Sunday, April 26, 2009

Altruism meets Art

I've been lucky enough to meet a lot of really interesting people doing a lot of really great things since I moved to LA. Last summer, in my month of wandering with Whitney, we found not only a great new restaurant and amazing bar, but also my favorite LA bartender and altruistic actor, John Fortson. John's 2005 production of Loveswell was long over by the time we met him, but a new one was in the works and has finally arrived.

Loveswell is a one-man show about love and relationships told through the eyes of the most prevalent of Los Angeles archetypes - the surfer. In addition to being entertaining and, according to reviews, quite illuminating of the mysterious male perspective, the opening night performance this Friday, May 1st, is also a fundraiser for Heal the Bay, an organization devoted to "making Southern California coastal water and watersheds...healthy and clean." When a disappointing and disturbing beach closure due to post-rain contamination kept John from giving his nephew a surf lesson, he was inspired to combine his theatrical talents with his environmental altruism. This special gala night is hosted by actress Alexandra Leighton and pro surfer and “ecowarrior” James Pribram and includes treats from Terroni after the show.

Tickets for the fundraiser and more information about the show can be found on line (click here). If you can't come to the opening night, the show runs Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays through June 7th. John will be accepting donations for Heal the Bay throughout the entire run. And we will most certainly be missing him at Terroni until then.

One more quick reminder about the LAPD performance on Saturday night (seeing as you'll all be at Loveswell on Friday). Studios open at 6 and the show,"CPR: a Public Training in Life Saving Skills", starts at 8:30. We're hoping to 'drive' our survival station down Olympic from OPCC before the Saturday show. A big thank you to my new friend Cooper Bates who has volunteered to photograph the event for us. Hope to see you all next weekend.

More information at:

http://lapovertydept.org/

http://www.18thstreet.org/

Sunday, April 19, 2009

the haphazard and unpredictable fine art of teaching

The side effect of teaching is that we often learn things ourselves we didn't even know we needed to learn. When I ran the first Mobile Studio I learned how to live with other people on a constant basis. It made me more tolerant, more flexible, and more empathetic. When I collaborated on the Artpark at the Urban Ministry center I learned about patience, trust, and value. All of these are traits I've tried to internalize, but still regularly consider and often need to re-negotiate.

Sometimes teaching reminds us how little we know, terrorizes us into a state of panic and insecurity, but just as quickly can show us how far we've come and that we know how to know things whether we actually do know them or not. That is a useful and priceless skill.

Sometimes teaching reminds us how much we know about our areas of expertise, and how little others know, and we must learn to uncover the elusive tracks of knowledge past, point them out, and show the way. The trickiest balance, particularly in the arts and design professions, is knowing also when not to show the way, when finding the way is the knowledge itself and one more bread crumb is too many, one fewer is not quite enough. It's been said in one way or another at many a curriculum meeting that in addition to complexity and depth the difference between teaching second year architecture studio and fourth year architecture studio is the degree to which you let go.

Returning to school in the middle of a teaching career is even more destabilizing and, hence, twice as educational. For every bit of content I learn in a course, I learn as much about how to teach and how not to teach, storing up the unconscious lessons of the unintended consequences of one act versus another, one word versus another, one strategy, one method, one task. Having been there, I know more readily where to look. I recommend switching sides of the desk for all teachers, at least for a little while.

We can never see the world through the mind of another person, but teaching - the constant and required interaction with the metamorphosizing minds of others - requires an intellectual vulnerability; a mental giving; regular re-negotiation of self and other; and a weekly psychoanalysis of mood, mind, and emotion that remains invisible and avoidable for much of the non-teaching world. I have never met a good teacher who was a bad person, nor a bad person who was a good teacher. It's too much internal work, too much emotional risk, and way, way too much effort to not do it for bigger reasons.

I am still in the middle of learning for this semester. The one day a week, Integrated Learning course that I am teaching with Dorit Cypis at Otis College of Art and Design, The Right to the Street, is currently a full time array of relationships and expectations, learning and unlearning, lumbering rapidly towards an amazing collaborative conclusion that will be shown publicly in Santa Monica two weeks from yesterday. It is exciting to be engaging with the Los Angeles Poverty Department (LAPD) and their theater workshop with OPCC. It has been enlightening and inspiring to work with the old and new members of their troupe - Kevin Michael, Riccarlo, Sheeba, Luis, RW, Rochelle, and others. The day Riccarlo turned a meeting-gone-gripe-session into a mock press conference for a pre-inaugural Obama, my mind began spinning around the opportunities that theater possesses, for those without homes, yes, and for those with them as well. It is amazing that Otis has this program and is willing to explore what it means to put 7 disciplines, a teacher, a mentor, and a partner from different worlds at the same busy, sometime treacherously shaky, table.

Within our Otis class, we are finalizing the three projects being developed in conjunction with the performance in May. My giant bag of current learning certainly revisits flexibility, empathy, tolerance, and patience, but it also includes new visions of multi-disciplinarity, the real skill that is collaboration, and the simple reality that teaching is a moving target, particularly if you are willing to stretch beyond what you think you already know. In the end, though it should seem obvious, good teachers must also be good learners, and by stretching what, when, or where we teach, we stretch what we know and what we are able to do with what we know. In addition to bits and pieces of content and skill, what we pass on to our students is that ever so slightly weighted bag of learning and a hopeful passion for them to continue collecting and filling the bag to over brimming.

This semester, in addition to all we have learned about homelessness, public space, and guerrilla tactics, we've also broken stereotypes, reached out, looked in, juggled, compromised, tried, stretched, improved, opened up, and negotiated.

Join us in two weeks and see how we're doing. (details below)


LOS ANGELES POVERTY DEPARTMENT TO PERFORM
"CPR, A PUBLIC TRAINING IN LIFE SAVING SKILLS"


On May 1 & 2 at 8:30 p.m. at Highways (1651 18th Street, Santa Monica, 90404), the Los Angeles Poverty Department will present a new production, "CPR: a Public Training in Life Saving Skills" to celebrate the 20-year anniversary of Highways Performance Space and 18th Street Arts Center.
This performance is developed and performed by members of Santa Monica's OPCC, Ocean Park Community Center and the LAPD All-Stars, directed by John Malpede and Henriƫtte Brouwers. Performances are free.

At a time when home foreclosures, job loss, and staggering medical bills are forcing more and more people onto the streets, undercover LAPD (Lost And Presumed Dead) heroes share the extraordinary wisdom that accounts for their return-from-the-edge, against-all-odds survival. "CPR: a Public Training in Life Saving Skills" is the first collaboration between LAPD and Ocean Park Community Center. OPCC is the largest and most comprehensive provider of housing and services on the Westside to low-income and homeless youth, adults and families, battered women and their children, and people living with mental illness, particularly homeless mentally ill women.

LAPD has been making theater with homeless and formerly homeless people for 24 years. Twenty years ago LAPD was invited to perform at Highways Performance Space during its inaugural season. Highways invited LAPD back to celebrate the 20-year anniversary on May 1 and on May 2 the performance will be part of 18th Street Arts Center's Arts Night at the same location.


This project includes visual collaboration with students at Otis College of Art and Design's Integrated Learning program, 'The Right to the Street' class taught by Linda Samuels and mentor Dorit Cypis.


Based in LA's Skid Row, LAPD creates work that connects lived experience of those who live in poverty to the political and social forces that shape their communities and lives.
This project with OPCC is funded in part by a grant from The National Endowment for the Arts' Theater program.

For more information visit: http://www.lapovertydept.org

or http://www.18thstreet.org/

Sunday, April 5, 2009

The Prison Library Project

We are an incarceration society, so I've recently heard.

In April of 2008, The New York Times published a world map of comparative incarceration statistics. The larger the circle on the diagram, the larger the number of inmates that country has per 100,000 inhabitants. The US circle is the biggest on that world map, with 751 incarcerations per 100,000; Russia is second with 627. Our neighbors - Mexico and Canada - fall well below our 700-plus with 198 and 108 incarcerations per 100,000 respectively. Shockingly, the US Department of Justice claims that one in ever 131 US residents (regardless of conviction status) is being held in a US prison or jail.

Initiatives like Proposition 6 and 'Education not Incarceration' bring to light the very complicated relationship our society has with crime, arrest, conviction, race, incarceration and equity. Proposition 6 would have shifted state funds away from schools, human services, and housing and towards criminal justice programs - in other words, treating the terminal disease after it has taken root rather than investing in wellness, prevention, and health.

According to the Education not Incarceration website, the following facts illuminate some trends of spending that seem to emphasize our national draw towards punishment and retribution over prevention:

High school dropouts are more than three times more likely than high school graduates to be arrested in their lifetime. (Alliance for Excellent Education, 2003)

During the last two decades of the millennium, corrections’ share of all state and local spending grew by 104%, while higher education’s share of all state and local spending dropped by 21%. (From "Cellblocks or Classrooms” Justice Policy Institute, 2003)

Nearly 80 percent of individuals in prison do not have a high school diploma. (Office of Juvenile Justice and Delinquency Prevention, 1995)

Though none of these facts even begin to prove any kind of cause and effect relationship, nor do they do more than scratch the surface of the root causes of crime at large (or non-crime, for that matter), there seems to be little question that sustained education increases opportunities which may then provide alternatives to a criminal form of life sustenance.

What we do know is that 2,310,984 people are incarcerated in the US today, and that we would prefer they leave the prison system, if at all possible, with optimism rather than anger.

I came across The Prison Library Project on my first trip to Claremont, a town on the far, far eastern edge of Los Angeles County (home, by the way, of the amazing Three Forks restaurant, currently under post-fire renovation). According to their flyer, The Prison Library Project was founded in Durham, North Carolina in 1973 and relocated to Claremont in 1986. The PLP is part of the Claremont Forum, "a non-profit organization whose mission is to enrich lives through education, arts, and wellness programs."

Each week, PLP receives close to 300 letters from inmates requesting books. In return, they mail or deliver nearly 30,000 books, magazines, and audiotapes each year to individuals and libraries across 600 prisons nationwide. They are particularly interested in books on growth and development, but also deliver books of poetry, literature, and fiction. They do not take crime, murder mysteries, or romance novels.

There is a large, unmet need for dictionaries in particular. For our cause this week, there are three easy ways to help PLP do their work:

Donate books:

1. Bring books to me (home, Otis, or UCLA - leave a comment if you need the address or locations) and I'll get them to The Thoreau Bookstore, home of the Claremont Forum and the nationwide Prison Library Project.

2. Mail books to or drop books off at the PLP directly, in care of :
The Claremont Forum
586 West 1st Street
Claremont, CA 91711

3. Next time you are on Amazon, go to their wish list and add a dictionary or other book to be sent to the Claremont Forum.


New dictionaries cost as little as $6.50, used ones as little as $3 plus shipping. Most of you are avid readers if not intellectuals by profession. This small gesture, in our book-obsessed lives, is a way to help spread the idea that language, the perfect sentence, and the beautiful word really can be keys to a better life.

The Claremont Forum also accepts donations (just $2.50 sends two books to an inmate) and always needs volunteers to read letters and pack books. Go to their website for more information on ways to get involved or to learn more about the PLP. They can also be reached via email: claremontforum@gmail.com or phone 909-626-3066. If you find yourself in Claremont, you can shop at The Thoreau Bookstore. Proceeds go to the PLP. It's directly across from the Claremont Art Museum in the restored Claremont Packing House.

A big thank you to Mike Manville - the first donor who, while cleaning out his office, came across a dictionary and thesaurus that will make their way to Claremont, and then off into the system via The Prison Library Project.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

untitled 09

untitled 09 (ariana huffington's powder room: self-portrait of iphone with owner)

This post isn't much of a cause or much of an action, but it does fall flat in the middle of what most undergrads lovingly refer to as 'spring break'. Right now, it's a place holder - like Brad Pitt's pink project in New Orleans; it's a promise that I will be back after the ACSA conference in Portland to write more about stats and its relationship in particular to birth control, infrastructure, religious freedoms, and books. Things are most definitely brewing - stay tuned.

The image is merely proof (as images are) that my iphone and I somehow found ourselves in Ariana Huffington's powder room last week (how crazy is that?). A guest of my Obama group friend, Andrew, we had an opportunity to hear Elizabeth Alexander recite her inaugural poem, eat mini grilled cheeses, and marvel over the sheer quantity of personal portraits that surrounded us in the Brentwood-based villa. Want a signed hard copy of the poem itself? I might just have an extra. Leave a comment; let me know.

As a nod to the honorary event, here is the text of the poem. It felt a little bit like being at the inauguration, only smaller, warmer, and unfortunately Obama-free (though he was in LA, and we were kind of hoping he might come by).

You could say, I imagine, that poetry is actually its own kind of cause, and this one, prosaic as the phrases might be, certainly endorses its own call to action.

So, there we have it - the cause this week is poetry, and to 'praise song for the day', this day, this spring, this week.

Praise song for the day.

Each day we go about our business, walking past each other, catching each others’ eyes or not, about to speak or speaking. All about us is noise. All about us is noise and bramble, thorn and din, each one of our ancestors on our tongues. Someone is stitching up a hem, darning a hole in a uniform, patching a tire, repairing the things in need of repair.


Someone is trying to make music somewhere with a pair of wooden spoons on an oil drum with cello, boom box, harmonica, voice.

A woman and her son wait for the bus.

A farmer considers the changing sky; A teacher says, “Take out your pencils. Begin.”

We encounter each other in words, Words spiny or smooth, whispered or declaimed; Words to consider, reconsider.

We cross dirt roads and highways that mark the will of someone and then others who said, “I need to see what’s on the other side; I know there’s something better down the road.”

We need to find a place where we are safe; We walk into that which we cannot yet see.

Say it plain, that many have died for this day. Sing the names of the dead who brought us here, who laid the train tracks, raised the bridges, picked the cotton and the lettuce, built brick by brick the glittering edifices they would then keep clean and work inside of.

Praise song for struggle; praise song for the day. Praise song for every hand-lettered sign; The figuring it out at kitchen tables.

Some live by “Love thy neighbor as thy self.”

Others by "first do no harm," or "take no more than you need."

What if the mightiest word is love, love beyond marital, filial, national. Love that casts a widening pool of light. Love with no need to preempt grievance.

In today’s sharp sparkle, this winter air, anything can be made, any sentence begun.

On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp -- praise song for walking forward in that light.

Sunday, March 15, 2009

a question of significance

Today is the Sunday before exam week, winter quarter 2009. I'm being explicit with the date because it is more than likely the close of the quarter that signifies not only my last bit of real required coursework in this PhD, but also the end of the first and likely only statistics course I will ever take. By Tuesday, 11:30 am, I will (hopefully) have lodged into my brain the range of quantitative methods that began with the probability of drawing an ace of spades, and ends with multiple regression, bivariate correlations, and the importance of R squared. We've most certainly come a long way.

Our final lab project ('our' here is my fabulous partner Naji and I) utilizes a multi-country global data set from 2000 in an attempt to discern which factors reported (independent variables) ultimately have a significant effect on income inequality (the Gini index). The fact that I can even write that sentence and know what it means is substantial progress for those of us who live primarily in the right side of our brain. On several occasions, I have compared the mental process of taking a math class to the slow turning of a giant freighter in a narrow canal (not so unlike the intended mission of the bailout package on the US economy) or the struggle to crank a wheel that has sat hidden and rusted for years (not so unlike that cartoon of a thing that seems to unhinge the island in time on LOST). Nine and a half weeks in, the gears have loosened and the fallout is at least comprehendible, if not comprehensive. Though I won't hide my excitement that the end of the struggle is near, I also can't help but be just a bit excited about the baby steps of inchoate bridging something like statistics provides. As someone consciously and laboriously building a bridge between the humanities/arts/architecture and social sciences, an awareness of the vocabulary and concepts that form the basis for 'substantiating' quantitative research might very well come in handy.

On the flip side, however, it also reveals itself as a shaky house of cards. If I've learned nothing else, I've most certainly learned that randomness is very important business and is the key to predicting everything (as in you must have random samples) and simultaneously the key to determining just how possible the probable might be (how confident or not you are in your results). Yes, what the 'outside world' (outside of quantitative methods) has been lead to believe is a more precise and exact form of research, is mostly the task of laboriously proving that results do, at best, hold some truthiness (thank you Stephen Colbert). Which is, actually, its own kind of rigor.

What statistics can also do, though, is gauge significance. By using the SPSS computer program (the wizard for us stats adolescents), you can determine the degree to which one factor in a data set influences another factor. (You stats people are laughing out loud at my over simplification. You other people are thinking - why on earth does this matter at all?) Briefly (taken from our current lab project), if we're trying to determine why a country has income inequality, we can test a correlation hypothesis in SPSS and it will tell us that, yes, how much a country spends on health care is significantly correlated to its level of income inequality. And then if we run that same test with other variables - say life expectancy or degree of urbanization - ultimately, we hope, we can find more and more of the factors that relate to income inequality and then, in the long run, work to change those factors to make societies more equal. Ah, if it were only so easy....

Which brings us to the class I am teaching at Otis. Two weeks ago we had an 'intervention' of sorts. Struggling with the students' lack of commitment to the assignments, my astute co-teacher recommended we have an open session within which we could air our concerns, hopefully address them, and move past them to some real progress. It was a fantastic session and one really enlightening issue that emerged was, also, this question of significance. Here we are working with people who are homeless, one student said, and we're talking about making art. What good does art do - shouldn't we be doing something more significant? And, in turn, is promoting 'awareness' - one of our project options - a significant enough concern of art making? (As a short aside, it is interesting to imagine this in statistical terms, to ask if there really is some sort of correlation between an increase in awareness and a reduction in homelessness, or a reduction in the abuse that those living on the streets frequently receive.)

Of course I'm a strong believer in the fact that, in lieu of finding a way to house everyone in a single semester, there are thousands of alternative ways to contribute meaningfully to the lives and plight of people who find themselves marginalized. And, to bring this back to the cause of the week, that doing something with the smallest degree of significance is better than doing nothing at all.

I so often find myself speaking to people who are immobilized by the magnitude of the world's problems. Particularly now, when they seem so huge and so close to home. So, in honor of my stats final and my new found direction with my Otis class, I'm asking everyone to get unstuck, to turn the crank of small possibility, and do something that may seem insignificant, but isn't. And then do it again. And then do something else. Don't worry for now that you're not solving the big problems, not answering the big questions. Don't let the magnitude of need hold you back. Give yourself permission to warm up to greater things, greater risks even.

An easy one that I've noticed is buying a box of Girl Scout cookies. According to USA Today, Girl Scout cookie pre-orders were down 19% this year due to the economy and particularly harsh winter weather. Much of the funds they raise go to scholarships and community projects; one troop in Atlanta has used creative capitalism techniques to get buyers who can't or shouldn't eat the cookies themselves to purchase a box to be given to Operation Sandbox and sent to troops in Iraq and Afghanistan. It may seem insignificant, it may even be insignificant, but what stats has taught us, is that the most unlikely contributors might also prove to be vital. This week, allow even the smallest of opportunities - picking up trash, recycling something you usually don't bother to wash, giving away the 75 cents in your pocket - to become significant in its own right. Building on the small acts is the very thing that makes them worthwhile.


**thanks to the poster design team in my Otis class for this bit of visual research.

Sunday, March 8, 2009

A quick follow-up

For those who have not already seen this on Archinect, here is a link to their recently completed survey on the state of things in architecture as well as articles on the profession and the economy. It's not particularly optimistic, but near the end of the survey there are several participants who echo the possibility for opportunity this disaster has cracked open. There is one article as well entitled 'Reading material for unemployed architects' which I was hoping was going to be a survey of the most common books we all own but have never had the time to read. Alas, it was just another advice column. So I'm adding my interpretation of that title to the list of things to do during your unrequested vacation. As we turn the corner towards spring, is it those classics you skimmed in high school, Delirious New York, Complexity & Contradiction, Deleuze, Kant, or Lacan that you've never had time to really read? Marshall McLuhan, Richard Sennett, Kerouac (the new version, as written originally, is out in paperback!)?

And on a completely lighter note (isn't humor supposed to be the best medicine?), I wrote a few months back about the Ben & Jerry's flavor, Yes PeCan! that was being sold as part of a pro-Obama fundraising effort for the Common Cause Education Fund. This past week I received a follow up email forwarded from my friend Alex. Here is a selection of the George W Bush alternatives to Yes PeCan! as suggested to Ben & Jerry's by a comic (and fictitous) public. Enjoy:

- Grape Depression
- The Housing Crunch
- Abu Grape
- Nut'n Accomplished
- Iraqi Road
- Chock 'n Awe
- WireTapioca
- Guantanmallow
- imPeachmint
- Heck of a Job, Brownie!
- Neocon Politan
- The Reese's-cession
- Cookie D'oh!
- Nougalar Proliferation
- Death by Chocolate... and Torture
- Freedom Vanilla Ice Cream
- Chocolate Chip On My Shoulder
- Credit Crunch
- Mission Pecanplished
- Country Pumpkin
- Chunky Monkey in Chief
- WMDelicious
- Chocolate Chimp
- Caramel Preemptive Stripe


Personally, I'm sticking happily with my Yes PeCan!

Sunday, March 1, 2009

Finding Opportunity in Catastrophe

In the last month and a half, cause of the week has expanded somewhat from its initial objective of easy actionable items to a broader set of calls, contextualized in positive ideological frameworks that support larger and more long-lasting evolutions. This is primarily the work of the four invited guests who raise the very valuable points that external change requires a kind of systemic vision of interrelationships (the taco and immigrant rights; health and the planning of sidewalks) and internal change a kind of reinvention of identity and purpose (practice as an activist and you are one step closer to being one). Encouraging everyone to capitalize on the vast value of design and designers has both internal and external implications and, by the day, seems more and more timely. Both small actions and shifting beliefs are valid and valuable, and I hope to continue to balance the small and the large, providing easy opportunities to act now with bigger inspirations for long-range influence.

This week's 'cause' is inspired by an email exchange among friends and former UNCC students. According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, the number of unemployed in the US increased an additional 598,000 in January to 11.6 million total. The percentage of unemployed rose from 7.2 to 7.6%. I can't quickly locate the numbers for architects alone, but I can tell you from simple anecdotal experience, reductions in the field are massive and pervasive. Not one person I have spoken to in practice remains unaffected. Everyone is either laying off or being laid off, cutting benefits or cutting jobs all together. As we're all beginning to realize, this is a problem that starts and ends at the banks. The layoffs are not simply from a loss of new work, but also from a freeze in work already awarded or in early stages of development where necessary financing is no longer available to move the project forward. In this instance, trickle down economics is most definitely working - to the detriment of all. Less loans mean less commissions mean less construction; a loss of jobs in architecture firms means the ranks of unemployed construction workers from drywallers to day laborers will be growing exponentially. No wonder the AIA sent lobbyists to DC to fight for a slice of the stimulus pie.

The loss of jobs and the overall downturn of the economy is most certainly disastrous. Yet, as Naomi Klein reminds us in The Shock Doctrine, and Lawrence Vale and Thomas Campanella in The Resilient City, the flip side of every disaster is opportunity.** Not to downplay the direness of the situation, but this email exchange I referred to above and the other conversations I've had with peers in floundering firms, seems to be proving Bryan Bell right and then some. Our training is solid and broad; our ability to be inventive and resilient is inspiring in the face of uncertainty. What the down turn in the economy seems to be doing for architecture and its aspirants is multi-fold, and well worth capitalizing on. Here are several ways to imagine collective optimism rising from the ashes of economic catastrophe:

First, the growth machine has come to a screeching halt. Finally. The neoliberal insistence on growth for the sake of growth has been a prime contributor to a quantity over quality mentality that has left our built environment a collage of steroidal disasters. The opportunity here is to shift the priority from quantity to quality and consider more carefully the what, where, and how of design and building. Or of shopping, for that matter, or of eating, or of our precious leisure time. With less to go around, it's twice as important to make wise decisions rather than simply make decisions. Some of the projects that have been halted are probably better off dead.

Second, we are a profession always short on money and even more short on time. This is the chance to hit a reset button and take back our lives. This is a chance to amend the abusive practices that have become ingrained in the architectural habitus. This is a chance to reconsider the 60 hour work week, the unpaid overtime, the under-paid intern. When firms rebuild post-recession, let's ratchet up the expectations we have of ourselves to be good stewards of our peers, our colleagues, our clients, and our employees. Let's not sell ourselves or our abilities short, but recognize that good work takes time, energy, vision, and commitment, all of which grow more sturdy in healthy individuals. This is not a call to laziness, but a call to some kind of normalcy we have lost. Reset.

At the same time, let's also reset our egos - but not our confidence - and embrace the opportunity to become a less autonomous part of a larger, interrelated world. At the same time, let's make contributing to the people and the places less likely to be served by our expertise a part of the new priorities.

An opportunistic part of these layoffs is also the current luxury of time. What I was most impressed with in these email exchanges among UNCC graduates is how many of them are using new found time to explore things they have had to shelve for years or to move forward on objectives they normally would have had to squeeze in between work and sleep. They are studying for and taking the Architectural Registration Exam (go Fish!), LEED certification tests, and the "NABCEP photovoltaic system design and installer certification" (go Nick!). They are attending workshops on energy and green design and going back to school in record numbers, according to Archinect and the latest stats on grad school enrollment (go Joe and his MBA in Real Estate!); and they are doing design competitions - a freedom of time, energy, and creativity often sucked away by the daily commitment of office work.

These layoffs, awful as they are, also are an opportunity to re-evaluate what you have been doing and what you hope to be doing next. Many, many of the emails and calls I have received start sentences with, "I will never again...." ... work for the man, sell my soul, be trapped inside for 60 hours a week, 'design' another hospital, sacrifice my health. Or, even more simply, will never work at a large firm or for corporate clients. So many of us boarded the train of architecture and followed its trajectory rather than leading it. Now is the chance to take that trajectory into our own hands, or hop this train for another one - even a very related one. My good friend Tim first thought that when his impending layoff came, he would come to California, camp on the coast for a few months and paint. He's an amazing landscape painter and never has had the luxury of time to pursue it fully. Yet, when he did get laid off about a week ago, he fortuitously found himself in conversation with representatives from the state about getting a job documenting and evaluating state park structures, a way to get back in touch with nature and interact with and serve the public - something he's been missing while sitting behind a computer for the last decade.

Finally, there is the question of the architecture that already exists and what's to be done with the market glut of the unsellable and the unleasable. Again, this bursting of the bubble is a form of much-needed market leveling, but that fact doesn't do much for the millions of vacant square feet of leasable space and thousands of unsellable or undervalued homes. Nate brought up this issue, as his property firm alone has 1.5 million square feet of unleased office space, and suggested that there must be alternative adaptation/reuse/reinvention strategies for what's already out there, underutilized. LA Forum ran a design competition in 2004 that sought new uses for dead malls. The conclusion in their case, I would say, was that the market-driven, privatized, single use model of the mall is no longer a naturally sustainable one. The best entries converted the inward focused and locally isolated mall into a region-specific, multi-use, public/private framework that capitalized on large spans, vast areas of flat pavement, and cheap space to invent new, socially-conscious and sustainable models of collectivity and commerce. Nate's question is a good one - and likely to be THE question for the coming generation of designers: what can we do with the underutilized stock we already have? Vertical farming, anyone?

Personally, as always, I'm inspired by the proactive nature of our UNCC grads and, generally, most of the architects I come across who work on a regular basis for long hours and for little money to make a mark on the landscape that elevates the experiences of all who pass by or occupy. It's no easy task, even when times are flush, to do good work. Yet, it seems this latest catastrophe might be the impetus for some reconsideration, and (fingers crossed) this stimulus package might go beyond repair to reinvention. This week, these weeks, how can we use this as a moment of pause on the often too fast road of our career pursuits? Like that sign I found in Biloxi post-Katrina, the house may be gone, but the people and trees are fine, so let's get to work.

And Obama, if you are listening, I know some hard-working experts looking for new opportunities.



**a much greater consideration of disasters and architecture from our PhD colloquium, Uneasy Urbanism: Incidents and Accidents under Dana Cuff, will be published this spring in PLACES magazine.