A Journey to Principled Design

By Jaya Kader, AIA 

Last December, during the week of Art Basel, Design Miami and numerous other Art fairs and events in the Sunshine City, I helped Caroline James put together a panel of women who practice architecture, titled “Principled Design”.  Sponsored by the AIA Miami, Miami Center for Architecture & Design, Women in Architecture Miami, and Harvard GSD Women in Design, the event was successful in weaving into an already established Harvard Alumni Program Weekend. 

The panel delved into a lively discussion on the various life experiences that architects bring into their practices and addressed such concepts as “principles, aesthetic aspirations, social concerns, joint creativity, range and structures of practice, and forms of collaboration.”   I was touched by the deep conversations that ensued as Caroline probed the panelists’ minds with questions such as:

• What values do you bring into the design process, such as beauty or social concern?
• Are there moral principles in design practice? 
• Are there ways that those values translate into how you practice, such as the acknowledgment of joint creativity and collaboration?

Principled Design participants: (Front Row, L to R): Louise Braverman, Lourdes Solera, Marilys Nepomechie, and Caroline James. (Middle Row): Nati Soto, Elizabeth Camargo, and Jaya Kader. (Back Row): Carie Penabad and Arielle Assouline-Lichten 

Personally, the panel was a culmination of a two-year journey that helped me transition from being a sole practitioner in a home office, to opening a studio that is now an architectural practice of seven and growing.  There were many stations visited during this journey, and in hindsight, it is not surprising that most of them had to do with gender issues.  It is interesting that this personal/professional transformation coincided with significant events that have revealed and addressed the glaring gender issues in our profession and society at large.  For the first time since I graduated architecture school in 1988, I am finally able to weave the two most integral and essential components of my life; being a mother of four and an architect (indeed an “Archimom”) into one conversation.  For years I juggled these two roles, always downplaying one while I was engaged in the other, without clarity or synthesis.

Although I did not meet Caroline James until September 2014, I had reached out to her since I learned about the petition to the Pritzker Prize on behalf of Denise Scott Brown.  Caroline, along with Arielle Assouline-Lichten had spearheaded the petition in March of 2013, while they were students at the GSD and members of Women in Design. Understanding the implications of the petition and its subsequent refusal from the Pritzker Jury was my first call to action as a woman architect.   Up until that time, I, as well as other women architects of my generation with whom I have had these conversations, have operated with what I now call “blinders”; happy and grateful to do the work whenever it was possible, overlooking any distractions that would put our jobs in jeopardy.  But the events that followed made it impossible to continue to wear the “blinders.”

Credit: Julia Morgan Papers, Special Collections, California Polytechnic State University

Last year, Julia Morgan became the first woman to receive the AIA Gold Medal posthumously, honoring her prolific practice that spanned several decades during the first half of the 20th Century.  I had never heard of Julia Morgan, despite years of education at top institutions of higher learning.  I was privileged to attend the AIA Convention in Chicago and witness Beverly Willis' passionate speech following the Gold medal award.  For those not familiar with Beverly Willis, she established the Beverly Willis Architecture Foundation (BWAF) in 2002 with the mission of, “changing the culture of the building industry so that women’s work, whether in contemporary practices or historical narratives, is acknowledged, respected and valued”.  An audience of thousands gave her a standing ovation at the convention, as she stated some hard truths regarding gender in architecture.

Beverly Willis delivering her speech in honor of Julia Morgan.

Outside our profession there have been parallel conversations that affect women in all fields.  Recent publications such as Sheryl Sandberg's “Lean In”, Debora L. Spar's “Wonder Women” and Anne Mary Slaughter's famed article “Why Women Can't Have it All” in the Atlantic, have changed the landscape of gender issues across professional and leadership fields.  And still there were those with whom I tried to engage in needed conversations around equity and inclusion, who dismissed my concerns as “problems of women from my generation.”  “The new generation of women (the so called ‘millennials’) just don't have your issues”, I was told by some.  So I wondered...  But shortly thereafter, there was Emma Watson's HeForShe 2014 campaign speech at the UN, one that clarified for everyone not only that the gender issues are ever present in 21st century western society--for women of all generations--but also highlighted a certain urgency to address them.

The last event that confirmed my call to action was my attendance at the third sold out symposium hosted by The Missing 32% Project titled "Equity by Design: Knowledge, Discussion, Action!" in San Francisco last October.

Equity by Design: Knowledge, Discussion, Action on October 18, 2014. 

The conference was a transformative experience. As I heard speakers and witnessed the data from the early findings of the Equity in Architecture Survey first hand, I finally understood how difficult the system is set up for women to succeed in our profession.  I was most captivated by the keynote speaker, Stewart Friedman, a Wharton Professor, whose research and scholarship have contributed a new framework for the work/life balance conundrum. His work is helping us imagine a world beyond any preconceived notions of gender roles. Speaking about principles, the subject of our Miami “Principled Design” Panel, Friedman contends that AUTHENTICITY, INTEGRITY AND INNOVATION are the essential tenets to lead a life of purpose--the kind of life we all want.  Authenticity, he explains, demands that we stay true to our values which help clarify our vision.  Integrity allows us to respect the whole person, our environments and those around us. And innovation allows us to continuously search for new and creative ways to approach the work that we do. With these tools at hand, we should then map a future vision where our personal goals are in-sync with making significant contributions to our community, society and world. “Whatever your passions are”, he said, “CONVERT THEM TO SOCIAL VALUE”.  Which brings me back to the Women in Architecture Panel, the subject of this blog, “Principled Design.”

And it was no coincidence that “Principled Design” took place during a week of art and design “explosion” in Miami.  For it is clear that design matters, and architecture is a powerful tool to transform and enhance the human experience.  What we build has the potential to grace and contribute to our lives as well as our precious environments.  Long after we are gone, our contributions as architects will bear witness to our values.  There are all kinds of ways to practice architecture and both men and women that engage in practices across the spectrum.  I do sense however a shift in the profession from the emphasis on the hero designer and “starchitect” to a collaborative and service minded approach. 

So to all of us women who are part of this wondrous profession in 2015, I would like to encourage you to “lean in” and not give up on this profession. Do not become part of the Missing 32%.  Our society is in need of our contributions, and we happen to be a privileged generation.  We no longer have to remain silent, or with “blinders”, or in the background.  We are humbled with gratitude, and admiration for all the women pioneers that paved our path in a most hostile landscape, such as Julia Morgan, Denise Scott Brown and Beverly Willis. We can learn from them to be empowered through our knowledge and contributions but we need not be intimidated by obsolete norms of status quo.  We can be authentic.  We can sit at the table and have these conversations whose object is to figure out how we can work together towards an inclusive and diverse profession that recognizes and values all of its constituents.

To learn about Jaya Kader's amazing INSPIRE% journey click HERE

A New Era of Women Rising in the Architecture Profession

By Julia Donoho, AIA, Esq.

For two years in a row, women have made it into the top levels of competition for the highest honor of the American Institute of Architects.  Last year a singular architect, Julia Morgan, FAIA, was the recipient of the AIA Gold Medal and this year as a part of a collaborative duo – Denise Scott Brown, FRIBA, with Robert Venturi, FAIA, was a Finalist for the Gold Medal.  WOW!  This is an outstanding and historic moment for all women in the profession, however they practice.  And it is happening in a year when the third woman president of the AIA, Helene Combs Dreiling, FAIA, is passing the baton to the fourth woman president, Elizabeth Chu Richter, FAIA. The profession is becoming inclusive and diverse at the top levels.

AIA National Presidents:  Elizabeth Chu Richter, FAIA, Helene Combs Dreiling, FAIA, Kate Schwennsen, FAIA, and Susan Maxman, FAIA

How did we get here?  There are at least three threads of activity that are contributing to this change in awareness and activity.  There are the individual efforts of architects to promote and propel themselves forward, there are collective efforts like the AIA Women’s Leadership Summit, the Missing 32% Project, Women in Architecture, the Organization for Women in Architecture and then there is the Beverly Willis Architecture Foundation (BWAF) igniting and instigating change at the upper levels.  All of these efforts are necessary when the individual routes are not bearing fruit, but it is the individual efforts that are most telling.  Let’s look at one.

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Learning from Denise: In 1967, Denise Scott Brown was mid-career and a tenured faculty member at UCLA, Co-Chair of the Urban Planning program, when Robert Venturi asked her to be his partner in life and business.  She joined the firm of Venturi and Rauch and was made partner by 1969.  It was her bright, fresh, raw viewpoint coming from Johannesburg and London that embraced the American landscape as IS and led to Learning from Las Vegas. Melding her African, English and European training with urban planning and architectural academicism made her good and ready to ask students to look at the world differently. The studio at Yale came out of her vision and experience.  She embraced the American west, for ALL that that includes.  She shared her vision, included others in her studio, and put their names on the front of the book.  She was a collaborator.  The rest of the world, so blinded by the love of Starchitects, could only see the work as Venturi’s for many years.  

Image Caption: Bob and Denise stand alone in the desert in this collage (1966 study for Learning from Las Vegas). The team refuses to accept lone stature in the recognition of their work. Harry Bolick commented, “Architecture, design and creativity can be a symbiotic product of more than one person's individual vision. Bob and Denise were both willing to forego the AIA Gold Medal in favor of standing firm throughout a lifetime of creative production. Their forbearance represents how and why this culture shift has, finally, after 108 years, come to be recognized by the AIA and other leading Institutions.” Photographers: Robert Venturi (above) Denise Scott Brown (below)

It has taken us this long to be ready to see that the interweaving of design thinking from more than one viewpoint leads to a richer architectural expression.  Venturi and Scott Brown understood that from their first meeting in 1960, and that is why they are best known for introducing ideas in architecture that were radical and for shifting the consciousness of the profession.  The urban planning training from social scientists and activists at Penn affected Bob and Denise’s design work profoundly. More than that and more than architects realize, they hold the key to avoiding the urban architectural mistakes that Jane Jacobs described.  Venturi and Scott Brown’s work shows how to bring a powerful sense of place to bear in resolving architectural programs.

As early as 1973, Scott Brown saw that her work and her contribution to the firm, even though she was a partner, was being disregarded in the quest of others to reach the “Architect.”  That she was the “Architect” they could not believe, it was not in their realm of possibilities.  She started to speak on the experience at the Alliance for Women in Architecture in New York, and in 1975 wrote an article, “Room at the Top? Sexism and the Star System.”  At first she did not publish the article for concern about the reputation of her career and her firm.  Their work is all about complexity and contradiction, Venturi more historicist and she more PopArt, and their work was created through a collaborative process that brought these two views together in making architecture.   People wanted to see an ego architect, not a collaborative effort, so she lived with the contradiction.  She hoped societal change would move things along.  As time went on, the women’s movement took hold, but did not deliver the changes to her situation that she needed.   In 1989, fourteen years later, she published her article in the book Architecture, A Place for Women.  It created quite a stir.  It made people mad, they argued, they debated, they denied it was true, and they changed their viewpoint only slightly. 

In 1991, when the Pritzker organization decided to give her partner, Robert Venturi, their Prize in architecture, it became clear that the message was not being heard.  Venturi tried to tell them the award should go to both together but their ears could not hear.  They thought giving it to Venturi was enough.  Scott Brown did not attend the ceremony.  Her resolve to shift the viewpoint of the profession increased.  Robert Venturi agreed and took the position that he would not allow anyone to put his name forward for the Gold Medal without Denise Scott Brown. 

From then forward, Robert Venturi and Denise Scott Brown began their campaign to shift the rules of the AIA to allow the Gold Medal to be awarded to two creative people working together.   On numerous occasions, Venturi and Scott Brown were nominated to receive the AIA Gold Medal, and a portfolio was submitted to the American Institute of Architects.  It was returned without review.  The rules stated that only one individual could be nominated for the Gold Medal.  In 2013, Frederic Schwartz, FAIA, working through his AIA Regional Directors in New York – Tony Schirrippa, FAIA, and Burt Roslyn, FAIA, were successful in shifting the rules to allow the portfolio to be accepted.   2014 is the first year that the portfolio was not returned.  They made it into the Finalist round.  Perfect! 

Bob & Denise are titans in the field of Architecture and their most recent accomplishment, getting us to this point was a 47 year effort.  Such courage and perseverance, creative geniuses leading the way for multiple generations!  Now THAT is some lasting influence on the profession of architecture.  In 2014, in their 80’s, these two have changed us and changed the course of architectural history, AGAIN. 

This is a HISTORIC moment for the individuals stepping into these top level spots in leadership and in recognition, and for all women working in the field of architecture.  Just to recap – in two short years we have had a woman that worked as a sole principal win the Gold Medal, a woman that worked as a partner and collaborator become a finalist for the Gold Medal with her partner, a woman that led a career of service to the profession serving as President of the Institute, and a woman who works as a CEO for her architectural firm, now in the top position of service to the profession refocusing us onto the business of architecture.  WOW, these are changing times!

To the Editor: Inclusion, Recognition, and the 2015 AIA Gold Medal Decision

Architectural Record's December 11, 2014 news story, "AIA Chooses Moshe Safdie Over Venturi Scott Brown for Gold Medal," broke the story to this year's Gold Medal judging. Caroline James wrote a Letter to the Editor in response to this historic AIA Gold Medal decision on January 6, 2015. The following is the original letter with photos and image captions.

To the Editor:

Inclusion, Recognition, and the 2015 AIA Gold Medal Decision

The AIA National Jury announced their decision last month to award the Gold Medal to Moshe Safdie, an esteemed architect and educator whose work and influence spans many continents. The outcome, however, was surprising and disappointing to supporters of Denise Scott Brown and Robert Venturi. Many feel that their recognition by the AIA’s highest professional honor is long overdue. “Why didn’t they win?” they asked. As one of the spearheads with Arielle Assouline-Lichten and Women in Design of the Petition to Recognize Denise Scott Brown for her role in the Pritzker Prize, I would like to set this decision in the context of the last few years and the years to come.

The 2015 Gold Medal round was the first in history when the application for Venturi and Scott Brown was opened, considered, and embraced. Over three decades, many had urged Bob to apply on his own, but he refused to go for the Gold alone. Each of their joint applications was returned owing to old eligibility requirements that have since been amended. The placing of Bob and Denise among the finalists constitutes a momentous recognition of joint creativity in design. 

Assembling the Gold Medal nomination is a thorough process, brought forth by teams of supporters for each applicant who network with architects and others and secure letters of recommendation. For Bob and Denise, this support came from the profession, legacy firms, University Presidents, and architectural historians. Seven former Gold Medalists, perhaps a record-setting number, wrote letters on their behalf. The National AIA Committee on Design served as the official nominating entity. 

Billie Tsien, principal of New York-based Tod Williams Billie Tsien Architects, delivered the presentation at AIA National Headquarters. “I felt a big responsibility to make the presentation,” Tsien said, “It is the right thing to do. We know that architecture comes from many hands, but joint creativity is a mysterious and indescribable trait. The work that they’ve done is so intertwined.” Tsien’s presentation is historic, for it reveals the nature of their shared creative output.

Kem Hinton, FAIA, of Nashville’s Tuck-Hinton Architects, headed this year’s application with the help of many, including Julia Donoho, AIA, Esq. and Harry Bolick, VSBA Inc. Hinton added, “The late Fred Schwartz, FAIA, and his partner, editor and writer Tracey Hummer, led this effort with the support of so many across the nation. Having witnessed the remarkable collaboration of Denise and Bob, I am elated at the progress. Now onward to the next swing at the bat for this dynamic duo.” 

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Image Caption: Artist Ann Hawkins etches Julia Morgan’s name into the black granite on the pantheon of the AIA National Headquarters. Julia Donoho, AIA, Esq. led the 2014 nomination process for Morgan, and also worked with the Venturi and Scott Brown nominating team. Donoho said, "This success for men and women working in partnership is a victory 47 years in the making. A new story is being told about how creative collaboration can succeed. The work of Bob and Denise is a weaving together of two great talents to create a body of work of lasting influence on the profession. It was a privilege to be part of telling that story." Image Credit: Jack Evans

On the evening that the Gold Medal decision was announced, I spoke with Denise, who underscored the positive impacts and progress in the profession over the last two years that cannot be taken away:

Positive #1: Julia Morgan in 2014 became the first woman architect to receive the AIA Gold Medal, over 60 years after her death. She was as prolific as Frank Lloyd Wright in terms of output, building over 700 projects, including Hearst Castle.

Positive #2: The AIA amended the rules to allow partners to receive the Gold Medal for the first time. Eligibility guidelines for the Gold Medal now state: “Any individual (not necessarily an American or an architect); or two individuals working together (but only if their collaborative efforts over time are recognized as having created a singular body of distinguished architectural work) ….” 

Image Caption: Bob and Denise stand alone in the desert in this collage (1966 study for Learning from Las Vegas). The team refuses to accept lone stature in the recognition of their work. Harry Bolick commented, “Architecture, design and creativity can be a symbiotic product of more than one person's individual vision. Bob and Denise were both willing to forego the AIA Gold Medal in favor of standing firm throughout a lifetime of creative production. Their forbearance represents how and why this culture shift has, finally, after 108 years, come to be recognized by the AIA and other leading Institutions.” Photographers: Robert Venturi (above) Denise Scott Brown (below)

Positive #3: Denise said the Pritzker Petition brought much “love” to architecture. This was her compliment to nearly 20,000 signers, many of whom made statements on change.org that communicate their support, and also wider thoughts and concerns about the profession. Denise interprets the Petition as a social document—a datum on where architecture stands in 2013-2014. In her 2013 lecture at the Harvard Graduate School of Design, she elaborated, calling petitioners’ comments, “Mayhew’s Architecture,” in reference to an historic report on conditions of workers in London during the Industrial Revolution.

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Image Caption: Denise Scott Brown delivers “Mayhew’s Architecture” at the Harvard Graduate School of Design in 2013. In a note to Scott Brown, Italian architect Carolina Vaccaro wrote that the Petition is “the worldwide acknowledgment that your outsider ideas and research are still (and will be for a long time) the best source any architect can have!” Image Credit: Beth Roloff

The 2015 Gold Medal round and these positive outcomes are all part of a process towards understanding and resolving issues of inclusion within a contemporary context. It’s not without fits and starts, and it’s not just for partners, or women, or Denise Scott Brown. Women in Design, The Missing 32% Project, and the Beverly Willis Architecture Foundation have joined organizations worldwide in leading the charge towards an inclusive and diverse profession that recognizes all its constituents. Many overlapping dialogues and controversies are shifting the course of the profession and recent events suggest the efforts are succeeding. Bob and Denise’s supporters will likely re-nominate them next year for the AIA Gold Medal. This year’s jury and supporters are enthusiastic in recommending they should. Everything considered here suggests the same.

Caroline James

Women in Design - Cambridge, MA

January 6, 2015

I Make Things - Jame L. Anderson, AIA

I make things; the labels we wear, the ways we define who we are and what we do.

When we are born, we get our first label.  On a form generated at the birthing center, hospital, or other, we are designated as Boy or Girl, Male or Female….Baby Girl So-and-So.  Generally, at the hospital, our last names are first our mother’s, before the birth certificate and naming conventions begin.

But at that moment, we are labeled, even before our parents label us.  With this little tag, much of our cultural norms follow: the pink or the blue.  No matter how hard one may try as a parent to skirt these norms and create something un-stereotypical, it is ever present. Then, we get the next label that our parents choose for us, our name. I’m a Jame—not a Jamie, or Jaime, or Jayme.  My Dad is James, thus Jame.

I have discovered that I carry a lot of those little titles on my Self. 

But starting at the beginning, I have always made things. From little ghost scribbles on the white walls of my parents’ home, to sculptures of the slate roofs of caving in barns out in our fields, I have always made things.  When I was in high school I made things and was labeled “artistic”.  Then I went to college and made more things, and considered myself and gave myself the label of “Artist”. 

These labels begin to become part of our identity and in a country preoccupied with what everyone does for a living, this is especially true. When I left the sanctuary which is the college art studio, and struck out in the world on my own, I continued to make things…but they were for other people, things in museums. Not the artifacts, the stuff around the artifacts.  Then I went back to school again. I chose an art school with an architecture program.  On entering, I never considered I’d ever be an “Architect” with that capital A.  I’m not really sure what I thought I was going to do; make really big sculptures perhaps?  But the little girl that used to dress up as Thomas Jefferson in rural Virginia was a grown up girl at RISD (Rhode Island School of Design) in the process of realizing that making buildings would be the next thing to do.  So I strove to define myself with another label.

I recall that in 1998, when I completed my Masters, the statistics held that 12% of licensed architects were women. I was amazed.  Amazed.  It was 1998 after all.  What happened to the burning of bras and to Virginia Wolf, Germaine Greer, Camille Paglia, Naomi Wolf and Gloria Steinem? It was as if I was reading Linda Nochlin again while sitting around a triangular dinner table eating from really strange plates.  With this knowledge I pushed forward and took exams and got my next label, AIA...Architect.  Boy, I showed them!

Somewhere after that I got another set of letters, this time at the front of my name. MRS. (Although my last name stayed the same.)  I was legally partnered with my soulmate, declared my love in front of 92 people and ate some cake. I was a fish with a bicycle and enjoying it.

But I was still “making things” (in quotations). At this point, I drew things, designed things, coordinated things that other people “made”. Hardhat and boots on, I stood on construction sites, argued with contractors and did everything an Architect should.  And I was part of a really big team that made really permanent things.  But I was definitely in the minority on site, and that first label was omnipresent.

The label of artist was becoming more and more a distant thing, switching perhaps to lower case and the upper case Architect took over. I then switched artistic capacities, moving in house to an incredible museum.  There, I designed things-that-other-people-made-that-made-things-that-other-people-made look good (if you can follow).  I was marrying art and architecture, or trying to.  I got to hold Picassos and install Rothkos and talk art, and design space.  One day somebody called me an exhibit designer and I wondered, is that what I am? What is the set of dress up clothes for that profession?

Then, I made my masterpiece, and got my next label, and honestly the one that has changed the most aspects of my life: the label of “Mom”, “Mommy”, Mother. This new label: did it obscure all of the other ones?  I make things for her too – things I never could have imagined making.  A non-cook who would prefer to use a drill or a welding torch to a sewing needle, my daughter’s requests have pushed my making into even newer territory.  I was taught never to learn to sew, cook or type because then someone would expect you to do so, but now I find that these new things are making challenges of their own.

So, I took a trip. Back to France and to stand in front of my two BFFs: Nike and Venus.

My soul mate/best friend/spouse was with me and we had a talk.  I was questioning who I was and it had dawned on me that it wasn’t having a child, that it wasn’t any career strife, it was that I had become distant from the direct making. I was 40.  (Maybe it was the zero.)

So I renovated an attic and got to work. 

I don’t make “art” for others.  Those objects are mine: uncompromised, unshared, things that exist in my own mind.  I use what I find in my studio and my home – readily available materials that are sometimes the cheapest and most immediate sort.  They, often, mark the passage of time in the least graceful manner.

I am still very interested in what is termed by many as “women’s issues” although I no longer see them as just affecting women – they are shared by us all.  I am interested in our labels and lines and intersections: boy/girl, pink/blue, black/white, either/or, virgin/whore, in/out, dead/alive, good/bad and either that line that separates them, or the space between them and the symmetry that is formed by them.

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I am wondering about the term “artist” and all my other labels.  Which one is accurate?  Which one should I choose?

Art is not my profession, does that make the label untrue? I am a “person engaged in one or more of the broad spectrum of activities related to creating art, practicing the arts or demonstrating an art”.  So why have I not called myself an artist lately?  When did I no longer exist as one in my mind?

Am I an Architect with a capital A?  I am not in private practice, I have not built a building in several years and I do not have my own firm bearing my own name as the ‘big boys’ do, although I still have a piece of paper from the state of Virginia and a membership in the AIA. 

What does that make me?

I’m a wearer of all of these labels—Architect, Designer, Mom, Wife, Woman, and countless other things too.  I am not Pablo Picasso, Frank Gehry, or Coco Channel and I don’t need to be.  In fact, I don’t want to be.  And by defining myself, these labels are only adjectives, personifiers of me that speak to my experience, which I have learned helps me to make me, Me. 

So, what do I do? What am I?

I make things.

Written by Jame L. Anderson, AIA

She's an Architect! Judith Edelman on Sesame Street

The recent New York Times Op Ed "How to Rebuild Architecture" written by Steven Bingler and Martin C. Pedersen on Dec. 15, 2014 raises the question:  At what point does architecture’s potential to improve human life become lost because of its inability to connect with actual humans? 

When I was growing up, public television (in particular Sesame Street) was a big part of our afternoons; learning our numbers, colors, etc. I remember seeing this episode back in the day with Judith Edelman demonstrating what an Architect does. She didn't say much, and kids narrated most of the segment. But by just being part of the video, and showing what she does as an Architect, she inspired many young designers through her appearance on Sesame Street in 1975, including a future employee!

Recently, this video was made public (many thanks to Benjamin Edelman). I thought it was a great reminder to us all of the importance of doing great work; but it is also equally important to share what we do as Architects with children in a connected and meaningful way. 

Written by Rosa T. Sheng, AIA

An Archimom's Everyday Moments of Truth: Maia Kumari Gilman, RA

Maia Kumari Gilman

When I went into architecture school, I had a loose idea that one day, I would be an architect working in a collaborative environment with four or five equal peers, each of us focused on our own projects. Since that time, I’ve worked for firms ranging in size from two to 120, by myself in private practice, and with my architect husband in partnership. Now, I’m back to being a sole practitioner, and I’m taking time off from it to write books.

I’ve created something akin to that collective of four or five equal architect peers: it’s my local archi-mom group. We get together sporadically for coffee and we share the details of work, of solo practice, and of parenting. Some of us are married to architects. Some of us have too much work, and some of us don’t have a lot. Some have taken long breaks. Some never make it to meetings, and our group connection is online. I imagine that our days dovetail in some ways. What follows is a description of an atypical day in my own archi-mom life, inspired by the Archimom blog posts curated by Rosa Sheng and Bob Borson's A Day in the Life of an Architect as part of #Architalks.

5:55 a.m. Alarm rings and I wake up halfway. I have jet lag because I’m on West Coast time, having just arrived back on the East Coast after a short trip to Vancouver.

7:10 a.m. Youngest recalls that the homework he must complete before breakfast is not actually due today; oldest reminds us he no longer wants to play viola. Husband handles the delicate emotions of the violist and I navigate homework.

8:10 a.m. School starts but everyone is still at home. I drive them up the hill and I no longer feel guilty about doing that! I am progressing in my parenting and devolving in my environmentalism. Husband is on the train into Manhattan. Until last year, I worked in the city and at one point I also had a downtown office in my wee suburb; now I work from home. I share in a collective workspace of women entrepreneurs in Manhattan called In Good Company. I love that it’s there for me if and when I need it for a meeting.

9:37 a.m. I am sitting down to write this post. I listened to 30 minutes of guided meditation on my laptop first, because what else do you do when you’ve just come back from a trip and you work from home and you are facing a pile of laundry? You do not check work email. You do not do laundry. You meditate.

Planning the Novel

9:45 a.m. I sent out my novel manuscript on Friday to several literary agents and I am very curious to see if and how anyone has responded while I’ve been out of town. I have work to do on the new novel I’m writing. I keep turning down design work to focus on writing the first novel, and now the next. If Deepak Chopra or a similarly inspired individual wrote to me and asked me to design a retreat center, I’d say yes. This is the kind of project I’d like to build toward. One of my favorite design projects so far as a sole practitioner was a yoga studio right here in the place I live, called South Mountain Yoga. More like that, please! The work builds upon my background in green building as well as in Reiki and subtle energy work. Otherwise, design projects are being referred out. I seem to get a constant stream of calls for new architectural work, which is nice, but I’m not accepting typical clients right now. I suppose that’s because I’m an atypical architect.

9:48 a.m. I usually walk for 30-60 minutes before I sit down at my desk but instead I’ve been meditating and writing this post. I have 10 minutes left for a quick walk now, before I get to work. Work today will involve 1. checking in on the progress of my manuscript in the literary agent world; 2. organizing my notes for the next novel (my novels all involve architects so watch out for them!); 3. responding to queries for design work.

10:48 a.m. I got an email from Deepak Chopra! It was advertising, but I’m still tickled.

South Mountain Yoga Studio

11:39 a.m. For the purposes of this post and its architect-readers, I decided to track the time it takes to complete certain tasks that are unique to being an architect, an archi-mom, etc. Efficiency is key. So far, and according to the stopwatch on my phone:

1. Renew NY State Architecture License. Took 3 minutes 41.7 seconds to email the board with a follow up.
2. Renew NCARB Certificate. Took 9 minutes 53.2 seconds to determine that my NCARB certificate is good for another year.
3. Double check on LEED-AP BD+C status online. A longer story. I’ll just note for the record that this took 19 minutes 4.9 seconds.
4. Order groceries online. Took only 2 minutes 57.4 seconds to order a week’s worth of groceries for our family of four. Not sure about the eco-friendliness of the Fresh Direct truck, but it can’t be worse than me driving around on multiple trips in a fifteen year old minivan.

12:28 p.m. Reviewed three decades of poetry I’ve written and decided it is time to write more, to not recycle the old. Still have to lay out all the index cards with the new story ideas. At one point in my writing process I equated it to an architectural design and construction project, and tracked my writing and editing progress accordingly. For the first novel, I’d say that Construction Documents have been completed. The novel still needs to be filed and bid. For the second novel, I’d say I’m in early Schematic Design. A lovely phase.

12:53 p.m. Sat down for a few minutes with the new This Old House magazine that arrived, along with a light lunch. Was impressed by two bathroom renovations featured in the magazine. Also, when did This Old House begin running Viagra ads?

1:07 p.m. Read through some more of the Day in the Life of an Architect blogs inspired by Bob Borson and the Archimom posts curated by Rosa Sheng. Rosa asked what my Secret Sauce is. I would say, meditating. Today I was too sleepy with jet lag and kept nodding off, hence the guided meditations I listened to instead. As an architect, I find that meditation has an interesting effect on one’s sense of space: it alters it. Light and shadow are more clearly defined. Sensitivity to air currents, smells and sounds are heightened. It’s not just during the meditation. It’s after. Definitely a Secret Sauce. And it’s one I’m happy to share.

Rosa also asked about ten things I do every day, or even on an atypical day. I do these regularly now that I’m writing more and designing less. When I get back into my next design project, I will take these writing practices with me. I think the practices will make me a better architect. It’s because writers notice details in a way that is slightly different from architects. At least, this writer-architect does.

Here are the ten:

1. Meditate.
2. Involve myself with music.
3. Carry my own homemade food.
4. Spend time outside, regardless of the weather.
5. Take photos on my phone, write little vignettes about where I am, draw small sketches – no matter what’s going on. Every day.
6. Appreciate the sky, and let my gaze soften on it.
7. Drink a warm beverage (or two or three or four).
8. Jump into the creative stream and go with it.
9. Set goals, write them down, create grids, fill them in.
10. Celebrate small milestones.

2:22 p.m. Kids will be home soon. For me, now: a hot drink and a review of the index cards, some note-taking based on the inspirations that accompanied my walk. I often walk with index cards and a pen for that purpose, but it was too chilly today to stop and write. Most of my musings in the past few days have been on the idea of the horizon, so that will probably show up in a future novel.

2:56 p.m. They’re home and they’re reading books. This is typical. I will read for a few minutes as well. I’m currently half way through Laraine Herring’s Writing Begins with the Breath. And she’s right, it does. I wonder if I would say the same of architecture. I used to say that design began with people. Now, I’d say it’s for people and is formed by people, but that it begins with an inspiration. And inspiration begins with the breath. So there you go.

3:12 p.m. Kids usually begin homework at 4:00 or 4:30 but today, youngest is asking to begin right away. Helps to have diligent and interested kids! We’re very fortunate to be part of an excellent public school system.

4:16 p.m. It’s time to do some housework. I will go from room to room in some kind of methodical way, or I will use my friend Ann’s Bingley Gallop’s Feng Shui method of picking up 27 things. Twenty-seven is magical. Seems to work: by the time you’ve reached 27, you’re on a roll and you get the whole job done with ease. Moving 27 things has led to rearranging furniture. An occupational hazard?

5:11 p.m. Quiet day in the house, and the kids are in a bookish mode. Wonder where they get that from? Dinner soon. Since it is nearing the end of the official work day, I will check on the status of the agents and my novel. I’ve heard back from two agents. One is interested to read more, and another is not interested but thinks another agency might be, and gave me their information. Also, an indie publisher is interested to read more. It is all at that not-yet-gelled stage, but it will get there. The first book has a focus on fracking – hydraulic fracturing. The second one (in progress) has a focus on medical marijuana. The third one, which I’m still brainstorming, will have a focus on high speed transport. I’m tackling all of these issues through the lens of architecture (yes, even the medical marijuana one). My mode of storytelling is to leave the reader in a position to make up her own mind, to allow him to indulge in multiple viewpoints.

Today is the day to clear out the inboxes of stuff I have been waiting to resolve. Here we go:

1. Declined to be part of a reality TV show that features New York area architects. I still can’t tell if it was a legitimate proposal. Plus, I’m not designing right now. They could follow me and my index cards around for meditative walks! That would make for exciting television.
2. Redirected a persistent fan’s query. I have a loyal band of followers on Twitter and Facebook who send me questions on everything from writing to meditation to how to arrange the furniture in their children’s bedrooms.
3. Received a Request for Proposals for NYC Hurricane Sandy-related design services. I am not interested in pursuing it, but it reminded me that I let my New York City WMBE certification application lapse when I left work in Manhattan last year. I’m happy with that decision for now.

Kids are still reading and doing homework. They’re not usually this quiet. They’ve had a few days of back-to-back playdates and dinners out, while I’ve been away. In the past we’ve had a mix of babysitters, au pairs and school aftercare to provide the backup. While I was away this past week, we relied on school, friends and neighbors to cover the time my husband was out of the house. It was good, but tiring for the kids to go from home to home. They are ready for downtime.

5:45 p.m. Dinner! The kids are not so chatty today. Makes it feel all the more important to be here with them, to capture and enjoy the flow of conversations when they do occur. I’m glad for our family flexibility in that.

6:15 p.m. Time to clean up the kitchen. The kids often help but today they are back to homework. The feminist in me used to struggle with housework. The realist in me says, hey, it gets done when it gets done. The householder in me says, get it done. I like to think of myself as a householder when it comes to these matters, and I am reminded of Nobel Laureate Rabindranath Tagore’s idea of The Householder. It’s complex and Bengali, and being somewhat complex and partly Bengali myself, I can relate. I’ll have to look up the reference. Was it in a poem? A short story? I muse while I clean.

6:35 p.m. My husband is running late! A last-minute issue needs attention at the office in the city.

9:27 p.m. Kids finally in bed with lights out and door closed. Almost an hour later than bedtime; youngest was inconsolable over missing Dad who is finishing up at the office. They have a close bond, my three. My husband should be home in an hour, his work almost complete.

Why am I sharing these little details? Because when I was thinking of going into architecture school, and when I was in architecture school, and even after architecture school, people rarely talked about how the stuff of everyday life gets done. I want to share with others who are on the various parts of the trajectory, that it does get done, bit by bit, and not all at once. It gets done because we want it to, and because we want others to share in it as well. Not just for the sake of doing it, or for its completion, but for enjoying it, too. It’s a life by design, and it is a flexible one at that.

Maia Kumari Gilman, Registered Architect, LEED-AP BD+C

www.maiakumarigilman.com

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An Archimom's Everyday Moments of Truth: Kathy Russell

Maybe it’s pure chance that I’m not in the missing 32%, because there have been times that I would have gladly walked away from architecture. I have a bit of a love-hate relationship with my field. The region I live in is still recovering from the recession, so the stress of the slow periods is still present. In 2011, after having returned the previous year from maternity leave with my second child, I was one of many to be laid off from a mid-size firm. The thought of being a stay-at-home mom was more than appealing, but my husband was starting a new career and we had two young children to support. I considered changing careers, but I’d been practicing architecture for 18 years and it is all I really knew how to do. It’s how I think. It’s how my brain is wired. Every time I go in a new building, I wonder what is in all the layers of materials, what do the people inside do, what was the history of the building and I think about other solutions. You can’t just turn off that portion of your brain, so I keep giving architecture a chance.

During my first 18 years, I’d been in firms that 45-50 hours a week was average.  40 hours was practically considered part-time. I’ve worked in firms that required a fair amount of overnight travel. My first night away from my 10-month old son was supposed to be one night while I was in Nashville meeting with a client, but ended up being two nights as we got stuck in Minneapolis in a snowstorm. I didn’t sleep a wink because I was sure he was traumatized, but of course it was the first night he slept entirely through the night. My first few years of being a mother and an architect were difficult to juggle and full of self-inflicted guilt.

Currently, I am very lucky to be in a firm that values their employee’s lives and families. Overtime is not encouraged except when absolutely unavoidable, which is so refreshing given that I pride myself in being efficient and accurate. It’s also refreshing to work with women and men that actually spend time with their families and kids. As our city is family-oriented, our firm knows the value of soccer-game-sidelines network marketing.

As far as the future, there is too much fluctuation happening in architecture to know if it will remain permanent in my life. However, nothing is permanent and you sometimes just have to wing it.

Secret sauce that I rely on to juggle all that I do every day:

• Maintain my sense of humor. Humor keeps things in proportion and puts people at ease.
• Keep breathing.  I use the old yoga technique to keep grounded.
• Lists are my friend.  Post-it, yellow tablets, on my phone, written on my hand.
• Ask for help. It takes a village…
• Pace myself.  Work and raising kids is like a marathon. It takes time and planning.

My everyday moments of truths that I’ve discovered:

1.     Quality daycare has been good for my kids. You will hear a lot of people saying how bad it is to not spend every moment of your day with your kids. I am amazed how well my son has done in adjusting to elementary school having learned social skills and had an early education. The daycare teachers were much better teachers for his developing brain than I could’ve been. I’m not a professional teacher and I’m not afraid to admit it.

2.     Accepted saying No in my personal life. If you’re working outside the home, full-time, with younger kids, you probably won’t be able to do PTO, after-school activities, church, community groups or maybe even AIA. I love volunteering and being involved, but it can’t be at the expense of my family or work. I’ve worried my kids are missing out on the cool week day activities, but I know they are getting compensation from quality child care that has good programs and the evenings and weekends to spend with their parents.

3.     Finding a support network. As there have been so few other working mothers at the firms I’ve worked, I’ve found support in women’s business organizations outside of architecture. Currently, I attend monthly lunches and wine tastings with a loosely organized network of professional working moms consisting of attorneys, CPAs, bankers, architects and engineers. Sharing survival tips and their comradery has been invaluable.

4.     Learned to ask lots of questions. Architects manage the big picture, so we’re not supposed to know every miniscule detail. Our consultant’s jobs are to convey their expertise, so make them earn their fee and ask them lots of questions. Bosses can get busy and forget you don’t know everything you need to know – I make sure to keep asking questions until I have the information to complete the job. It helps to just talk it through with them.

5.     Most freak-outs are overreaction. This applies to the children and to the adults. Get to the truth of what is causing the freak-out before deciding if it is freak-out worthy.  This comes in especially handy during construction and at bedtime.

6.     There is always a solution. If a situation is freak-out worthy, I remind myself there is almost always a sensible solution.  As architects, we are problem-solvers and consulting other problem-solvers helps find a collaborative solution.

7.     Sit at the table. This is the best lesson from the Lean In by Sherry Sandberg. Own your authority, take advantage of opportunities as they arise, speak your mind, set aside unnecessary humility and accept credit for your work.  I believed it before reading it, was taught it by my own mom, but it was really nice to have it reinforced by Sandberg.

8.     Teach as I go along. As I’m working with interns or doing chores with my kids, I try to mentor and teach. The day is full of learning opportunities that I try not to miss.

9.     Embrace change. Architecture has changed so much during the recession. As baby boomers approaching retirement, we’re headed to more change. Then there is always the unpredictable change. Our families change and kids change daily. Adapting and flexibility is required.

10.  Embrace the moments. You may remember the roller coaster scene in the Mary Steenburgen and Steve Martin movie, Parenthood. Life gets crazy and stressful but the moments are fleeting. I look back at the photos from the summer I was laid off in 2011. My kids were so small and beautiful. Those moments were so stressful and unappreciated. And now they’re gone.  It doesn’t matter what is happening at a particular moment, good or bad, because each moment is a gift.

Kathy Russell     

Kathy’s a project architect at ALSC Architects in Spokane, WA 

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An Archimom's Everyday Moments of Truth: Kristen Padavic

My Archiparent Journey

The Archimom stories I have been reading on the Equity by Design site and other social media sites regarding women in architecture over the past few months have been inspiring and remind me of the trials and successes I have experienced on my journey. I don't know how I feel about being an #Archimom if my husband doesn't require the title #Archidad, so for now, I'll just call myself an #Archiparent or perhaps more fitting, general life ninja.

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I am a 38-year-old mother of identical twin daughters and an architect. In the same year that the economy bottomed out in a city that had already over built the exact building type my husband and I  were designing, I was blessed with the surprise of twins who were born ten weeks premature. The first several years of juggling work and parenting were a nightmare.  The laundry list of things that had happened to us was long and daunting. Besides the pay-cuts and our tiny 800 square foot home losing half of its value, our children had multiple health issues requiring therapy and lots of hospital visits. I have vivid memories of trudging through the snow with soaked pant legs after walking a mile to my office in Chicago, starting another twelve-hour day away from my family only to get a call that my child was having an asthma attack and needed to get to the ER. And I won't even touch on how my employer felt about my "situation."

Simply put, our life was not sustainable or enjoyable.  I was a very angry and tired person who no longer wanted to be an architect. Having always been a vivacious, happy woman, very direct and called a "tough cookie" by many, the male dominated aspects of the profession had never bothered me. My first employer was a trusted mentor, advocate and friend, who showed me how compassionate and human a boss could be. He shared with me the entire world of architecture that is never taught at school and gave me opportunities most young architects never see. I had once adored my career. However, having children with health issues and finding little compassion in my new employer, my value system had been completely turned on its head. Without really understanding what I was doing, I quit my job and we decided that we were throwing all of our negative energy away. We deliberately reframed our lives and sent out that positive energy to the universe. No more blaming the world for making this all so hard, and we called ourselves to action. Let the mortgage and the hospital bills go, we pronounced! We had no plan but we had each other.

Some say it was divine intervention or just old-fashioned luck; my husband’s friend saw my "Screw the World!" post on Facebook and gave us a call. He explained that his little home building company down in Texas was looking to bring a design team in-house, and asked if we would be willing to visit Austin and take a look. We felt the universe radiating positive energy towards us, towards our decision to let it all go, and moved to Texas two months later, joining the PSW team as partners.  Our company has grown from just a handful of us in a little run down house to over fifty of us building well-designed, sustainable, urban infill homes all over Texas.  And most importantly for our family, my husband and I have been able to craft a very sustainable set of careers and family life. Our company philosophy is founded on this principle as well, so we are trying to help our employees do the same. We have hired six architects and designers, of which over half are women and several are parents. Our families always take priority and that is non-negotiable.

This journey has provided so many lessons, none the least has been gratitude. Gratitude is the gift that keeps me loving what I do, even when I put in late nights. We both work hard, but have a joint purpose and immense gratitude in this opportunity. The list I have going in my mind is no longer about what is happening TO ME but what I am making happen and what I am ok with letting go. If I were to catalogue the ways in which I am able to successfully work and parent, here's a stab at a top five:

1. Having a life partner who takes on exactly half of the load that life throws at you. My husband and I have different styles and preferences, but we both do laundry and pick-up the girls. We go to the girls' pulmonologist together and trade off gymnastics. We have a system of tasks and we over-communicate about it.

2. Pouting is not allowed. One of the most important lessons we learned from our parenting coach to help us with our very behaviorally intense kids is to accept a challenge, deal with it and move on. Life can be very hard at times, especially when balancing work and kids, but negative energy sucks the life out of you.

3. You can always change your situation. Reframe it, scramble it up, and move to Alaska if you want. You won't die if walk away from a house, even. Own your situation - you get one chance at this!

4. Exercise often and take stock in you. Date nights are mandatory.

5. If you are an employer, give your employees the ability to have the life you would want to have. Treat them like adults. Not everyone will get to be an employer someday, so it comes with an immense amount of responsibility to help them shape lives that are meaningful and manageable.

KRISTEN PADAVIC, AIA, LEED AP 
architect, lead project designer  

@kpadavic

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A Husband/Archimom's Everyday Moments of Truth: Jared Banks, AIA →

As with so many wonderful initiatives to improve the lives of architects, The Missing 32% came out of AIA San Francisco. If you aren’t familiar with their research, goals, etc., here’s their mission statement:

The Missing 32% Project is a call to action for both women and men to help realize the goal of equitable practice to advance architecture, sustain the profession and communicate the value of design to society. Our mission is to understand the pinch points and promote the strategic execution of best practices in the recruitment, retention, and promotion of our profession’s best talent at every level of architectural practice.

This week on their blog they launched a series featuring #Archimom stories: the adventures of architecting and parenting. Good friend and Shoegnome guest blogger, Alicia Liebel Berg has already shared her story of impending archimomhood, along with a growing list of others. From the moment I saw the first tweet about this, I knew I had to share my experiences. Because while I have never explicitly stated this, behind everything I do with Shoegnome is the bizarrely 21st Century truth that I am a husband to an incredible and successful woman, a mom to two wacky and precocious daughters, and also an architect.

(For full story, click through to Shoegnome Blog)

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An Archimom's Everyday Moments of Truth: Meghana Joshi

A Fine Imbalance

From working in someone's home office to working at the top architecture firms of the country, I have done it all, while being an ArchiMom. Fourteen years ago, when I went back to work leaving my seven week old daughter under my mother's care, there were worries, there were doubts, and then there was a huge learning curve of adjusting to the work culture in a new country. With the help of flexible schedules, I started work early in the mornings, and my husband left home after taking care of our daughter's morning needs. At the stroke of four, the only thing on my mind was that beautiful smile that lit up my daughter's face when she spotted me.

Fast-forward fourteen years; the smile is still the same when she spots my car in the curbside pickup. I have two girls; eight and fourteen, and both go to different schools. One of them is in a public school close to home, but the other one goes to a STEM magnet school twenty miles away. Both of them have seen me go from working to an elite corporation to being temporarily unemployed to starting my own consulting firm. I lean in only because they, along with ArchiDad help me lean in. They know when to get into the car quietly while I finish my call, and they know when to borrow the Staedlers, the Sharpies and the Prismacolor and never bother about returning them.

My everyday moments of truth:

• Since I am a consultant, I have the luxury of flexible hours. But since I am a consultant, I am also the solely responsible for the deadlines. Depending on the amount of work to be done, and the school/ extracurricular schedule, I start working early, or stay up late night. If I am working on a set of construction documents, I start early in the morning and continue throughout the day, but if it's design, I start in the evening and reliving the glory days of architecture school, staying up late at night. Some weekends end up being working weekends if the fine balance of the scheduled items is disturbed. But, before I burn out, I take a break.
• My children have seen me paint a masonry block for a color board while I helped my husband get through the morning rush of making breakfast and lunch boxes. They tell me which gray goes better while buttering their toasts. The older daughter helps me type up responses to the RFIs, and sets up excel sheets for unit-mix calculations when I do storage projects. The younger one has spent time verifying the parking numbers from as-built drawings and double-checking my calculations. They are very involved in my life, not just limiting themselves to wearing my hard hat and pretending to be mommy.
• Not every day will be a well-planned and well-executed success story. There are days when I come home stressed from work, after spending considerable amount of time in the traffic, and all that greets me is a sink full of dirty dishes. Some days, my children pick up their clothes directly from the dryer because not all weekends have enough time to get organized for the week ahead. I like to prepare double batches of meals and freeze them, and I use my slow cooker a lot, but still there are days when Chipotle seems to be the only quick and easy option. On days like those, I go with the flow. I take care of what's on top of the priority list, and what bothers me the most, and let the rest go.
• Always keep some snacks and a hardhat, and construction boots in your car. I learned this valuable lesson the hard way. One day after working on a set of drawings overnight, I took them to office hoping to drop them off and come home for a quick nap before I picked up the children. But, one thing led to another, and I ended up driving straight to pickup. I realized that I didn't have my purse when I pulled over in the parking lot of a restaurant. Hungry, tired and frustrated, I learned a valuable lesson. I carry enough water and snacks to outlast a famine in my car.
• I try to do a little something everyday that's not related to my projects, my business, my children, my marriage, or my IDP and ARE exams. I like to read, write, cook, sketch, workout, or just catch up with an episode of “How I met your mother” with a glass of wine. You need more "you time" than you imagine. Some time alone, everyday if possible, without multitasking. A stack of magazines and fifteen minutes in the bathroom were my sanity savers when the children were young, and I had to work from home during their vacation days. I blog also, documenting life as is, mostly my worries, and frustrations.  
• One day I want to start attending AIA events, and network with other architects. But life where it is now rarely allows for any such commitment in the real world. I try to catch up with architecture related articles, and blogs, and read architecture magazines. I am using social media to connect to others in the industry. One day I want to be more involved with the causes I attach myself to, volunteer my time and efforts to.
• ArchiDad, who is actually a TechiDad is my rock. When I moved to California to be his wife, I was on a Dependent Visa. During the "Y2K" days, it was easy for anyone with any educational background to take a quick course in coding and get employed in technology sector. I don't tell him this, but ArchiDad is the reason why I stayed ArchiMom. When he helps me with parenting responsibilities, it's mostly because they are our children, and this is our home and our household. But he is truly my rock when he encouraged me to volunteer and learn until I got my citizenship to get legal employment, or get a distance learning degree during my pregnancy, and promptly adds me to his health insurance plan when I am unemployed.

Meghana Joshi @meghanaira

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