Promotion at Work

Architects are a funny breed. We are notoriously poor at managing our businesses. There are as many organizational forms as there are architectural firms. Many utilize titles such as associate, senior associate, associate principal. In some firms, those titles are essentially meaningless until the word "principal" comes into play. I used to work for such a firm. When you were licensed and showed some sort of loyalty to the firm, you were made an associate. In a firm of 250 people, all but the most junior people were either associate or above. It was a meaningless title.

My current firm has no such issues. Associate is only bestowed on those who are committed to the craft of architecture and to the firm as a whole. They are those who are on the track to bigger and better things with the firm and the principals recognize that. Associates are seen as the leaders of the firm and are expected to take a larger role in management of the firm. Each year, only a handful of people are promoted and it occurs in the fall following the principals retreat.

On Thursday, the two principals I work most closely with took me out to lunch. I have been promoted to associate after only one year the firm. It is quite an honor and I am humbled by the trust put in me. I knew this was the right firm for me from the start, so being recognized by the principals in this way, cements that this is the right firm for me. More importantly, I have only worked with three of the seven principals and they are the most junior principals at that. I have tried to get to know the other principals, mostly for political purposes, but apparently, they see my contributions anyway. The two did recommend that I seek out the founder and president of the firm and get to know him a little better. That's my task for the fall!

Its Been Awhile

Its been about 6 months since I posted. Somethings have happened recently that might hopefully help me post more often.

Over this past Labor Day, I took my now annual trip to Arkansas to ride motorcyles with my family. Here are some shots I took....

View of the Buffalo National River from the low water bridge

Ponca, Arkansas

Another view from the low water bridge of the Route 43 bridge

Ponca, Arkansas

Someone's private covered bridge

Ponca, Arkansas

The Newton County Library

Jasper, Arkansas

These images are were I grew up. I actually lived in Fayetteville, Arkansas, some 70-80 miles away, but I attended camps & vacationed in these areas. The Newton County Library is one of the first buildings I worked on the design of that I can actually trace through construction. The finished product is quite different from the drawings I remember, but it serves its purpose.

Our Boy Scout camp was Camp Orr on the Buffalo National River not far from Ponca. We would usually stop at Ponca on our way camp. My troop also frequently canoed the Buffalo in the spring. 20 years ago, the Rte. 43 bridge in the background was under construction. The only way through Ponca was across the low water bridge. In the late spring, it was a coin flip whether you could cross or not.

This past trip, the 2nd annual birthday present from my parents, was different from the first. My mom & I discussed our souls more than before. My uncle who lives in Kansas City & mets us for these rides, is, as mom says, a walking time bomb. I can't remember the exact details, but 10 years ago he had some seizures & a brain surgery that affected his personality. Up to then, he was a holy roller. He's more calm about that now & much better to be around. His doctors do NOT want him riding motorcycles because of the anti-seizure meds he's on. He will eventually drop dead one day, sooner than he should. These trips remind him of his younger days & better times.

For my mom & dad, they remind them of when my sister & I were little, dad on the Honda 175, mom on the Yamaha 125, sister on the Honda 85 & me at 5 years old on the Honda 50, tearing the trails around Russelville, Arkansas.

For me, they allow me to reconnect with family, friends & remind me of who I am. I remember in college one summer, I had a very serious, very physical relationship with a young woman who grew up in southern Arkansas & hated it. She could not wait to graduate from UofA & get the hell out of the state. I was attending college in Mississippi & could not wait to get back home. A turning point was reached on a trip to Eureka Springs, AR one Sunday afternoon. I took her to the top of the Crescent Hotel & pointed at the beautiful green mountains all around & proclaimed that this is who I am & this is where I intend to live. We parted, forever, when I returned to Mississippi in August. I was 22 years old. I graduated from college just short of my 24th birthday & have not lived in Arkansas since. That's going on 14 years. I often think about Jen when I'm home & what might have happened had I known then what I know now.

When I graduated, there were few jobs for intern architects in Fayetteville, Arkansas & all were gobbled up by graduates of the UofA. I chose to stay in Jackson, Mississippi, met my future wife, married & moved to Baltimore where we raise our 3 kids. I loved Jen then, but I love my wife much more now. I have no regrets & this is where I want to be, but I feel the pull to return each year, ride motorcycles through the Ozarks & hopefully one day, spend a summer there with my children, showing them where & how I grew up.