Message from the AIAO President-Elect

Kaley Fought, AIA
AIAO President-Elect

Facilities Update - Moda Center Suite

As many of you know, we are reaching the end of our lease at the CFA in Portland this year. In conjunction with the board, our Facilities Task Force reviewed and discussed the various options for staying in place or moving to a new location. Working remotely has allowed all of us to rethink the way we work, communicate, and socialize, and this mindset adjusted the lens through which we were reviewing spaces up for consideration. With this in mind, we are very excited to be taking up interim residence at a suite in the Rose Quarter.

Following a rather chaotic, and yet strangely isolated year of events, AIAO has decided to shake things up and leverage the current uncertainty as an opportunity to extend our reach. During the last 12 years at the Center for Architecture in the Pearl District, we have hosted numerous events, members, galleries and notable installations to share achievements in architecture and opportunities for education and connection with our peers and the public. The importance, and influence, of architecture and the spaces we choose to share in experience is always at the forefront of my mind, and I think it’s important for our physical location to be a place that facilitates our goals as an organization. The value in having a space to land for CEU opportunities, social gatherings, and architecturally relevant displays is, I believe, a critical component to a successful AIAO. We will have reservable access to the many well-appointed venues at the Rose Quarter, ranging from conference rooms to large event gathering spaces.

Each space is effectively ready to go with A/V, furniture, and catering, and allows easy access for members and staff via secured free parking and public transportation.

There are numerous factors and points of discussion that we have considered during the last year, and ultimately came to the conclusion that our current location and lease arrangement is no longer our best option. Rather than jumping immediately into a new lease and/or location, we have decided to spend the next few years exploring options, evaluating our needs as an organization, and gathering insight into how we will function moving forward. Financially, this move creates independence as we expect to recoup the cost of the lease through ticket sales. With our 3-year lease at the Rose Quarter, we will not have the financial burden of finding and building out a new space, while improving our ability to host in-person and broadcasted events. The ticket sales for the upcoming concert season are projected to be a net gain in our revenue over the next three years, placing us firmly on solid financial footing to explore a new space, or possibly several spaces around the state.

We have had ongoing conversations around how we can better position ourselves in the broader community so that we not only have a positive influence on the built environment, but also become a viable resource for community leaders and allied organizations. This location gives us an opportunity to reach new sponsors, broaden our public awareness through strategic marketing and events, and have an elevated platform to extend our reach. I’m excited for the unique approach this takes, and thrilled that Heather has come out of the gate with a new perspective on how we serve our members. It should be an engaging few years, and I’m looking forward to the shift!

Learn more about the Facilities Big Picture in Heather’s article for the July 22 T@3

Message from the Co-Chair of the Committee on Equity, Diversity and Inclusion

Octavio Gutiérrez
Co-chair, AIA Oregon Committee on Equity, Diversity and Inclusion

Reflecting on Mentorship

A few weeks ago, AIA Oregon’s Committee on Equity, Diversity and Inclusion (CoEDI), the Architecture Foundation of Oregon (AFO) and NOMA PDX (Portland’s chapter of the National Organization of Minority Architects) co-hosted a Community Connection Slam with the simple goal of bringing together three key groups in the spirit of supporting one another: organizations that provide design, engineering, and construction related programs to youth; service organizations that help students navigate these available programs; and members of the design community hoping to support both the programs and the program navigators. 

The Community Connection Slam was the first of what will be many (and long-overdue) inter-organizational conversations and collaboration around improving access to our profession, particularly for students from marginalized communities. The Slam left many of us inspired by all of the great work our collective design community is engaged in, and it left me with a deep sense of gratitude for the program providers and navigators I have encountered throughout my own personal career journey.  It also left me reflecting on all who have selflessly given their time to motivate, inspire, support, and mentor me along the way, and why I believe it’s imperative that we all pause to reflect on how we can pay this forward to the next generation(s) of architects.

I can’t pinpoint exactly when I started thinking about architecture as a career, but I suspect it was around 4th grade, and that a certain sitcom about a large blended family with an architect as “head of household” had something to do with it.  As the middle child in a family of seven siblings, I could somewhat relate to the big, happy family portrayed on TV.  However, peace in our home was contingent on brokering deals over limited space: our single story tract home always felt as though it was about to burst into chaos and warfare, and I saw design as a peacekeeping mission.  I thought about ways to arrange, and endlessly rearrange, spaces to maximize efficiency and create truces.   Short on resources, I would creatively reuse the blank side of any large paper bags I could find to draw up the next big peace plan.  

In junior high school, the idea of going to college was planted in my mind, and by the time I got to high school I was hopeful that a career in the architecture, engineering, or construction industry was in my future.  I didn’t have access to programs like the ACE Mentorship Program or Your Street Your Voice, and I can’t recall any of my peers at the time expressing interest in architecture, so I felt somewhat isolated in my interests.  As a first generation college student, I depended on my teachers and guidance counselors to help demystify the process of applying for college, financial aid, and scholarships; and I relied on them for a sense of security that this investment in time and limited resources was going to help me realize a still somewhat fuzzy career goal.   

By the spring of my senior year of high school, I started finding clarity in a possible career path.  Following the advice of my career counselor, I applied to a paid internship program that paired BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, and People of Color) college students interested in engineering or business administration with major corporations around the country.  I accepted an internship with the Los Angeles, California office of Turner Construction, and started working in the purchasing department the summer before my first semester of college.  Turner’s internship program connected me to some truly amazing mentors - all first generation college graduates whom I could see myself becoming one day. 

More impressively, my mentors and supervisors focused entirely on making sure that my internship would benefit me as an architecture student, going to such extraordinary lengths as driving me to visit various architect’s offices whose projects they were building (in LA traffic nonetheless!).  I returned to Turner every summer during my undergraduate architecture studies, rotating through the estimating department and field assignments, and Turner invited me back after graduation for a full-time position.  I left Turner for my graduate studies with a sense of self-confidence, a network of professionals, and an image of who I wanted to become. 

I share my lived experiences because I believe that architects have the power to inspire future generations of architects and uplift the communities we serve.Supporting the pipeline to the architecture profession has been a keystone of CoEDI’s mission since our committee’s founding.And we’re incredibly excited to be collaborating with the AFO and NOMA PDX to expand our reach and amplify our collective impact.If you are interested in learning more about supporting programs serving our youth, or joining our efforts, I invite you to reach out to me personally, join us at our monthly CoEDI meetings, or connect with us at a future AIA Oregon event.

Message from the AIA Oregon Executive Vice President

Heather Wilson
AIAO EVP/CEO

It’s not very easy to plot a path from A to Z. Contrary to what the linear nature of that phrase suggests, the path is so curly you can’t see straight. Anyone with a few years of adult life under their belt will tell you that the Heard it through the Grapevine lyrics are true: “people say believe half of what you see….and none of what you hear.” That doesn’t make for easy ways to the solutions of complex problems. And it doesn’t matter how you feel about that.

There are a lot of people who make a lot of money to help people figure out how to get from A to Z; one of my favorite “gurus” is currently Brene Brown; I also love listening to “Revisionist History” with Malcolm Gladwell; and in person, no one beats Patty Dobrowolski at Up Your Creative Genius. I rely on my personal coach, Tamara Williams Van Horn, and I call on family and friends as needed. You learn to stock your toolbox if you stay on that purpose-driven journey.

My grandmother was a hard-tack woman who stood nearly 6’2” tall. She had beautiful but severe features that I assumed came from giving birth to nine children, spending some time in an insane asylum, and being a black woman charged with feeding, clothing, and housing those nine children to reasonable independence. I learned that lesson about building a toolbox from her. She told me the most important tool to carry was gratitude. That it would be the source of my resilience.

I may have already said this: I remain encouraged by the stories of our history that remind me that those who came before me did more, with less, and were more grateful for the results.

This is how I come by the tactic of how to take a next step in anything difficult: Breathe – get grateful for your last glimpse of the world as you blink, and then get active as your eyes open again and you are gifted with another moment. It’s that complex and that simple. It’s a cycle and a lifestyle. It’s a way of being that invites waves of gratitude into each moment to prepare you for the next. It is maybe uncomfortable as a concept as first, but then very reassuring as a practice in the moment.

And make no mistake – we are in the middle of so many moments. We are working on so many complex issues. Diversity, Inclusion and Equity; Resilience in the built environment; the real issues of climate change and its imperatives. Reopening built space after pandemic. Homelessness.

Your tasks are not small.

But next steps are possible.

Take a deep breath.

Get Grateful.

Let’s begin our next moment.