Our Moment is Brief. What are You Building?

Construction in my neighborhood is constant.

I drive down my block and a couple of houses have scaffolding up and a massive pile of dirt in the front yard. I go another quarter mile and an old IHOP is being bulldozed on one side of the street while a new McDonald's goes up on the other.

The coaching clients I work with, too, are in a constant state of construction. Mid-career renovations. Old, unhelpful beliefs being torn down. New gardens of creativity planted in the front yard.

Around us and within us, always there is construction, demolition, and reconstruction of some sort.

Which is why I immediately leaned in when one of my best friends from childhood, Dr. Brian Goldstein, gave a talk earlier this week at the Illinois Institute of Technology as part of the book launch for Max Bond: The Life and Work of the People's Architect.

Bond was one of the preeminent architects of the 20th century, and one whose work has too often been overlooked. He believed deeply that our external, built environments communicate our society's values - which means that one of the central ways we can create positive social change is by building in ways that express the values we most want as a people.

Below, I've listed four of the core values fundamental to his architecture.

As you read them, consider what they might mean for the things you are building.

For the content you are creating.

For the redesign you are doing within your organization. Perhaps even within yourself these days.

Four of Bond's Values

Democratic Design. In opposition to the idea that there is one expert, visionary, or "starchitect" who owns and dictates their genius design, Bond believed that architecture is like jazz: inherently and necessarily collaborative. It involves the voices of the people who live where a building is going up. It involves the voices of poets, planners, and multiple architects. It's messier and slower this way, but it's ultimately vitalizing, because the final building is genuinely of the people.

Where do the voices of your organization, at every level, find themselves meaningfully heard?

Space that Trusts the People who Use It. In opposition to the idea that a space should dictate to people how to use and navigate it, Bond sought to create spaces where those who lived and worked in them could arrange and rearrange things to best fit their ever-evolving needs. He trusted that the people he served knew best. After all, as Bond once humbly wrote, "In the life of a building, our moment is brief."

Where do you trust your people to know best?

Materials that Honor the Place and the People. In opposition to the idea that you should build with whatever is cheapest, most impressive, or in fashion, Bond favored materials local to the area. In particular, he liked choosing materials that people in the community were experts at using. For the King Center in Atlanta, for instance, he chose brick in part because the city had many skilled Black bricklayers, and the choice of brick meant they would be well-employed for the coming days.

How do you choose the materials of your craft - and who benefits from your choices?

Spaces that Hold the Story of the People. In opposition to the idea that our grandest public buildings should celebrate the powerful, prestigious, and singular figures, Bond honored the story of the people in such works as the Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture in Harlem and the Birmingham Civil Rights Institute. Even with the King Center in Atlanta, Bond purposely kept the scale human rather than monumental.

Who gets centered in your meetings? Your organization?

—

I took the Green Line home from the Illinois Institute of Technology after the presentation.

Halfway through the ride I took out my earbuds. I opened Max Bond: The Life and Work of the People's Architect, and I read. I nodded to people as they boarded. I thanked a person who held a gate for me at the station where I got off.

The Green Line

Nothing major.

It's just that Bond had reminded me that I, too, am an architect of the space around me. And I have a choice about the values worthy of building.

So the earbuds went.

And another new construction began in my neighborhood.