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The
art of neural networking
By Cliff Hauptman
Any second, now, she must surely give in
and tell them the answer. It has already been . . . what? . . . 10 or
15 seconds of excruciating drawn-out silence, so suspenseful you can almost
hear the sustained, high tone of a violin. A quarter minute ago, she had
posed a question to her Brandeis University biology class of about a dozen
students, mostly juniors and seniors, but also some graduate students,
a post-doc, and one brave sophomore, all of them now mutely awaiting an
epiphany from the chalk sketch of a synapse on the blackboard.
Another 10 seconds and she is still in want of an answer, unfazed by the
lack of response, which must seem to the students as embarrassing as exposed
underwear. Five seconds more go by, seeming like hours in this shrill
tautness. The students begin to fidget, but the professor, Gina Turrigiano
84, the infinitely patient questioner, will not yield. She waits
as though she is not even waiting, without anxiety: tranquil, as if certain
of the outcome. Finally, the technique bears fruit; a student cracks under
the pressure and yields a reticent answer. To the surprise of all but
Turrigiano, the answer is a good one. Now she can continue, elaborating
on the response. The tension disappears like a released bowstring. Turrigiano
moves purposefully to the blackboard to emphasize a point, amend a diagram,
write an equation. After 40 minutes of the three-hour class, she offers
time for a break; everyone declines. She poses another question. Then
she folds back onto her chair, front and center, one leg tucked casually
under her as though conversing with a friend in her living room, and sips
from a coffee mug the size of a small wash basin, awaiting another answer.
Dressed in a blue crewneck cotton sweater and loden green corduroy pants,
ponytail hanging halfway down her back, her youthful face adorned with
black-rimmed glasses, she might be mistaken for one of her students if
not for the aura. Turrigiano, associate professor of biology at the Volen
National Center for Complex Systems at Brandeis, is the recipient of a
recent MacArthur genius award for her work in furthering our
understanding of the development of complicated neural networks. She exudes
a palpable self-confidence, as well she should after her welcome into
the pantheon. But hers is a self-confidence with no arrogance in it. Instead
one senses a profound centeredness, a life and psyche in remarkably fruitful
balance.
Turrigiano is married to Sacha Nelson, with whom she collaborates scientifically.
He is also at Brandeis as associate professor of biology and the Volen
National Center for Complex Systems. They are the parents of Gabriel,
8, and Raphael, 3. Turrigiano shares that personal time with time spent
teaching graduate and undergraduate classes, writing grants, reviewing
research papers, giving talks to audiences ranging from the very general
to the incredibly particular, reading the literature in her field and,
as she says, having some ideas every once in a while, and
directing all the graduate students who work in her lab while staying
on top of the nitty-gritty control experiments that take place there,
experiments aimed, as she says, at trying to understand the rules
that determine how complicated networks of neurons become wired during
development, and how these same networks are altered when people learn
something.
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On top of all that there is the business
aspect of the lab, which entails personnel management in the accommodation
of all the different styles and temperaments of her assistantsfour
graduate students, three post-docs, and always at least one undergraduate
who is working on a real research project. Its amazing,
she muses, the range of things we have to do to make it work. It
requires an incredible ability to multi-task, but its a lot of fun,
too, and great if you can carry it off. Which she does, apparently
to a level of excellence that has placed her among the elite of award
recipients.
She got the call from the MacArthur Foundation while in her lab at Brandeis.
One of her graduate students was there, as well, and Turrigianos
immediate reaction was to shout aloud, Holy smokes, I just won a
MacArthur! The voice on the phone expressed concern: no one else
was supposed to know about the award until the foundation, itself, made
the news public. I had to carry that incredible secret around for
a couple of days, Turrigiano says. Actually, though,
she goes on, I never associated the award with scientists. I thought
it always went to starving artists and writers. The guy up the road won
one when I was a child, and hed always been my hero. Its a
great honor to be in that kind of company.
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