In this task, you are given news articles and you need to generate a highlight, i.e., a short summary, with a maximum length of 10 lines.

(CNN)  -- Low visibility caused by mist and sand created poor flying conditions for the pilot of an Afriqiyah Airways flight that crashed just before landing in Tripoli, Libyan sources with knowledge of the investigation said Saturday. The plane, an Airbus A330-200, originated in Johannesburg, South Africa, and was at the end of its nearly nine-hour flight when it crashed Wednesday. All but one of the 104 passengers on board were killed. The sources said that as the pilot approached Tripoli International Airport, he took the plane off auto-pilot hoping to manually land the aircraft. He realized he was in trouble and tried to pull the plane up and turn the auto-pilot back on to give it another try, the sources said. But the effort was too late and the plane slammed violently into the ground, explaining the condition of the wreckage and damage to the plane's tail at the crash site, the sources said. An investigation into the crash is under way, and authorities are reviewing the aircraft's flight data recorder. Meanwhile Ruben van Assouw, the 9-year-old sole survivor of the plane crash, has returned home to the Netherlands. He suffered multiple fractures to his legs and underwent surgery at Al Khadra Hospital, said a doctor at the hospital who declined to give her name. Both of Ruben's parents and a brother were killed in the crash, a Dutch foreign ministry representative said. Ruben's family issued a statement Friday expressing gratitude to people who have helped them, such as Libyan hospital professionals and Dutch envoys, as well as the outpourings of sympathy from citizens in both countries. The family also thanked "the vast majority of the Dutch media for respecting our privacy." The family, which will raise Ruben, said the boy knows that his parents and brother were killed. "Considering the circumstances, Ruben is doing fine. He is sleeping a lot; now and then he wakes up and is then lucid," the family said in the statement. "He has drunk a little, and has seen the flowers and cuddly toys." Ruben's family said it has to deal with "two kinds of grief" -- the sorrow the boy is enduring and the sadness over the loss of the other family members. "The coming period will be very difficult for us," the family said. "We hope that all the media will respect our privacy." More than two-thirds of the passengers killed in the plane crash were Dutch, the ministry said. Passengers from Libya, South Africa, Belgium, Austria, Germany, France, Zimbabwe and Britain were also among the victims, the airline said on its Web site. The Dutch foreign ministry said Friday it is sending more experts to Tripoli to help Libyan authorities and Dutch colleagues identify the victims.
Sources: Mist and sand created poor flying conditions for the pilot of crashed plane .
Family says 9-year-old sole survivor knows his immediate family were killed in plane crash .
Dutch foreign ministry sending experts to Tripoli to help authorities identify victims .

(CNN) -- When Lukas Hartmann, 29, signed up for 23andMe's at-home genetic testing service, there were no surprises in his results. The Berliner learned he would probably die from "a mix of heart attack and prostate cancer," he wrote on a friend's blog, but "nothing special there." Then a few months ago, he received an update from the company. Hartmann's genetic code showed two mutations that are linked to limb-girdle muscular dystrophy, he says the site told him. "Some people with limb-girdle muscular dystrophy lose the ability to walk and suffer from serious disability," his results page read. This can't be true, he thought. It must be an error. Genetic testing can be a powerful tool. It can offer information about your family history, tell you how your body might respond to different drugs and identify your risk factors for disease. It can also be misleading. The Food and Drug Administration on Monday ordered 23andMe to stop sales of its $99 home genetic testing kits, saying the Google-backed company has not proven the validity of its product. The FDA warned that customers who received inaccurate results could suffer from undue mental anguish or undergo unnecessary medical procedures. The government agency has asked 23andMe to revise its marketing strategy to comply with federal regulations. The action triggered outrage among some of 23andMe's supporters. "So GMOs, aspartame, artificial flavors & colors, pink slime ... no problem!" a poster named Laura Ann wrote on the company's Facebook page. "But in no way should we be allowed the right to know our own genetic material as a means for making better decisions about our health." In a statement, 23andMe said it has received the FDA's letter and will be working to address the agency's concerns. There are more than 3 billion letters in our genetic code. Though it's been 10 years since the Human Genome Project was completed, scientists still don't understand what every gene does, and what a mutation might mean for someone's health. It's one of the issues opponents to home genetic testing kits raise most often. If DNA experts don't understand 100% what a gene mutation means, how can we expect consumers to? 5 cool things DNA testing can do . Scientists have identified more than 2,000 single gene disorders, says Rebecca Nagy, president of the National Society of Genetic Counselors. These are disorders that can be diagnosed based on the mutation of a single gene in the body; some examples include Huntington's disease or cystic fibrosis. But conditions such as Type 2 diabetes or Alzheimer's are more complex. Hundreds of genes may contribute to the development of these diseases, Nagy says, and a person's risk is also influenced by his or her environment. Testing for markers of risk scattered across someone's genome is "really only testing for the tip of the iceberg." "That's where it gets a little scary, because if a person has a normal test result on 23andMe, they leave thinking they don't have a risk," she says. "It's not that the science behind (this kind of genetic testing) isn't good. It's that the science behind them isn't complete." The upside of these at-home genetic testing kits -- and 23andMe isn't the only company that sells them -- is that they've generated a lot of buzz about genetics, Nagy says. She says she believes most early adopters of the tests are information-savvy and understand the results aren't set in stone. "I don't think that anyone thinks that this kit replaces formal testing by a doctor," Heather Armstrong posted on 23andMe's Facebook page. "I seriously doubt that a doctor would agree to perform, say, a double mastectomy, based on these results." Joseph Stolarski posted, "If you find something interesting, you then take it to a medical professional for further evaluation. No one is or should rely on it for medical 'diagnosis.' It's just a tool, like personally checking your heart rate with a watch or checking your weight on a scale." But Nagy says she worries about what will happen when the tests become more mainstream. Giving this kind of information to someone unfamiliar with genetic testing's limitations could prove dangerous. Nagy recommends anyone who wants to do genetic testing first talk to a genetic counselor. Counselors have specialized graduate degrees and extensive knowledge of the human genome. They're also trained in explaining test results to laymen. "Our message is to be a smart consumer," Nagy says. "Know what you're doing so that when you get the results back you can really use them to your best benefit." Hartmann did some intense investigating, saying he looked at the raw data 23andMe provided him. He eventually found he did indeed have two mutations, he says, but they weren't on the same gene. He says he submitted his "bug report" to the company and it apologized. In general, Hartmann thinks it's a good thing for every person to have affordable access to his or her genetic data. But he's browsed the community forums on 23andMe.com and has seen how seriously some people take their results -- without fully understanding them. Hartmann says he now believes he will not get limb-girdle muscular dystrophy, although he says there is a risk he could pass the genetic mutations onto his kids. "I can live with that," he wrote. "For quite some time, I hope." Parents push for standardized screening of Jewish genetic diseases . CNN's Dorrine Mendoza and CNNMoney's James O'Toole and Aaron Smith contributed to this report.
FDA has ordered 23andMe to stop sales of its $99 home genetic testing kits .
23andMe supporters took to social media to protest the FDA's decision .
Genetic testing can be a powerful tool if used correctly, experts say .

(CNN) -- Over the past few weeks almost a third of all Americans headed back to classrooms -- from early learning centers to universities, as students and as teachers -- accompanied by the usual seasonal mix of joys and jitters. Or perhaps not. Lately it seems we've been inundated with bad news: The nation's report card is crummy; schools are broke and failing; graduates can't find jobs. And with competition for resources putting increased pressure on standardized test scores, cheating scandals have become practically ho-hum. Among all these headlines resides a more quietly sobering fact: This year's high school graduates will be the first educated entirely under the No Child Left Behind Act. In other words, a whole generation of kids who've grown up with an emphasis on multiple choice testing, who've been taught that knowing the one right answer is more important than the process of inquiry, who've learned that admitting "I don't know" is a crime. But the problem isn't simply with a narrowly conceived educational policy. Pressure to know the right answer (or, more precisely, to appear to know) isn't limited to the classroom. It's pervasive throughout our culture -- a reality at once daunting and hopeful. Daunting because it means real reform will require more widespread change. Hopeful because it means there's something every one of us can do about it. Maybe even starting today. I'm talking about breaking the habit of faking knowledge in order to save face. For most of us, the fear of not knowing -- of looking dumb -- gets ingrained when we're small and reinforced throughout life in ways both subtle and overt. For every time someone reassured us, "There's no such thing as a stupid question," weren't there ample experiences -- on the playground, at the dinner table, and yes, in the classroom -- that convinced us otherwise? Anyone who's ever been reprimanded or ridiculed for revealing ignorance knows all too well: The taste of shame is bitter and lingering. We'll go to great lengths to avoid it, often without deliberate thought. How many times have I found myself nodding in feigned recognition when someone makes reference to a person or book they assume I know? How many times have I been guilty of unwittingly inflicting similar discomfort on others? In some walks of life, presenting a knowing demeanor is practically a job requirement. One financial adviser recalls how, early in his career, he was so anxious to impress upon his clients that he knew was he was doing, he'd use meetings to "information dump" -- only subsequently learning that they'd been too embarrassed to speak up and confess they had no idea what he was talking about. A surgeon tells about the time when, as a new intern, afraid to admit unfamiliarity with a procedure and ask questions, she plunged in confidently -- and made an incision four times longer than the patient had been told the scar would be. Politicians routinely face shame if they confess to not knowing. Remember Rick Perry's memory lapse during the 2011 Republican primary debate? It seems we'll forgive our elected officials just about any breach of ethics, but let them admit to anything less than invulnerable certainty and they can kiss our vote goodbye. For the past several years, I've made a conscious effort to be candid about the limits of my own knowledge. As a college teacher, I've discussed this intention explicitly with students and colleagues. Guess what? I'm mortified to report: Despite my public resolution to practice this most essential form of academic integrity, I still catch myself engaging in a kind of knee-jerk, face-saving, passive dissimulation on a semi-regular basis. Based on what I hear from others, I'm not alone. Such behavior is apparently endemic. So what are we to do? For starters, talk about it. Own up to instances when we faked knowledge. Initiate conversations about what makes us more or less susceptible to this behavior. You're likely to hear some funny stories, and the experience of shared vulnerability is humanizing and makes for closer connections. Best of all, it creates an environment in which all stand to grow. My friend Lori, during her years as a high school history teacher, constantly encouraged her students to play in the wide-open spaces of uncertainty. One way she did this was by sharing her own gaps in knowledge. She'd model not just her comfort with not having figured everything out, but her delight in it. This, she seemed to convey, was where real intellectual pleasure lay: in the adventure of exploring the unknown. Often she'd assign Shakespeare as a way of getting students to think about power and status. She'd have them read one of the plays, then ask: "Who's more powerful in this scene?" Her students, anxious to deliver the "right" answer, would demand clarification. "What do you mean? Powerful how?" Lori would shrug and unfurl her fingers: Nothing up my sleeves. This isn't a trick. If her students protested, she'd say simply, "That's all I know." And so they'd be forced to grapple not only with the answer to her question, but with the meaning of her question, with the definition of power in the first place, which she, the authority figure, had just handed over to them: You guys figure it out. You decide. In this way, they were learning about history and drama but also about shifts in power, and who may wield it, and how classrooms can work and how societies can work, and about the very nature of "right" answers as opposed to the illimitable richness of interrogating the questions. This is what excites me when I think of heading back to school this fall: the prospect of bringing such generous, generative energy into the classroom. Perhaps filling in the ovals with number two pencils is important for helping us understand how far we are from achieving equity in schools across the nation. That is a vital project, deserving urgent attention. But we won't ever achieve equity -- let alone excellence -- if we don't also work to make our schools places where we all feel safe saying "I don't know." The opinions expressed in this commentary are solely those of Leah Hager Cohen.

This year's high school grads will have been entirely taught under No Child Left Behind .
Leah Cohen: There's too much emphasis on memorizing the right answer rather than encouraging inquiry .
She says people are deathly afraid of admitting that they don't know something .
Cohen: Our fear of ignorance keeps us from learning as much as we should .

