What I’m Thinking About
My first Architecture Studio class started in my first year of college and focused on the lost art of hand drafting. We had to learn the old ways to appreciate the new ways. I didn’t need a class to tell me that hitting the undo button was easier than getting a fresh sheet of mylar to start inking your plans over again. Do doctors practice bloodletting with leeches to balance the body’s humors in medical school? I would have been a terrible draftsman back in the day.
The studio was hosted in an old, abandoned, converted dormitory. It was cold; students all wore hats and coats while they drafted. I remember one particular evening when a rat appeared, rolling an empty soda can down the hall. Builds character, they say.
We were required to keep a sketchbook for the semester, sketching various buildings around campus and elsewhere. I quickly learned that drawing buildings was harder than drawing Garfield the Cat or a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle. Shade and shadow, straight lines, composition, what the hell? A master sketcher, I was not.
One of our first studio projects was writing block letters, another relic, and we were graded on it. I did my best, what I thought was a good job, only to get a poor grade from the Teaching Assistant. I told myself that this was stupid. I said to myself that this was pointless. I had to get to the computers, and I’ll be fine.
I wish I could remember what our final studio project was that semester. Whatever I did, it was obviously forgettable.
I made a friend, a studio buddy. A cute girl who immigrated to the US as a child. She was mature beyond her years. She was a maverick, calling out injustices with a fire I admired. Worldly, where I was green; confident, where I was naive. She was my unwitting mentor, showing me that confidence wasn’t just a stroke of luck but a skill honed in the fires of experience and reflection. She once confronted a guy complaining that the Statics and Dynamics professor did not speak English well. She was ages ahead of me, a social justice warrior before I ever knew there was a war to be fought. She stood up for what was right, whereas I avoided confrontation. I felt confident with her around, perhaps too much so. We helped each other adjust to living on our own. We’d meet for dinner in the dining hall and play frisbee when the weather was nice. She moved back home at the end of the first year and transferred to a school closer to her mother and boyfriend. I guess I didn’t do as good of a job helping her adjust as she did for me. I tell you about her because she plays a part in the final act of this story.
The next studio class focused on digital workflows. Here, the seeds were sowed, my first brush with design technology. It was here that I learned AutoCAD, FormZ, and Photoshop. I loved messing around in Photoshop; I felt like a God. Cutting people out and putting them in other places, filters for moody art pieces, I felt like I could do anything. I could fool myself into thinking I was good and leaned hard on that thought moving forward.
Our Studio teacher for this semester was an adjunct, a new-age hippie-like professor. I found her quite likable. Our final project was to design a pavilion (maybe a bus stop?) on a corner adjacent to the News-Gazette, the local newspaper. I created some terrarium-like structure, but what really ended up there was a golden statue of a paperboy. Neither of those facts is essential to the story.
Before we went home for Thanksgiving (or spring?) break, the professor assigned us homework to build a “trash model” of our design. She purposefully left it that vague to inspire our creativity. And inspiration did come! Did it ever! I had been procrastinating and struggling to come up with ideas until I was helping out with dinner one night, peeling potatoes. That’s right, I was inspired by a tuber. I carved my model out of a potato. The professor absolutely gushed over it, beaming at me. Of course, I couldn’t let the potato sit for that long, but I took pictures of it for the final presentation. And so begins my notorious model-building career, a subject for another month.
Sadly, the real photos seem to be lost to the sands of time.
At the end of the semester, we were to create architectural presentation boards and present them to the class and a guest reviewer. I had never seen an architectural presentation board to this point. I could have looked one up. I could have asked or peeked at someone else’s. I didn’t. I freestyled. Using my presumed God-like Photoshop power, I blew up an image of a jungle canopy and used it as my background. I next photoshopped in a long, winding, woody vine stretching the length of the board. Shooting off the vine were leaves, and I put my drawings and renderings on those leaves.
I had to sit through most of the other presentations before my turn. As I watched presentation after presentation, board after board, a sinking feeling started to grow. Mine didn’t look like any of these boards.
I began to freak out, saying as much to my studio buddy. She point-blank told me to stop, “This isn’t who you are. You’ve been so confident this whole time; you’re going to lose it now?” This hit me like a punch to the gut. I felt like I failed her or had been deceiving her somehow. Self-confidence was not something I thought I had.
I think about this moment very often. I use it as a reminder to be authentic and as motivation to over-prepare when facing the unknown to avoid embarrassing myself, another pattern you’ll notice across these posts.
How did the presentation go? I lucked out. The professor said it was very “unique.” The guest reviewer asked if I really built a model out of a potato and said there wasn’t enough for him to comment on. I was happy with this outcome and now knew how to do architectural design boards. Lesson learned.
What I’m Working On
Training
The Pandemic shutdown was a time for self-reflection and reassessing values. Many found their authentic selves, or something close to it, and discovered what was important to them. The practical impacts of this mass realization led to the Great Resignation…or migration? The Great Shuffling? Whatever you want to call it. Many people who had entered the workforce the same time I did, who took a job wherever they could get one, moved back home, or to a job or profession they really wanted. And all the power to them! Much to my family’s chagrin, I did not have this mindset. I was too busy dodging germs for my young kids and my immunocompromised body and trying to work and parent a 4-month-old and 3-year-old, but that’s a topic for a future post.
My office was no different; we experienced turnover, too, both coming in and going out. We inherited a new crop of people to train in the ways of BIM. Some were brand new to the platform. Some took a night class one semester in college. Some had experience but bad habits to correct.
This isn’t a unique circumstance to be in. Most offices experienced the same during this period. Throughout history, companies have gone through cycles of growth and development where the focus shifts from innovation and productivity to QA/QC and training.
I’ve always divided my work evenly across different aspects of Design Technology: training, of course, BIM Management, Reality Capture, Data Science, Clash Coordination, Software/license management, and R&D. Since the Pandemic started, my time has been 90–95% training and building training resources.
I’ve had a tough time accepting this. I did not create this role to be a Revit Trainer. I didn’t want to be teaching remedial Revit. Anyone can do that. I was concerned that the skills that only I have will atrophy. I could not shake the feeling that I was meant for so much more and was being held back.
But training was the office’s greatest need. Mistakes were happening regularly, and all the efficiency gains I worked so hard to build were lost. I’ve seen things that even Revit Rookies would cringe at.
I felt responsible. I desperately wanted to get back to a place where I didn’t have to worry about the product leaving our office and could push the firm forward technologically. I felt like I was spinning my wheels, like Sisyphus rolling the boulder uphill.
New people meant new personalities to learn. People who don’t want to be seen seeking help, people who think they have something to prove, people who only felt comfortable asking me questions, people too intimidated to ask me a question, people who don’t think before asking questions, people who think they know what they’re doing but don’t, people who bristle at suggestions for improvement, and finally, those who ask no questions at all.
Some of this latter group have no interest in further learning or improvement. They’re happy with their position or feel the skill is beneath them. I understand wanting to work with something that is a known entity. That the unknown is scary, and most like to feel smooth, comfortable, and confident in what they’re doing, something I’ve come to call a velvet rut. As someone obsessed with self-improvement and progress, I have a hard time sympathizing with people who are done learning. Why wouldn’t you want to get better at the tools you use? A musician is only as good as how well they use the instrument. Could you be a great surgeon while being clumsy with a scalpel? A painter and his brush? A carpenter’s hammer? Design Software is a tool like any other; you must learn how to use it well.
Old/Existing Methods
Previous to the onset of the pandemic, my training methods included the BIM Team, GTECH, Model Reviews, a Revit Users Guide, articles on the company intranet, on-demand seminars, and the help desk.
BIM Team
I had a team of Revit specialists who were volunteers interested in improving things, motivated by progress alone. This team was distributed throughout the office on project teams, spreading the BIM gospel and acting as my eyes and ears around the office. What was working? What was not? Where are our most significant holes in knowledge? They also served as my first line of defense, a shield to repel would-be interrupters with easy questions. The only questions that would reach me were the ones my teammates didn’t know the answer to, which became a learning experience for everyone.
It wasn’t perfect, but it worked well enough. A volunteer army is only as good as the amount of time they have to volunteer. Many of my original members were aging into Project Management roles which sucked up their available time. The system may have eventually failed without the pandemic and subsequent staff changes, but we’ll never know.
GTECH
My office takes pride in its culture of learning. We have the typical lunch and learns, sure. Still, we also have venues for discussing design theory, honing soft skills, reviewing lessons learned, and for technical skills, the realm I splash around in.
3 out of 4 Friday mornings per month were mine, one hour to discuss some aspect of design technology and spread knowledge across the office. We called it GTECH, and I volun-told staff members when their turn would arise and what their topics should be.
Eventually, GTECH broke into 3 venues: GTECH, MMA, and B2B.
GTECH remained and covered topics at a high level: What is laser scanning? Why do you need a model manager? Why is Clash Detection during design important?
The second venue I called MMA, but it doesn’t stand for Mixed Martial Arts. When I decided to form a group of active Model Managers who come together to discuss high-skill topics, the Avengers from Marvel Comics came to mind. “Model Managers Assemble!” So that’s what I used.
I called the final venue “Back to Basics.” The goal of this venue was to bring new people up to speed and fill any gaps in experienced users’ knowledge.
These sessions were recorded and posted to the office intranet to collect digital dust. An hour-long video is hard to commit to without free food.
Model Reviews
I developed a Model Review workflow, where a BIM Team member touches a project 3 times over its life cycle: 50% DD to review modeling techniques, 50% CDs to review documentation methods, and one at the end as a postmortem.
The BIM Team put together a long checklist of things to look for. At the end, each project team received a scorecard with issues presented in 3 ways: Must change now, things you should consider changing, and finally, think about this for next time.
This was my most effective training method, speaking directly to the staff on a model they are very familiar with instead of some vague, universal examples.
The main challenge with this program was the amount of time it took. I built many Dynamo Scripts to automate many of these checks, but it was still time-consuming. I plan to one day build these Dynamo Checks into my Revit add-in so that staff members can do their own Model Audits when ready.
Revit Users Guide
When I arrived 12 years ago, I inherited the office Revit Users Guide. It was an intentionally small document meant to cover only the basics: starting a new project file and some best practices. As I started adding more and more tools to the Revit Template, it became clear that the document needed to grow to explain how to use the new tools. As a large MS Word Document, it became too cumbersome to use and reference, so I turned it into a Wiki and put it on SharePoint for anyone to search and contribute to.
Intranet Articles
I regularly write articles or link to curated articles from my peers online to share tips and tricks, best practices, and potential pitfalls with the office. For every problem I solve in person, I write an article and publish it for all to learn from the solution. But you can imagine how big my backlog has become.
On-demand Seminars
I used these for project teams ready to start a significant task: existing conditions documentation with point clouds, beginning detailing the project, clash coordination, etc.
Help Desk
Then, there’s one-on-one training as I help solve staff’s individual problems.
I endeavor to turn each consultation into a learning experience. People are often too stressed about a deadline to receive it, so you must approach it differently. Being good at this job means understanding people, learning to adapt to multiple personalities, reading the room, and gauging the temperature and mood. Sometimes, people want the answer or me to do it for them because they’re on a deadline and are too stressed out to care. “Just make it do what I want!” Even then, I find ways to get training in there. I like to tell the people in this emotional state how much time I’ve saved them. When I empathize, get frustrated with them, and show that I’m on their side, they are much more receptive to learning, and you leave the hero.
This part of the job can be very fulfilling if you let it be. It’s good for the ego. If you can get a staff member out of a jam, not only are you the hero of the day, but they’ll trust you more, listen to you more, and become an ally. I’ve implemented many large ideas by gaining the staff’s trust and waging a grassroots campaign. It’s not disingenuous if the goal is efficiency because everyone benefits.
As robust as this all sounds, it wasn’t enough and wouldn’t be enough even today. I had to devise new or improved methods to cram knowledge in heads.
Look out for Training Part #2 next month!
What I’m Reading
How to Win Friends and Influence People
It took me half the book to realize that I was learning from the wrong Carnegie. It was definitely not written by the famous, wealthy American industrialist. The book was handy to my everyday experience anyway. Although the book is old (first published in 1936), most of the principles are still relevant today.
The themes in this book about interpersonal skills and influence are tied to my experiences with training and managing different personalities. The principles in this book have recently helped inform my approach to training, especially in understanding and navigating the varied dynamics and resistance I encounter. Many of the book’s principles have improved my interactions and will be applicable in future training strategies. Check out Training Part #2 next month to see how.
What I’m Listening To
The Black Keys
Like much of me, my taste in music has evolved over time. I grew up on classic and alternative rock, grunge, and blues rock. Still, I also found myself venturing into heavy metal, emo, ska, and punk. Later on, I was exclusively indie. Yes, I was one of those who would pompously say, “I knew that band before they made it big.” Buy me a drink at a bar, and I’ll tell you my Fall Out Boy story.
My music tastes today are wide-ranging, but I keep returning to indie rock blends with modern sounds, a departure from traditional guitar-bass-drums rock.
When I first heard the Black Keys, they felt equally familiar and new. They somehow successfully fused classic blues rock with modern alternative/indie in a way that felt refreshing. This blending of new and old is something I can identify with, something I work with daily.
What I’m Playing
Just Cause 3
Amid my training frustrations, I started playing ‘Just Cause 3,’ an action-adventure game about creating chaos to take down a dictator in a fictional world. They give you access to destructive weapons and vehicles, and you go around blowing stuff up.
The wanton destruction is a satisfying way to release steam after a frustrating day. You’re a one-person army using a flying/gliding suit to navigate an island nation and take down a cruel dictator. One of the reasons I love video games is that I can live a hundred lives. I could be an ancient Egyptian assassin one night, a horror novel author in a small town another night, and a badass one-person army the next. I feel like this game fed into a base male instinct; who wouldn’t want to be the dashing protagonist, Rico Ramirez? Who doesn’t fantasize about being the hero?
Aren’t I the hero, though? Isn’t my “Just Cause” to disrupt the status quo? Viva la design technology revolución!
What My Kids Are Doing
My oldest child, Primera, has never been able to play independently. Even as a baby, she would require an adult to explore, play, and learn. She would be content to sit in our lap and read books for an hour or more. I’d sit in front of the bookshelf with her in my lap, taking out book after book, but she never opened a book for herself. This wasn’t easy because someone always had to be with her, engaging with her somehow. Only while sleeping could we do anything for ourselves. We tried everything we could find to encourage independent play. It’s not that she wasn’t creative or didn’t have an imagination; both were working at full tilt. She just wouldn’t play by herself. During the pandemic, while home with the kids, we would force her to have quiet time in her room while Segunda napped, and my wife and I desperately tried to work. She put up such a fight. She was basically learning how to play independently for the first time in her life.
Now, Segunda was an eye-opener in several ways, but one of the most apparent differences from her sister was her ability to play independently. She was perfectly content pulling out a toy and entertaining herself for long periods. We didn’t even know this was possible for young children; it felt so impossible. Recently, though, this is changing. Segunda no longer wants to play alone. Imaginative play is all she wants to do lately, with little figurines, dolls, or Paw Patrol characters. She acts out little scenarios and is very creative about it.
I’m all about imaginative play. I’m happy to make-believe with her, coming up with new stories to act out and respond to, but that’s not what she wants. She tells me what to say, do, and where to go. I get corrected or shut down if I try to improvise or ad-lib. If her character was flying, and I tried to fly with her, she’d say something like, “Pretend you can’t fly.”
If I’m up to the challenge, I’ll push back and try to enjoy it. If I can make her laugh, I’m usually doing well, but often she’s not having any of it and will storm off upset. She’s made me stop enjoying imaginative play, and sadly, playing with her has become a chore. My wife is not much help; she very much dislikes imaginative play.
Segunda has this habit of slinking into your lap without you realizing it. It’s pretty funny and cute. She’s definitely a cuddler. Lately, she’ll climb into our laps like usual but slyly slip a character toy into my hand and start telling me who I am. How do I say no to this? I usually don’t. I know how meaningful these interactions are and want to be present, whether chore or not.
As I discussed training and mentoring in my work environment, nurturing self-reliance and creativity in children through imaginative play parallels my professional experiences. It emphasizes the importance of developing independent thinking and problem-solving skills from a young age, analogous to encouraging new employees to find solutions and learn independently. This also shows how play is not only a developmental tool for children but also a constructive approach to learning and engagement that can be applied to adults in a professional setting. It reinforces that foundational skills learned through play and self-directed discovery are valuable throughout life. My Training Part #2 post will get into more detail on this topic.
Conclusion
As we’ve traveled from the drafting table to the digital screen, every line, whether inked or clicked, draws a deeper appreciation for architecture’s essence. The cold drafts of the old dorm studio and that potato-turned-pavilion weren’t just quirks of education; they were the raw edges where we learned patience and perspective.
As we ride the wave of the Great Shuffling, training morphs into a blend of legacy and innovation. We’re learning that growth isn’t just about mastering tools — it’s about nurturing a mindset that thrives on curiosity and adaptability.
Our craft remains timeless, even as the tools in our hands evolve. It’s not just about the structures we design; it’s about the journey of creation, the interplay of shadow and light, line and form. Whether through a pencil tip’s precision or a software command’s power, the art of architecture endures in the process and the people who bring it to life.