I had the privilege/horror to attend yet another workshop last Wednesday. I say horror as I was dreading yet another day away from my kids (why is it so much work to get ready for a supply teacher?). However, I was looking forward to sitting down and spending the day with my principal and lead literacy teacher (I am the lead math teacher: Numeracy PLC chair).
In this workshop was a cheesy slide show that blew me away! Check it out:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GIqk4agzKPE
In it were references of technology which got me to thinking: How do I use technology in my daily teaching? The sad answer is that I don’t. Which then begs the critical question: WHY?
Why, in a world so technology driven is it that I am doing little to nothing to prepare my kids to live in a world dependent upon it. Is the weekly trips to the lab really doing it, where all they really do is surf to pre-determined sites or play banal games that only slightly challenge their intellect?
I think I am so resistant to using technology because I cannot see how to integrate it within my practice. Yet, this yet another case of doing what I am doing simply because it is always what I have done. It is a fundamental failure of imagination, a paralysis of paradigm (I love that line!). In the video, it said that the most in demand jobs of the future haven’t even been invented yet! And yet again, I ask, what am I doing?
I have always been dependent upon my imagination. I need to see something in order for me to get it to work. I haven’t seen anyone truly use technology in their classroom, besides just an add-on. So, my mind has been racing the past couple of days (thus not being able to sleep on a Sunday morning) with the possibilities.
So here is what I’ve come up with so far. I started with the idea of doing a classroom blog - not everyone contributing to one blog, but each student having their own blog under the umbrella of the teacher’s blog. I came across a website that seems to offer this, and browsed the possibilities - they seem really amazing! I am also being driven by the desire to get rid of paper. If I can do more on the computer, then I will have less paper to use. Also, if I keep all the information on the web - then, theoretically, it is much more accessible, right?
I’ve been trying to break it down into subjects. For reading, they could engage in reading projects where they are reading traditional books (please, let’s not get rid of those!) and searching for information on the web. This could be a mixture of guided reading groups with me, independent at their desks and then groups out on the computers. I need some way to track, or to hold the kids accountable for what they are reading. I thought of a simple T-chart, with information listed on one side, and response on the other side (depending on the type of strategy we are learning, would be the response for my kids.). For writing, they can go through the traditional paper writing, complete with process and all (as provincial testing is still paper bound), and have personal descriptive narrative/response journal-ing happening on line on the blog site. They are also responsible for responding (positively) to other members in the class.
For math, I can assign homework linked to the website, and have a math journal component as part of the homework expectations. This all is dependent on organization. How do I manage all of this?
I had some training in the spring to run an on-line course for the local university - this inspired me to post assignments that are expected from my kids. I think it is possible, yet it is dependent on me being able to visualize and organize it! Again, dependent upon my imagination!
So we’ll see how it works. The ball is rolling, so to speak. The summer will give me time to un-paralyze my paradigm!
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Thursday, April 5, 2007
Assessment, Accountability, and all that jazz...
I’ve been reading a couple of blogs from the states and there are quite a few issues that either I just don’t get or have no knowledge base to begin to understand. From the vast complaints I read about, it seems that education in the states is in the crapper - to put it bluntly.
On the subject of accountability, for instance, there seems to be a lot of contention... which got me thinking: What are my beliefs on accountability?
I am fully in favour of assessment - specifically assessment FOR learning. It is only through assessment informed instruction that we can have any hope of truly moving our students along. In grade 3, this translates to having my students master certain sets of skills, but more importantly (read: MOST), they are to UNDERSTAND these skills. Too often I read and hear from fellow colleagues that the only way to close the achievement gap is through basic skill instruction. This doesn’t wash with me. I liken it to building projects. If one child is lagging behind the others, and the house is not getting finished - then what they DON’T need is lots of instruction on how to hammer, to use a drill and techniques to screw (in screws!). They need rich and deep instruction, they need a person who can work with them as they build the house. This person is giving precise, practical advice on what EXACTLY is needed next.
I think about writing instruction. I cringe when I see fellow teachers photocopying grammar sheets for the whole class to complete. Why does the whole class need this? What a good teacher needs to do is pull out from the assessment what needs to be taught. Is this a global problem throughout the room? If so, then the whole needs that instruction. If not, then perhaps a small group or even an individual. I think we get hung up on time - and in terms of time, a lesson is seen as a 25 minute tirade, complete with photocopied sheets, elaborate tricks and gimmicks. THIS IS WRONG. A good as anything lesson could be a short 1 minute intervention. "Try doing this," or "Have you thought about this?" Then give them a chance to give it a go!
So in terms of accountability, how does this relate? I believe that through examining what my kids are learning, and specifically what they need, then I am truly accountable to what is happening in the room. I have a firm underpinning to my instruction, clearly outlining the reasons why I am instructing. I am teaching this because of this need. Time is precious, and it is too often wasted with filler. To teach effectively, to fill in the achievement gap, we need to teach precisely.
On the subject of accountability, for instance, there seems to be a lot of contention... which got me thinking: What are my beliefs on accountability?
I am fully in favour of assessment - specifically assessment FOR learning. It is only through assessment informed instruction that we can have any hope of truly moving our students along. In grade 3, this translates to having my students master certain sets of skills, but more importantly (read: MOST), they are to UNDERSTAND these skills. Too often I read and hear from fellow colleagues that the only way to close the achievement gap is through basic skill instruction. This doesn’t wash with me. I liken it to building projects. If one child is lagging behind the others, and the house is not getting finished - then what they DON’T need is lots of instruction on how to hammer, to use a drill and techniques to screw (in screws!). They need rich and deep instruction, they need a person who can work with them as they build the house. This person is giving precise, practical advice on what EXACTLY is needed next.
I think about writing instruction. I cringe when I see fellow teachers photocopying grammar sheets for the whole class to complete. Why does the whole class need this? What a good teacher needs to do is pull out from the assessment what needs to be taught. Is this a global problem throughout the room? If so, then the whole needs that instruction. If not, then perhaps a small group or even an individual. I think we get hung up on time - and in terms of time, a lesson is seen as a 25 minute tirade, complete with photocopied sheets, elaborate tricks and gimmicks. THIS IS WRONG. A good as anything lesson could be a short 1 minute intervention. "Try doing this," or "Have you thought about this?" Then give them a chance to give it a go!
So in terms of accountability, how does this relate? I believe that through examining what my kids are learning, and specifically what they need, then I am truly accountable to what is happening in the room. I have a firm underpinning to my instruction, clearly outlining the reasons why I am instructing. I am teaching this because of this need. Time is precious, and it is too often wasted with filler. To teach effectively, to fill in the achievement gap, we need to teach precisely.
Natural Man-Musk
I had the privilege of spending time with friends this past weekend, with whom I don’t often get the chance to talk with. My wife is really good friends with the Other Woman (no reason for capitals, just some unnecessary dramatic effect) so I am obviously paired up with the husband. This is a routine pairing, and while the women go off to do their thing, we are thrown together, most likely to engage in awkward conversation or subtle patronizing. You see, we share radically different professions, and I would be so bold as to extend that into radically different world views. When two people cannot see the other’s frame of reference, then awkwardness surely ensues.
The point of this, is that it WASN’T awkward (except for the hugging, which came at the end of the evening). We all balanced each other nicely and *shock!* I was able to move out of my comfort-zone-my-life-is-my-routine, everything-is-about-teaching mentality to see more of the outside world. It was refreshing.
Talk also came about to the topic of this blog. Granted, there is some audience-intent apparent here, but the ultimate goal of this blog is for me to write. In writing of my stories, I am able to better understand them, and ultimately, to improve my practice. However, I was reaching a sort of crisis/boredom point in that I was frustrated that there wasn’t an overarching theme apparent here. I was impatiently looking for a common thread that pulls all these rambling(s) together, yet none had jumped out to me so far. In talking to my friends, I was yet again reminded of my purpose - that is: to write. I needed to practice my craft and develop my skills. So, here we are.
In finding time to write, it is often an incredibly solitary position, though the process of writing isn’t solitary. This is what I teach my kids. I get them to write, and then to share with another, soliciting advice on how to improve their craft. They revise together, looking at content and ideas, expression of voice, and all the big changes they can make. Yet here I sit, dreadfully early in the morning, surrounded by my natural man-musk as I haven’t yet had a shower, listening for the sounds of stirring above me, hoping that the day won’t start yet. I’ve more to say, more to write, more to share... yet time is what I really need more of.
So it is with that in mind - time. In time, there will be patterns to my writing, more insights to be gleamed. Ultimately, it is really about the process. And that is what is truly important.
The point of this, is that it WASN’T awkward (except for the hugging, which came at the end of the evening). We all balanced each other nicely and *shock!* I was able to move out of my comfort-zone-my-life-is-my-routine, everything-is-about-teaching mentality to see more of the outside world. It was refreshing.
Talk also came about to the topic of this blog. Granted, there is some audience-intent apparent here, but the ultimate goal of this blog is for me to write. In writing of my stories, I am able to better understand them, and ultimately, to improve my practice. However, I was reaching a sort of crisis/boredom point in that I was frustrated that there wasn’t an overarching theme apparent here. I was impatiently looking for a common thread that pulls all these rambling(s) together, yet none had jumped out to me so far. In talking to my friends, I was yet again reminded of my purpose - that is: to write. I needed to practice my craft and develop my skills. So, here we are.
In finding time to write, it is often an incredibly solitary position, though the process of writing isn’t solitary. This is what I teach my kids. I get them to write, and then to share with another, soliciting advice on how to improve their craft. They revise together, looking at content and ideas, expression of voice, and all the big changes they can make. Yet here I sit, dreadfully early in the morning, surrounded by my natural man-musk as I haven’t yet had a shower, listening for the sounds of stirring above me, hoping that the day won’t start yet. I’ve more to say, more to write, more to share... yet time is what I really need more of.
So it is with that in mind - time. In time, there will be patterns to my writing, more insights to be gleamed. Ultimately, it is really about the process. And that is what is truly important.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
A Dedication for All
Well, I’m back at it (a little personal insert, if you will...). My youngest daughter just started daycare, throwing off my morning routine. And, as most educators are, I am resistant to substantial change and crave a routine of sorts. It has taken some time, but I think I am getting back to the craft. Well, let’s to it then!
Being in a new school, we are privileged to be a part of some interesting and unique experiences. Presently, we are thinking about dedicating the gym (something I had never heard of). We are currently tossing around local sports legends that possess the ideals and values that we desire of our students... and then it hit me! What if we dedicated the gym to someone within our local community, rather than a distant outsider. What if we dedicated the gym to a family that actually goes to our school who believes in the sports/values that we do... How cool would that be?
Part of the reason of this entry is for me to flesh out my ideas to present in a (reasonably) coherent fashion to my principal. My idea would require the staff to nominate a family (presumably) of children who go to our school who are active the in the sporting life of our school, and outside community. This would mean that we would say that all who enter and play within these walls show the same sportsmanship as _____________ (blank).
What if each teacher nominated a student from the first class of the building, effectively dedicating the gym to a wider range of students?
On the other hand, what kind of surreal experience would that be for a kid at school to play in the gym dedicated to her/him self? How would the other kids react to that? I think it is fair to say that sporting people in general are pretty competitive - so would this create resentment among the students - assuming they would even care?
I guess that is all this is - an ideal, a dream. We’ll see what the powers that be make of it.
Being in a new school, we are privileged to be a part of some interesting and unique experiences. Presently, we are thinking about dedicating the gym (something I had never heard of). We are currently tossing around local sports legends that possess the ideals and values that we desire of our students... and then it hit me! What if we dedicated the gym to someone within our local community, rather than a distant outsider. What if we dedicated the gym to a family that actually goes to our school who believes in the sports/values that we do... How cool would that be?
Part of the reason of this entry is for me to flesh out my ideas to present in a (reasonably) coherent fashion to my principal. My idea would require the staff to nominate a family (presumably) of children who go to our school who are active the in the sporting life of our school, and outside community. This would mean that we would say that all who enter and play within these walls show the same sportsmanship as _____________ (blank).
What if each teacher nominated a student from the first class of the building, effectively dedicating the gym to a wider range of students?
On the other hand, what kind of surreal experience would that be for a kid at school to play in the gym dedicated to her/him self? How would the other kids react to that? I think it is fair to say that sporting people in general are pretty competitive - so would this create resentment among the students - assuming they would even care?
I guess that is all this is - an ideal, a dream. We’ll see what the powers that be make of it.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
nothing short of a fundamental shift of thinking...
A fellow member of my PLC and I were invited to rub elbows with the big-wigs at the board office. We were to sit in and contribute to the conversation around the board-wide purchase of a new assessment tool for Math. What we are looking for, basically, is for a user-friendly tool for the average generalist teacher of math to administer several times throughout the year that would give us a snap-shot picture of how our students are progressing.
I sat in on two different presentations: Nelson Math presented their PRIME assessment tool, and I also sat in on the First Steps in Mathematics presentation. Both were incredibly interesting, comprehensive and very useful in terms of gathering information - however, both required nothing short of a fundamental shift of thinking... that’s all, nothing else really. I kept coming back to the picture in my head of my teaching partner (bless her soul, she’s great but...) who’s idea of math is still mired in an old-school philosophy, rooted firmly in an idea that good math starts with basic skills. This would be a HUGE undertaking to get her to the place where she can both think deeply and flexibly about mathematics, as well as moving all of her students towards that ideal.
These programs both require intensive teacher training: 3 - 5 DAYS of training just for the Number strand. To get the entire board on board (ha!) with this would be monumental. It would be a massive undertaking to train all of our teachers to become, basically, experts in mathematics, whereas most elementary teachers do not possess any degree whatsoever in post-secondary mathematics.
It would be hugely beneficial - and I, for one, cry out in a loud, earnest voice, that it is high time for a change in the way we teach math. We can no longer be shackled to the ideas foisted upon us by how we were taught math - it didn’t work then, in a world deemed rustic and antiquated by today’s standards, let alone what standards our future holds for us. When we are still slamming our heads against walls killing ourselves over teaching long division, when the reality is that most of us have never had to use that procedure outside of the 4th grade classroom where we (dis)learned it, why are still at it? What service are we doing for our children?
What we need is nothing short of a miracle: we need a quick and painless tool to deeply uncover and plan for our students’ incredibly diverse and complex mathematical needs. That’s all, nothing more. Perhaps it could take 5 minutes to administer, maybe 2 minutes to mark. Results could be colour-coded, graphs could be made, decisions made, money doled out... Is that really too much to ask for? Do we really need something that deeply and permanently disrupts and changes, thereby improving, they way we’ve been taught/teaching math?
The unsettling answer is:
yes.
I sat in on two different presentations: Nelson Math presented their PRIME assessment tool, and I also sat in on the First Steps in Mathematics presentation. Both were incredibly interesting, comprehensive and very useful in terms of gathering information - however, both required nothing short of a fundamental shift of thinking... that’s all, nothing else really. I kept coming back to the picture in my head of my teaching partner (bless her soul, she’s great but...) who’s idea of math is still mired in an old-school philosophy, rooted firmly in an idea that good math starts with basic skills. This would be a HUGE undertaking to get her to the place where she can both think deeply and flexibly about mathematics, as well as moving all of her students towards that ideal.
These programs both require intensive teacher training: 3 - 5 DAYS of training just for the Number strand. To get the entire board on board (ha!) with this would be monumental. It would be a massive undertaking to train all of our teachers to become, basically, experts in mathematics, whereas most elementary teachers do not possess any degree whatsoever in post-secondary mathematics.
It would be hugely beneficial - and I, for one, cry out in a loud, earnest voice, that it is high time for a change in the way we teach math. We can no longer be shackled to the ideas foisted upon us by how we were taught math - it didn’t work then, in a world deemed rustic and antiquated by today’s standards, let alone what standards our future holds for us. When we are still slamming our heads against walls killing ourselves over teaching long division, when the reality is that most of us have never had to use that procedure outside of the 4th grade classroom where we (dis)learned it, why are still at it? What service are we doing for our children?
What we need is nothing short of a miracle: we need a quick and painless tool to deeply uncover and plan for our students’ incredibly diverse and complex mathematical needs. That’s all, nothing more. Perhaps it could take 5 minutes to administer, maybe 2 minutes to mark. Results could be colour-coded, graphs could be made, decisions made, money doled out... Is that really too much to ask for? Do we really need something that deeply and permanently disrupts and changes, thereby improving, they way we’ve been taught/teaching math?
The unsettling answer is:
yes.
Tuesday, February 6, 2007
...and *BOOM* - just like that....
Well, our new principal has been at the helm now for a little more than 2 weeks, and he is doing a fantastic job. This means that he hasn’t disrupted the flow of things too much, but added his little touches that make him the great leader he is. Clearly, I am loving this new guy. I had been waiting for the opportunity to work with an administrator who truly inspires me - one who could lead a group of people, who could find balance in his work, one who really appreciates and reaches out to his staff, one who truly enjoys his work - and I know it is early, but I think this guy is it.
I was reflecting on the process this "new guy" had to go through in order to take over a school in our position - a new school, a year and a half in the making, the recent bringing-together of two separate staffs, and the fresh move-in and all that entails - and I realized: *BOOM* - just like that we are an established school with an existing culture, with our own set of morals and beliefs. I had always maintained that starting a new school was exciting because we all came together and started something with no baggage, meaning that no one could stop something from happening with the simple, yet deadly phrase: that’s not how we are used to doing things.
We came together to start something fresh. Now it is no longer fresh - it is established, and at the risk of going stale. This new guy has to contend with how things we done, and even though we are new, everyone knows how set-in-our-ways teachers are, and how incredibly resistant to change we are. So he has to navigate our waters, and though he is our leader, he (wisely so, I believe) has to stay the course regardless of where he believes we should go (What a great nautical metaphor!). Thank goodness we are going in a good direction! :)
The one thing going for us, in terms of staying off the entrenchment, is that we are still, for the most part, figuring out our school culture. The walls between the two different sites are slowly crumbling, with people more-freely crossing lines drawn in the sand. We are still negotiating what it means to finally be together in our new building. So maybe this is best time to take over an established school.
We have a vision, but there is still opportunity for change.
Well, here’s to hoping!
I was reflecting on the process this "new guy" had to go through in order to take over a school in our position - a new school, a year and a half in the making, the recent bringing-together of two separate staffs, and the fresh move-in and all that entails - and I realized: *BOOM* - just like that we are an established school with an existing culture, with our own set of morals and beliefs. I had always maintained that starting a new school was exciting because we all came together and started something with no baggage, meaning that no one could stop something from happening with the simple, yet deadly phrase: that’s not how we are used to doing things.
We came together to start something fresh. Now it is no longer fresh - it is established, and at the risk of going stale. This new guy has to contend with how things we done, and even though we are new, everyone knows how set-in-our-ways teachers are, and how incredibly resistant to change we are. So he has to navigate our waters, and though he is our leader, he (wisely so, I believe) has to stay the course regardless of where he believes we should go (What a great nautical metaphor!). Thank goodness we are going in a good direction! :)
The one thing going for us, in terms of staying off the entrenchment, is that we are still, for the most part, figuring out our school culture. The walls between the two different sites are slowly crumbling, with people more-freely crossing lines drawn in the sand. We are still negotiating what it means to finally be together in our new building. So maybe this is best time to take over an established school.
We have a vision, but there is still opportunity for change.
Well, here’s to hoping!
Thursday, February 1, 2007
I am Erin Gruwell
Okay - I really need to preface this (provocative) claim: I am not the brilliant teacher, the inspiration of the must-see film "The Freedom Writers". This movie, by the way, is so effective in cementing a teacher’s sense of righteousness and self-importance, that I am still decompressing my ego, having seen this film over two weeks ago.
No, I am Erin Gruwell for a different reason. Erin lived her passion. She poured her life into her class - and what a dream to have them for 4 years! She dedicated so much to those kids that her personal relationships suffered - almost to the point to total isolation (as the film lead us to believe). I am Erin Gruwell because I too live my passion for teaching, to the point of alienating my family. I dream about my practice at night, I wake up thinking about planning my day, how to more effectively reach certain kids, how to boost the self-esteem of my down-trodden cases, I fantasize about adopting certain kids to save them from themselves, I bring my work home, and the list of neglect of family goes on.
In the past couple of weeks, I have moved to a new school - and for a school already heavily time-committed, we gave up weekends and evenings to ensure that our new building/classes were ready. On top of that, I also had training at the university for an up-coming course I am facillitating. Needless to say (yet I am going to) considerable stress was place on my relationships with my family.
I caught the bitter tirades of my wife with her email buddies. She (and her friends) compared my profession with others, effectively reducing all that I do with the simple toss-off: He’s just a teacher! This says it all, doesn’t it? I furiously clung to my self-inflated importance of my job, holding up my new idol of Erin, claiming that I too do incredible work! I change lives!
Yet do I? The grim reality is that no one really remembers with fondness their grade 3 teacher, saying that it was this person who changed their life forever. There aren’t major movies out about the incredible work done with 8 year olds, and how these amazing teacher’s save all these kids from gang violence, from drug use, from abuse and neglect, all through some trick of sorts (perhaps I can teach them all how to play trombone, letting the music find their frozen hearts, teaching them to ballroom dance, play in an orchestra, act in a Shakespearean play, or write best selling books). Yet I cling to my delusions of grandeur. I secretly wish for the teacher of the year award, the million dollar contract, the whirl-wind book tour, the appearance on Oprah for the fantastic way I am teaching my kids how to visualize when they read.
Where is the balance? Where is the motivation coming from that makes me neglect my wife, leave the raising of my kids to others? What I do is good work, but what is the cost of this?
I am really good at my job. I love to teach because I am very successful at it. I am not so successful at being a parent/husband. It is a struggle, and often coming home, it is a brutal transition from successful teacher to screw-up family man. Perhaps it is this desperate clinging to success that makes me gravitate towards school. Maybe it is desperate need to feel good about myself that I have reflected my teaching onto my self. I am a good person because I am a good teacher.
Yet I am more than just my job. I am so much more. I have been blessed with a wonderful wife and two amazing girls. That is what I will be remembered for - not how I taught factions. That is why I no longer want to be Erin Gruwell.
Erin: You have done something amazing, but the price is something I can’t afford. Good for you. I’ll stay here.
No, I am Erin Gruwell for a different reason. Erin lived her passion. She poured her life into her class - and what a dream to have them for 4 years! She dedicated so much to those kids that her personal relationships suffered - almost to the point to total isolation (as the film lead us to believe). I am Erin Gruwell because I too live my passion for teaching, to the point of alienating my family. I dream about my practice at night, I wake up thinking about planning my day, how to more effectively reach certain kids, how to boost the self-esteem of my down-trodden cases, I fantasize about adopting certain kids to save them from themselves, I bring my work home, and the list of neglect of family goes on.
In the past couple of weeks, I have moved to a new school - and for a school already heavily time-committed, we gave up weekends and evenings to ensure that our new building/classes were ready. On top of that, I also had training at the university for an up-coming course I am facillitating. Needless to say (yet I am going to) considerable stress was place on my relationships with my family.
I caught the bitter tirades of my wife with her email buddies. She (and her friends) compared my profession with others, effectively reducing all that I do with the simple toss-off: He’s just a teacher! This says it all, doesn’t it? I furiously clung to my self-inflated importance of my job, holding up my new idol of Erin, claiming that I too do incredible work! I change lives!
Yet do I? The grim reality is that no one really remembers with fondness their grade 3 teacher, saying that it was this person who changed their life forever. There aren’t major movies out about the incredible work done with 8 year olds, and how these amazing teacher’s save all these kids from gang violence, from drug use, from abuse and neglect, all through some trick of sorts (perhaps I can teach them all how to play trombone, letting the music find their frozen hearts, teaching them to ballroom dance, play in an orchestra, act in a Shakespearean play, or write best selling books). Yet I cling to my delusions of grandeur. I secretly wish for the teacher of the year award, the million dollar contract, the whirl-wind book tour, the appearance on Oprah for the fantastic way I am teaching my kids how to visualize when they read.
Where is the balance? Where is the motivation coming from that makes me neglect my wife, leave the raising of my kids to others? What I do is good work, but what is the cost of this?
I am really good at my job. I love to teach because I am very successful at it. I am not so successful at being a parent/husband. It is a struggle, and often coming home, it is a brutal transition from successful teacher to screw-up family man. Perhaps it is this desperate clinging to success that makes me gravitate towards school. Maybe it is desperate need to feel good about myself that I have reflected my teaching onto my self. I am a good person because I am a good teacher.
Yet I am more than just my job. I am so much more. I have been blessed with a wonderful wife and two amazing girls. That is what I will be remembered for - not how I taught factions. That is why I no longer want to be Erin Gruwell.
Erin: You have done something amazing, but the price is something I can’t afford. Good for you. I’ll stay here.
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