Before pursuing my undergraduate architecture degree, I wondered: why do so many buildings look so alike? Almost every building I saw was an extruded rectangle. But as a student, I was exposed to a different realm of what architecture is and what it could be. Each building that I designed in school felt like I was orchestrating a symphony. I analyzed my site, client, and community and considered economical, cultural, and environmental factors that may pose risks or opportunities to create what I thought was the best composition. I could be creative about the design possibilities that exist. But as I was working on these projects, I looked back outside at the rectangular skyline and began to wonder again, why are buildings a boundless creative potential in academia while the world is filled with rectangles?

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My undergraduate academic career in architecture was fruitful, but the little time I spent in practice was not what I hoped it would be. It might be unfair to say this from a three month experience, but what I learned in school was so much different from what exists in the ‘real’ world. Everything about understanding my client, considering external factors, and researching new technological innovations were shut down by codes. These codes are important and should be followed, but why is it that when these codes are followed, the client’s and community’s needs feel overshadowed and creativity dissipates? Experiencing the profession made me feel like I was designing something for the sake of existence, not for the sake of meaningful existence. So, I pivoted. I don’t want to create another rectangular building in that skyline; I want to be a designer that breaks the bounds of creativity.