the plain
english version
for the jargony scientific
version,
click here
You've heard of brainsurgeons
and rocketscientists?
Well...think
of me as a brain scientist1.
First,
some clarifications...
Yes, I am in the
Psychology
Department at
Skidmore College.
No,
I am not a Clinical Psychologist. If you ask me if
you're crazy, depressed, schizophrenic, or bipolar, I will
tell you
"yes".
Yes, I study
people's
eye movements.
No, I am not an
opthamologist. I
cannot tell you if you need
glasses or explain to you why your grandmother developed
macular
degeneration.
Yes, I study how
people read.
No, I am not a reading
teacher. I
do not directly instruct
children or illiterate adults on how to read, nor do I write
curriculum
for school districts.
Yes, I study
patients
with reading difficulties.
No, I am not a speech-language
pathologist. I am not certified to
develop rehabilitation programs for either children or
adults who have
trouble reading.
So...what
DO I do?
I
am primarily interested in studying the cognitive processes
involved in
reading. The ability to read is a skill that many of us
acquire
early on in life and take for granted in our everyday
affairs. We
pick up the newspaper to check the score of the Red Sox game,
we use
the menu to order dinner at
a new restaurant, we
read over the textbook and our notes to study for the upcoming
final
exam, we check our e-mail to hear how our friends and family
are
doing. In our western society, reading is not only a
leisure
activity (who hasn't snuggled up with a good book?), it is
also a very
important skill, necessary in our everyday activities at work,
school,
and play.
Although most of us are
quite good
at reading (or can at least make due
with a good dictionary at hand), the mental processes involved
are
quite complex. We are presented with arbitrary letters,
simple
symbols consisting of combinations of lines and curves that
mean
nothing explicitly. With practice, we learn that these
letters
have sounds associated with them, sounds that we hear in our
everyday
speech. We can put these letters together to sound out
entire
words. Even at that point, however, the reading process
is far
from complete. Once we can identify the word, we must
access that
word's meaning from our long-term memory. Identifying
the letters
"S-T-O-P" as the word "STOP" means nothing if we ignore the
red sign
and enter the intersection. Very rarely, however, do we
see words
in isolation. When we are reading a sentence, we must
connect all
of the words together (which
requires working memory processes) to get the meaning for the
whole
sentence. "He showed her baby the pictures" has a much
different
meaning than
"He showed her the baby
pictures", although the same
words are used. In addition, we must also be able to
deal with
ambiguities (e.g., "The chicken is ready to eat." Who is
hungry -
you or the chicken?!), attach pronouns to antecedents ("John
and Mary
went to the store and HE bought HER a gift."), and interpret
figurative
language ("It's raining cats and dogs outside."). And
then there
are paragraphs, and full novels
which require even more connecting, more memory, more
cognitive
processing...
So, how do we do it? That's the question I'm trying to
answer.
In order to answer questions about the reading process, I look
at two
different populations of people. First, I study the
reading
behaviors of normal, skilled readers to get a picture of the way
the
mind usually processes written text. So, if you can read,
my
research applies to you. Secondly, I study the reading
behaviors
of individuals who have difficulty reading as the result of
brain
damage. So, if you can't read, my research applies to you,
too. Why
eye-tracking?
Investigating the things going on inside the mind when people
are doing
any task (including reading) can be complicated. Even if
the
Human Subjects Ethics Committee allowed me to open up someone's
head
and look inside while they were reading, it would likely tell me
very
little about the mental processes involved. However, the
movement
of the eyes while reading actually gives us a fascinating
picture of
what is going on inside our head. When we read, our eyes
make a
series of stops and jumps, presenting information to our mind in
a
manner similar to that of a flip book. We look at a
section of
the text (a word, for example), get
information, then move our eyes to another location on the
page...and
the process repeats.
We move our eyes because of acuity limitations. We can see
details most accurately when they are presented at the center of
our
vision (the area called the foveal region). Since letters
are
very complex symbols, we need to move our eyes to bring these
details
into better focus. Interestingly, while we are able to
gain
useful information about letters when they are located in the
foveal
region (for example, when they are in the word that we are
currently
looking at), we can also get information from the word to the
right of
where we are looking. This area is called the
parafovea.
One main area of my research involves studying what type of
information we are able to get from the parafovea. For
example,
do we get information about the identities of letters, the
position of
the letters, or information about whether the letters are vowels
or
consonants? Part of
my research involves exploring the importance of letter identity
and
letter position in reading. Both letter identity and
letter
position must be encoded at some point during the reading
process or
else we would be unable to distinguish between anagrams like
STOP,
SPOT, TOPS, OPTS, POST, and POTS. You may have received this
e-mail forward
that was circulated around in September 2003:
Aoccdrnig to a
rscheearch at Cmabrigde
Uinervtisy, it deosn't mttaer in waht
oredr the ltteers in a wrod are, the olny iprmoetnt tihng is
taht the
frist and lsat ltteer be at the rghit pclae. The
rset can be a ttoal mses and you can sitll raed
it wouthit porbelm. Tihs is
bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey
lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe.
My research has revealed that much of this e-mail is
incorrect.
First of all, no such research has been done at Cambridge
University. Second, although the first and the last letter
of a
word are perhaps the most important letters, the other letters
are
quite important, too. True, you are able to piece together
the
sentences above to make sense of them. However, reading
text like
this results in a 12% decrement in reading speed. Thus,
the task
is no longer the same as normal skilled reading. It is
perhaps
more akin to problem solving. The
moral of this story: Don't believe everything you read on
the
Internet.
A
second area of my research focuses on the reading patterns of
individuals who have difficulty reading following brain damage
(for
example, from a stroke). Studying
populations of individuals with reading
disorders is important on several levels. First, research
on
language disorders in adults helps us gain
a better understanding of the language deficits in these
individuals. According to the National Aphasia
Association,
about one-million people in the United States have an acquired
language
impairment. The more that we know about these disorders,
the
better we can identify and treat them. Secondly, research
on
special populations lets us to see what happens when something
in the
normal reading system goes wrong. This can help us
identify
specific areas in the brain (or mental processes) that are
necessary
for skilled reading.
To learn even more about my research interests, click here to go to the jargony
scientific version,
which includes references for recently published papers and
conference
presentations. 1 Technically, I'm a "mind scientist" and not
a
"brain scientist," but HEY...you wanted the plain English
version and
sometimes that means blurring the lines of certain definitions.