
school designer with Expeditionary Learning Outward Bound in Dubuque,
Iowa. Dave Friedli is the Principal of the Umonhon Nation Public
School in Macy, Nebraska.
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