Architects: They learn their trade in public

What is your mental picture of an architect? Do you imagine a man in a bow tie, talking in a cultured accent about his design theory while standing in a stark, white room containing one or two strikingly uncomfortable pieces of furniture?

This stereotype of architects has misled us for some 40 years.

We, the public, have regarded them as if they were the Grand Poobahs of the built environment — dictatorial, out of touch with reality, interested only in furthering their pet theories.

Not only is this an unfair assessment of a group of dedicated, underpaid, hardworking and talented men and women, but it has caused us to ignore their current and potential contribution to the quality of our lives.

As a profession, architecture is every bit as demanding as law, teaching, or medicine. Legally, the only people who have the right to call themselves architects have passed a difficult set of requirements in order to become registered with the state examining board.

To become an architect and receive a license, you must have received either a five-year professional undergraduate degree or a master’s degree in architecture; completed a three-year apprentice program, and be interviewed by a state examining board of architects and building professionals.

Finally, you must pass a difficult three-day written exam covering all aspects of the profession, including building design (this one section of the test lasts from 8 a.m. to 8 p.m.), site design, engineering, construction technology and legal issues.

After successfully surmounting these hurdles, you can look forward to working very long hours for salaries among the lowest of any profession. Judith Harvie, executive director of the Maine Chapter of the American Institute of Architects, says the median annual salary for a newly graduated architecture student is $22,000, while that of a registered architect is $26,800.*

One doesn’t strike it rich upon reaching the top of the pyramid, either. in Maine, the median salary for a principal or partner of an architecture firm is $41,600.

And in times of economic downturn, architecture firms are among the first businesses to experience financial difficulties resulting in layoffs. Thus, architecture is a career only for those who are fully committed and who seek rewards other than financial compensation.

Architecture demands an unlikely combination of abilities in its practitioners. Especially in Maine, where firms typically are small and staff members must wear many hats, an architect must be able to create the design, draw it up, oversee and coordinate the work of the engineering consultants and inspect the building while under construction.

In addition, the architect must be able to work with clients, interpreting their needs and providing a buildable solution within the monetary constraints. These clients can range from a family building a new home, to a corporation building its headquarters, to a volunteer school building committee — each group with a different level of understanding about architecture and construction. Somehow, the architect must arrive at a common language with these disparate clients.

What drives some people to choose architecture as a career? Steven Theodore, who is principal (with his wife, Wiebka) of the award-winning partnership Theodore & Theodore, says he was initially attracted to the field because it blends the technical aspects with the artistic.

“The greatest reward is seeing a building grow from its initial conception to its physical execution, ” he said. “Buildings that are successful are buildings where the initial concept remains intact.”

Bill Baxley, a 25-year-old staff member at Moore/Weinrich Architects of Brunswick, will take the professional exam this summer.

“In school, the emphasis is on design and the history of architecture,” said Baxley. “When I began working in an office, I found it challenging to juggle all the different parts of the job. Feeding information to the consultants, keeping to deadlines, following building code restrictions — it’s much more complex than I originally thought it would be.”

“Architecture is problem-solving in a public forum,” said Cynthia Howard, architect and preservation planner, whose office is in Biddeford Pool. “It is a challenge to reach solutions that are both pragmatically and aesthetically pleasing.”

Howard left painting because “it is so private,” choosing instead to pursue architecture, where “you get feedback from the user.”

Writing in the journal Landscape Architecture, Laurie Olin, principal in the Philadelphia firm of Hanna/Olin Ltd., talks about the meaning of architecture:

“Whether seen from afar or up close, architecture is clearly a compositional art, and despite its practical nature, it is one of the most lasting expressions of culture and art. There is a rigor and discipline imposed by the medium and process that, when mastered, provides great freedom within structure. Architecture offers but never guarantees a profound connection to society.”

This connection can be nourished by the attention, criticism and enthusiasm of a public that follows architecture. Without a discerning public responding to developments in their field, architects may feel they are working in a void.

Yet architecture, complicated by real-world constraints to a far greater extent than any other art form, also has a stronger impact on our lives than any other art form.

Look around you. Does your building succeed as shelter? Is it physically comfortable? What messages does it convey to you about our society? What would you change about it if you could?

The more you practice this method of questioning, the more creative and perceptive you’ll become. Then, the next time you are with an architect, speak up.

[This is another in the Architecture & Design series I wrote for the Portland, Maine, Press Herald in the 1990s.]

*According to the Department of Labor, the median annual wage for an architect in 2012 was $73,090. Almost 26 percent of architecture jobs were lost between 2008 and 2011 (from 96,480 to 71,460). More recent figures are not yet available but the outlook is improving somewhat.

Smaller may be better: In school design, think like a child

Imagine being three-and-a-half feet tall and staring down a 300 foot long corridor filled with hundreds of strangers.

When September rolls around again, thousands of Maine children will face this daunting environment.

Due to population growth, lack of long-range planning and tight budgets both at the state and local levels, communities may feel their  state-funded elementary school planning and design options are limited to the megaschool concept.

That’s not necessarily the case, say design professionals. But it takes strong leadership on the part of the school administration, the building committee and the architects to arrive at a solution that reflects the educational philosophy of the community, the needs of its children, and is at the same time financially feasible.

What is the optimum number of students for an elementary school? While it is difficult to pin down an exact number, both folklore and current educational research indicate that smaller is better.

We nostalgically invoke the one-room schoolhouse, where everyone knew everyone else, the children all had chores to perform–such as breaking the ice on the water bucket or chopping the wood for the stove–and the teacher boarded with one or more of the families in the community.

No doubt, the one-room schoolhouse had inherent problems as well. If saddled with an incompetent teacher or an apathetic community, the school must have provided a wretched introduction to learning.

However, a small school, with its additional resources, can overcome the pitfalls of the one-room schoolhouse. At its best, it can introduce children to the world of intellectual inquiry and give them a sense of their own ability to solve problems in a flexible, cooperative manner.

In addition, small schools are better able to welcome parental involvement, an important ingredient in both individual students’ success and the success of the school as a whole.

Just as children are intimidated by the physical size of a megaschool, parents are intimidated by the size of its bureaucracy.

Educator Deborah Meier, recipient of a MacArthur Foundation “genius” grant and the innovative principal of a public high school in New York City, feels very strongly that high schools should be small as well.

Writing in the New York Times, she states, “Young people cannot learn democratic values in a setting that does not value individual achievement, that cannot notice triumphs and defeats, has no time to celebrate or mourn, or respond with indignation or recognition as the situation requires.

“In small schools,” she continues, “parents hear about the same teachers, students and families year after year in a variety of formal and informal ways. Trust builds and issues that arise get settled handily. Accountability to parents, as well as to the community, is a less knotty problem.”

Certainly an argument could be made that if Meier suggests a maximum of 500 students for a high school, the number should be smaller for an elementary school.

Some experts suggest 250 students should be the maximum number. Even in an elementary school of 500, it is all too easy to create an institution where waiting in line is a frequent experience and conformity an unstated objective.

Currently, the Maine State Board of Education mandates that not more than 25 students on average may occupy a classroom, but when it comes to total student population, there are no limits. Consequently, communities have to decide that question for themselves.

In the larger school districts, like School Administrative District 75 in Topsham, where students come from a number of small, diverse towns, the question of school size can be fraught with emotionally charged debate.

Not only are the parents afraid of losing touch with a school located in a distant town, but the electorate is less likely to feel personally involved in a megaschool encompassing a number of towns.

Communities vote down schools for an exasperating number of reasons, but surely feeling alienated from the project is a major cause of voter disapproval.

Why to so many megaschools get proposed? The perception is that the state funding can be received only if the town or SAD agrees to consolidate its core facilities (library, gym, cafeteria).

In fact, the state is willing to be more flexible than that, but at some cost to the communities involved.

“It takes a tremendous amount of negotiation,” says architect Steven Moore, “and it helps to have a certain understanding as to how the system works.”

As an example, Moore cites the experience of the Oxford/Otisfield school district (SAD 17). Rather than build one combined facility for the approximately 825 elementary school students in these two communities, two schools were built. Each town was able to retain its neighborhood school.

The district, however, had to bear the additional $305,000 of the construction cost over the cost of a single consolidated school.

“It was not an easy task to convince the voters,” added Moore. “But Ken Smith, the superintendent, had initiated the long-range planning and had laid the groundwork.”

The district began working with Moore/Weinrich Architects in 1978 to develop what came to be known as the “community schools plan,” now coming to fruition with the construction of the Oxford and Otisfield elementary schools.

In the view of the public, the architect’s job is to design a building. Yet architecture begins with the research and articulation of the client’s needs in a document called the “program.”

Communities should expect and require their school administration and chosen architecture firm to collaborate with them in developing a program that asks the basic questions: How do we want our school to interact with the community? What are the geographical and historical issues we should consider? What sort of an educational experience to we want to provide for our children?

In the next article in this series, we will examine how communities and their architects have dealt with these questions in several school projects around the state.

[This is the first in a series of articles published in the Portland, Maine, Press Herald in the early 1990s. Unfortunately, I can’t seem to locate the follow-up article to this first one.]

Five tactics for boating with a newbie

If you’ve been boating for years, chances are you’ve forgotten what it feels like to be a newcomer setting a tentative foot on a rocking platform on the water. Yet, at some point, you are likely to find yourself inviting a non-boater to come aboard. Perhaps it’s your mother-in- law, or your daughter’s boyfriend, or that nice person you met at the market.

We happen to be sailors, so much of what I say below is written from the standpoint of an owner of a wind-driven vessel.

However, many of my suggestions will apply to the treatment of guests on powerboats, too. Power or sail, there’s more to worry about than what kind of soles are on your guest’s shoes. To ensure that both of you have a good time, here are five things to keep in mind as you prepare to leave the dock.

1. A non-boater may have no idea how things work on a sailboat or a powerboat, so explain. This was illustrated to my husband, Rick, and me on our Cape Dory 33, Ara, when we invited some acquaintances from my organization’s headquarters to go for a sail. Ben, a handsome, tall, brilliant policy analyst, asked how he could help so I passed him a jib sheet. I soon was shocked to find him pushing on the sheet. Yes, pushing instead of pulling.

Ok, that’s an extreme case. But you can’t assume any knowledge if your passenger admits to having no experience. Give him or her a simple explanation of how the wind passes through the slot between the sails and thus powers the boat. Let him know that when the wind pushes on the sails, the boat will tilt. Lead him on a quick tour of your craft, which brings me to the second point.

2. Speak English first, then translate. Don’t start the trip by asking your guest to stow her ditty bag on the starboard settee in the saloon. Yes, you are bilingual, but remember, she is not. Make sure your friend knows what you’re saying.

Then, if she seems interested, teach her a few of the more useful words, especially words that may come up as you sail: port, starboard, bow, stern, jib, main, mast, boom, buoy, halyard, sheet, leeward, windward, heel, tack, jibe, etc. Don’t overwhelm her; let her ask for more rather than forcing it. And here’s an added benefit: Teaching sailing vocabulary can turn into a game that will carry the conversation if you run out of things to chat about.

Oh, and be sure to explain about the keel. Tell your friend how heavy it is. And when the boat is “tilting” wildly, remind her that the keel will keep the boat from capsizing (unless you’re sailing in a Sunfish or a Laser or something made for capsizing).

3. Go for safety, not style points. When I was 17 and already madly in love with Rick, he gave me a heavy green ex-Army jacket, which I wore everywhere, including on the Lightning on which I crewed every Sunday at the Winnepesaukee Yacht Club in Gilford, N.H. During one gusty race, I was swept overboard by the boom as we made a surprise jibe. I almost drowned trying to swim with that jacket on. In hindsight (about 20 years later), I realized how foolish that was.

So, today, if I think a guest should wear a PFD, I don one first and offer another to him. If it’s not safe to go up on the deck, I say, “Stay in the cockpit and talk to me.” Be firm; some people don’t like to admit that there could be danger or that they might be frightened.

There’s an old family tale about my father racing in our Lightning with my Great-Uncle Henry, who must have been in his late-70s at the time and considered himself an Old Salt. Uncle Henry would never be caught dead wearing a PFD, but he was almost caught dead without one. They were running downwind, the spinnaker fouled, and Uncle Henry went forward to unwrap it. A big puff hit, and Uncle Henry was whisked right off the bow. (He did survive, only slightly the worse for wear.)

You’re the captain: You must explain that on a boat the captain’s word is law. Say it nicely, but say it firmly. Even if this is your boss you’re talking to, or your girlfriend’s husky older brother, be clear.

4. Put comfort at the top of the list. That other sailboat that you’re trying to catch? Your guest won’t think less of you for letting them get away, especially if it means you’ll relax, stop sailing so close to windward, and keep your boat sailing on its bottom and throwing up less spray. You and I may not mind heeling at 35 degrees, but chances are a newbie will be scared witless. Even if you’ve explained about your weighty keel, she’ll still be full of dread. Go ahead, reef the sails, spill some wind, take it easy. The point is not to instill a lifelong fear of boating.

And watch the wind, the sun, the temperature. Bring up a boat cushion or two. Offer a fleece or a hat. Serve a snack. Which reminds me….

5. Stop seasickness before it becomes a problem. Is your guest suddenly quiet and pale? Yawning? Bring out the crackers. Pour a glass of ginger beer or offer a bit of crystallized ginger candy. No one knows if he’s prone to seasickness until he goes to sea. But certain things can contribute to seasickness. Anxiety, for one. That’s another reason why you don’t need to put your vessel on her side during this cruise.

An empty stomach, for another. Maybe you were planning to break out the snacks on the downwind leg. But if your passenger is already feeling woozy amid tacks to windward, give him a couple of crackers to settle his stomach. Explain that sometimes it just takes awhile to get used to the motion of the boat, and encourage him to stand, look around, and make himself at home. Some people, my daughter included, swear by wristbands. Encourage a newbie to wear them if he’s never been sailing. They’ll act as a placebo if nothing else. In a more extreme case, or with someone who admits to having been seasick before, drugs can be effective, but they have to be taken ahead of time. Seasickness is something to avoid, for it can ruin the trip for everyone.

If you follow these tips and pay attention to your guest’s needs, you’ll be inducting a new person into the worldwide club of people who are at least mildly fond of boating. Did someone, once, long ago, introduce you to the joys of being on the water? Here’s your chance to “pay it forward,” as the saying goes.

Barbara Burt and her husband, Rick, recently acquired Lark, a Nordic 40, which they sailed from Annapolis to Maine last June. They look forward to sailing out of Rockland this summer with friends of all levels of experience. (This article appeared in the July 2011 issue of Points East Magazine.)

Ending the Inside Game

Good afternoon! My name is Barbara Burt, and I work for Common Cause, a national, nonpartisan, citizen advocacy organization. Our motto is, “Holding Power Accountable.” As you probably know, the president and CEO of Common Cause is Maine’s Chellie Pingree. I bring you warm greetings from Chellie, who regrets not being able to be here today.

What I what to talk about with you is the “inside game” of Washington politics, how that got us into Iraq, and how we can stop it. Here are a few facts to start us off:

Halliburton and its subsidiaries have received contracts in Iraq worth up to $18 billion. Its first contract was for $1 billion and was awarded with no competitive bidding. Competitive bidding has now been introduced, but often the deadline to receive bids is three days, which puts smaller, less well-connected companies at a severe disadvantage.

Despite several investigations into Halliburton’s conduct in Iraq, including criminal investigations by the Department of Justice, the company recently won another billion-dollar contract from the U.S. government.

From 1995 to 2000, before leaving to run for office, the CEO of Halliburton was, as you know, Dick Cheney. Since the start of the 2000 election cycle, Halliburton has contributed $580,000 to the Republican Party. It has also spent $2.6 million sending lobbyists into the offices of members of Congress and other government personnel. Of course, with Cheney in the White House, Halliburton has actually been able to reduce its lobbying costs.

Bechtel is another company that has been a long-time Republican contributor and has also received huge contracts in Iraq, now totalling almost $2 billion. Since the beginning of the 2000 election cycle, Bechtel has donated more than $700,000 to Republicans, and spent $1.3 million on lobbying.

George W. Bush’s 2000 campaign manager, Joe Allbaugh, has started a company called New Bridge Strategies. According to its own Website, it’s “a unique company that was created specifically with the aim of assisting clients to evaluate and take advantage of business opportunities in the Middle East following the conclusion of the U.S.-led war in Iraq.”

Lobbyist and former Appropriations Committee Chair, Republican Bob Livingston, recently secured a contract for a British client to print the new Iraq currency.

Examples of inside-game war profiteering such as these are plentiful. Check out commoncause.org for more.

So, what is an “inside game?” It’s a decision-making process that relies only on a closed circle of like-minded advisors. These advisors are often lobbyists whose companies have paid thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands of dollars in campaign contributions. It’s back-room deal making. It is the opposite of democracy.

We now know that the Bush Administration came into office intending to attack Iraq. According Paul O’Neil, former Secretary of the Treasury in the current Bush Administration, at the first National Security Council meeting, on January 30 of 2000, a mere ten days after the inauguration, the idea of attacking Iraq was broached. One month later, Dick Cheney had maps showing the oil reserves. Quickly, the discussion turned to logistics.

Make no mistake, this war was about money and oil. Because of the inside game, we have sent 674 coalition soldiers (574 of them American) to their death, wounded thousands of others, killed an estimated 10,000 Iraqi civilians, according to Amnesty International, reduced a country to rubble (which we will now have to pay to rebuild), and increased the threat of terrorism around the world.

There’s another, equally harmful side to the “inside game” that can be illustrated by the timid opposition to the Iraq Resolution in the U.S. Senate and House. Too many of our elected officials relied on the self-interested advice coming from the administration while ignoring the reports from impartial experts, not to mention the huge outpouring of protest from their constituents and people in other countries. Our representatives in Washington listened to the insider voices they recognized instead of the voices that challenged authority.

And the media feeds into this inside game by neglecting to do its homework, shying away from hard questions, and refusing to report the opposition’s perspective. Where are the media today at this event?

There’s only one way to break up the inside game, and that’s by trumping its power. The only power that can overcome money is the power of the vote. Luckily, in a democracy-and we still have a democracy-that is a power available to all of us. Same as influence peddling, it’s all in the numbers.

I know that some of you are skeptical about this. Do not underestimate the power of your vote. As an example, let me read you this excerpt from an article on global warming by Bill McKibben from the spring issue of Onearth, the magazine of the Natural Resources Defense Council. McKibben is recounting a story about the aftermath of the first Earth Day as told to him by former Republican Congressman Paul McCloskey.

“About two weeks after Earth Day,” McCloskey says, “there was an article on the sixth or seventh page of the Washington Star-some of the Earth Day kids had labeled 12 members of the Congress the Dirty Dozen and vowed to defeat them. Nobody paid much attention. On the first Wednesday in June, though, everybody in Washington opened the paper to find that the two Democrats on that list-one a powerful committee chairman, the other a senior member of the House Judiciary Committee-had lost primary fights by fewer than a thousand votes. Within 24 hours, seven of the 10 Republicans on the list had come to me, even though I was despised, against the war and all. ‘What’s this about water pollution, about air pollution? What can you tell us?’ That fall, five more of the dozen were defeated. With seven of them down, when the next Congress convened, everyone raised their hand and said, ‘I’m an environmentalist.’ And in the next three years we passed the Clean Water Act, the Endangered Species Act, and most of the rest of the major environmental laws.”

Isn’t that a heart-warming story about the power of the vote? As Senator john McCain says in theat same article, “If there’s one thing that everyone here’s an expert on, it’s getting elected.”

Here today we need to ask ourselves, are we also playing an “inside game?” I would bet that all of us here vote. We probably also write letters to the editor, contact our representatives, follow the news closely, and sign petitions. But, in order to take back our Democracy, we need to do more. We need to spread the word. We need to build our numbers.

So, here are some suggestions:

Organize a neighborhood Democracy party-invite everyone, not just your like-minded friends. Have photocopies of articles available to hand-out. Get voter registration cards from your town office and have them available. Create a list of contact information for your elected representatives. Invite your elected representatives to stop by to answer questions. Organize study groups to discuss particular issues in depth. As a group, plan a 100% voting participation effort for your neighborhood in November’s election.

Whether in your neighborhood or in the activist organizations you belong to, keep the media informed of your activities. Take pictures, send out press releases. Create positive buzz. Make your activities the “main stream.”

Don’t make assumptions about other people. Aim for dialogue, not demagoguery. Find common ground and common cause! Consider yourself an ambassador for democracy and be diplomatic.

As you build your list of contacts, keep the pressure on your elected officials. Common Cause and other public interest groups can send you e-mail updates on current issues before governmental bodies. Be knowledgeable. Write short, to-the-point letters. Send in those letters signed by a group of people.

Finally, and this is the most important part of my speech, I ask you to pledge to bring five new people to the polls on November 2. Bush has his Pioneers and Rangers; we need to create a counterweight to those sorts of influence peddlers. Let’s call ourselves Democracy Leaders. Stop for a minute and think about all the people you know-relatives, friends, business associates, acquaintances, young people-since we know that some 5 out of 10 people don’t vote, there are sure to be some non-voters in your list. Consider leaving your comfort zone and talking to folks you don’t know. Carry a pile of voter registration cards with you at all times. For more ideas, go to VoteforAmerica.org.

This is going to be a tough campaign season. By going negative so early in the game, the political parties have signaled their intention to decrease voter turnout. Negative ads effectively depress voter interest in all candidates. Of course, at the same time, the two major parties are working like mad to ensure that their most fervent voters show up at the polls.

Let’s make this election about more than single-minded rabid party loyalty. Let’s make it about the fate of our country and its people. Let’s make it about peace, truth, justice, and our place in the world. Let’s make it about holding power accountable.

So, everybody, hold up your hand and show me how many new people you’re going to bring to the polls.

Bring all five; keep Democracy alive!

[Speech given in Augusta, Maine, on March 20, 2004. This piece was published on the website Common Dreams.]

Plum Island

That singular day

we climbed the dunes

and followed the wooden-slatted path, suspended

over the march’s reflection.

Watched ourselves walk on the still water,

silently waited for sign of bird or small beast.

We were allied then,

no jockeying for position, tugging for power:

content to let the boundaries touch, enmesh,

without the usual screech of heavy metal.

Perhaps our aggression was borne out over the waves

by the gulls

and dropped with their discarded shells.

The sand-pines’ whisperings echo our conversation

and the sun-baked sand

remembers our warmth.

 

[Published in Beloit Poetry Journal, Fall 1980, May Sarton, Guest Editor]