"Solutions?"

For anyone who did not receive the most recent issue of CRIT magazine:

“Solutions?” Let’s talk.

Brett Roeth

This editorial was first printed in issue 71 (Spring 2011) of Crit, the journal of the American Institute of Architecture Students (AIAS). It is reprinted here with permission and may not be reproduced without the express permission of AIAS.

“Think globally, act locally” is the sine qua non of the sustainability movement. These four words express the fundamental idea of a powerful system of ethics: individual actions have impacts beyond one’s immediate and obvious surroundings. While this motto guides many of our decisions about our built and natural environments, it seems not to have infiltrated our political, social, and cultural behaviors as pervasively. We watch civil uprisings in Tunisia, Egypt, and Libya with a certain mixture of awe, confusion, and distance, not fully understanding that our nation formed out of rather similar sentiments and actions 235 years ago. We denounce the oppressive regimes that leverage fear to control the populace – without realizing that a regime founded upon antipathy has risen in our very backyard.

I’m speaking here of Arizona, a state which students at three NAAB accredited schools of architecture call home. Within the last year, Arizona has enacted laws with the stated purpose of curbing illegal immigration and protecting American citizens. Yet many contend these laws violate not only the fundamental principles embodied in the United States Constitution, but the civil and human rights of millions of persons, non-citizens and citizens alike. A growing segment of the American population understands Arizona as a place characterized by xenophobia, violence, and incivility.

You might be asking yourself, why is this an appropriate topic for an editorial in Crit? What does this have to do with architecture? What does legislation in Arizona have to do with me?

These events have everything to do with architecture: architecture and society are inextricable. Buildings are parts of larger environs. They define the boundaries of ‘public’ and ‘private’, frame our perceptions of the world around us, and create spaces in which people are either welcomed or shunned. Just as they have ecological impacts, buildings have important (but often overlooked and misunderstood) sociopolitical impacts far beyond their walls. The discipline of architecture is affected by so many facets of society – the economy, the environment, law – and we must acknowledge this. Architect and educator Neil Leach has written, “Buildings should not simply reflect passively changing social conditions; they should be active instruments of change,” noting that “architecture is deeply embedded within economic and other structures of power.”[1] ...

Architecture is a political and cultural act. An architect is a builder of society. A responsible architect is a talented designer and an engaged citizen. As architecture students, we must be aware of the broader issues of the world that we will one day create. And Arizona serves as the cultural battleground of our generation.

Codifying Discrimination

On April 23, 2010, Arizona Governor Jan Brewer signed into law the “Support Our Law Enforcement and Safe Neighborhoods Act,” referred to as S.B. 1070. Citing “a compelling interest in the cooperative enforcement of federal immigration laws throughout all of Arizona,” this law intends to “discourage and deter the unlawful entry and presence of aliens and economic activity by persons unlawfully present in the United States.”[2] While enforcing federal laws seems a worthy objective, the specific way in which the law was to be carried out is morally objectionable: it required that law enforcement officials question any individual “where reasonable suspicion exists that the person is an alien who is unlawfully present in the United States” and gives them the power to arrest and detain that individual “without a warrant.” Police officers in Tucson reported that the day after the law took effect, their station was inundated with complaints such as, “Hey, there are some Mexicans standing on the corner. You need to check them out.”[3]

The backlash to S.B. 1070 was immediate. Numerous civic groups and political leaders argue that the law essentially legalizes racial profiling in a state where over 30 percent of the population is of Hispanic or Latino descent.[4] A week after she signed the law, Brewer signed an amendment that stated officials “may not consider race, color, or national origin in the enforcement” of the law, and that police officers may only investigate immigration status during a "lawful stop, detention, or arrest.” But many prominent civic leaders, including the mayor of Phoenix, continue to oppose the law. Over seventy state and municipal governments, including Los Angeles, San Francisco, Minneapolis, Seattle, and Cook County (Chicago), have joined a national boycott of Arizona, stating that their business with and travel to the state will be limited and cancelled entirely when possible. Hundreds of artists and musicians have joined Sound Strike, an international movement to boycott Arizona and leverage their positions as creators of culture to educate others. [5] According to the Arizona Chamber of Commerce, the boycott has cost the state as much as $150 million in potential revenue, but this figure remains uncertain.

Beyond the boycott, efforts to challenge the constitutionality of the law culminated in a lawsuit filed by the United States Department of Justice on July 6, 2010. The filed brief states, “Arizona’s immigration policy exceeds a state’s role with respect to aliens, interferes with the federal government’s balanced administration of the immigration laws, and critically undermines U.S. foreign policy objectives. S.B. 1070 does not simply seek to provide legitimate support to the federal government’s immigration policy, but instead creates an unprecedented independent immigration scheme that exceeds constitutional boundaries.”[6] In July 2010, the Federal Judge of the District of Arizona issued an injunction based on this lawsuit that prohibited the enforcement of many of the law’s provisions. But these legal challenges have not impeded its viral spread across America: as many as sixteen states are currently considering laws based on S.B. 1070.[7] In February 2011, Arizona filed a countersuit against the Department of Justice.

While the future of S.B. 1070 is unclear, its passage merely marked the beginning of xenophobic legislating. Less than a month after its passage, Governor Brewer signed into law H.B. 2281, which demands that school children be “taught to treat and value each other as individuals.” The law expressly prohibits courses that “are designed primarily for the pupils of a particular ethnic group” or “advocate ethnic solidarity.”[8] While this law has not garnered the widespread national attention of S.B. 1070, it is perhaps more relevant to architecture students: H.B. 2281 categorically forbids ethnic and racial studies curriculum in public institutions and threatens to transform the way in which minorities are viewed, understood, and treated.[9] In an even more egregious attack on civil rights, a state Representative seeks to introduce a bill that strips children of their 14^th Amendment guarantee of citizenship for individuals born in the United States.[10]

Effects of Incivility

As if these laws weren’t enough to raise civil, moral, and ethical red flags, Arizona was struck by confounding violence. By now, we are unfortunately all too familiar with the extraordinarily violent events that transpired on January 8 in a strip mall near Tucson, Arizona, where 22-year-old Jared Loughner mercilessly gunned down nineteen individuals. Six persons – including a 9-year-old girl and a federal judge – were killed in that parking lot. As of this writing, United States Democratic Representative Gabrielle Giffords, the primary target of his attack, , slowly and painfully recovers in a rehabilitation facility in Houston.

The harrowing details of that morning are rather matter-of-fact, but the cultural, social, and spatial causes of Loughner’s attack must be questioned. We cannot decisively attribute his act to a specific set of political views or laws, including S.B. 1070 and H.B. 2281. Rather, Loughner’s attack and these laws seem to be symptoms of broader forces at work in Arizona. Cultural institutions recognize this: the University of Arizona – with its main campus in Tucson – recently created the National Institute for Civil Discourse, with a stated mission to “support research and policy generation and a set of innovative programs advocating for civility in public discourse, while encouraging vigorous public debate, civic engagement, and civic leadership.”

One fact remains clear: this violence has forever transformed Arizona’s cultural landscape and has brought the antipathetic nature of this place into sharp focus. In an editorial in the February 13 edition of Washington Post, reporter Sari Horwitz, who was born and raised in Tucson, described the city as a place “stripped of its innocence“ asserting, “Extreme acts of violence affect the psychological and social fabric of a community in subtle but important ways. The place where residents have felt safe doesn't feel quite so safe anymore. Insecurity creeps in. Anxieties rise.”

The Solution?

Horwitz’s statements raise important questions about space and place in Arizona. The fact that Phoenix is slated to be the host city for FORUM 2011 makes AIAS a player in this cultural milieu. Granted, the decision to host FORUM in Phoenix was made by chapter leaders on January 1, 2010 – before S.B. 1070 and H.B. 2281 were even introduced on the floor of the Arizona legislature, when the implications of these laws could be neither foretold nor fully understood, and few had heard the name, “Jared Loughner”. Nevertheless, we must now confront these issues, and our principles act as guides.

Leadership, service, and education form the core values of AIAS. One might say that, at its core, the vision of AIAS is to build a better world or at least encourage architecture students to carry this mantle. A selection of AIAS public policy statements offers direction more specific to the question at hand:

·       Human Rights > Diversity: “The AIAS supports that all organizations, educational institutions, and design firms value diversity of people and ideas.”

·       Education > Learning Environment: “AIAS endorses that schools of architecture have a responsibility to provide a nurturing, safe, and diverse environment for its students, faculty, and staff that is free of discrimination.”

·       Education > Leadership: “AIAS endorses that schools provide students with clear opportunities for active leadership roles within the student organizations, the institution, and the greater community.”

·       Studio Culture: “A positive culture of design must exhibit respect, optimism, sharing, innovation and engagement.”

·       Human Rights > Discrimination: “The AIAS advocates that educational organizations, design firms, and professional organizations should provide equal opportunities regardless of sex, race, ethnicity, religion, age, veteran status, disability, marital status, sexual orientation, or any factor prohibited by law.”

These statements are embodiments of the values of AIAS, and as such they should extend to everything that we do. Our schools and firms operate within larger institutions: local, state, and national governments. Thus, if architecture students demand these standards in our educational and professional environments, we should demand them of our social, political, and cultural institutions as well. Certainly, the pillar of “education” implies that architecture students have a responsibility to educate ourselves about social and cultural issues beyond the studio that – whether we understand it or not – will impact our work as creators of the built environment. Similarly, the doctrine of “leadership” requires that architecture students serve as exemplars. And the word “service” reminds us that we are committed to creating a better society, especially for marginalized persons.

And so I ask you, AIAS members and architecture students, what guidance do your principles provide? How will you confront Arizona? How will these issues inform your conception of architectural practice and the role of the architect in society?

Perhaps these seem like odd questions – cultural and political issues in Arizona might not be at the forefront of your consciousness. Yet, as an AIAS member, you are asked to espouse the aforementioned values. Furthermore, while AIAS may not seem to be a ‘political’ organization in the strictest sense of the word, it is certainly not an apolitical organization. The fact that FORUM is Arizona simply gives us a more pointed reason to ask these questions. In an address five days after the massacre in Tucson, President Obama reminded us that “we are all Americans…our task, working together, is to constantly widen the circle of our concern so that we bequeath the American dream to future generations.”

Architecture students have a deep history and strong reputation for being the "conscience" of the profession. On important issues such as intern compensation, studio culture, diversity, and sustainability, we have led our peers and elders, challenged social norms, and overcome societal inertia. Time and time again, students have demonstrated that we don’t have to wait until we become architects (or something else) to generate change; we don’t have to hold all the cards to affect the game. Civil rights leader Whitney Young, Jr. recognized our fearlessness in his famous speech to the 1968 AIA Convention, proclaiming, “The poor and disinherited of our society today have found strong allies. These allies are the young people of this country…who can document with unerring accuracy the inconsistencies in our society, the pervasive gap between what we practice and what we preach.”

The current situation in Arizona provides us with yet another opportunity to rise to the occasion and tests our ethical and moral mettle. Will architecture students sit silently? Where do you stand on these abhorrent attacks on human rights that run against our very spirit? How do you square your ideals with the realities of Arizona?

Your responses will be published in the pages of Crit.

With enthusiasm, optimism, and respect,

Brett Roeth

Crit Editor-in-Chief

crit@aias.org

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[1] Neil Leach, “Architecture or Revolution?” in Architecture and Revolution, ed. Neal Leach. (London: Routledge, 1999), 112 – 116.

[2] The full text of the law is available from the Arizona state legislature: http://www.azleg.gov/legtext/49leg/2r/bills/SB1070s.pdf.

[3] Peter Slevin, “Arizona law on immigration puts law enforcement in a tight spot.” Washington Post, April 30, 2010.

[4] This number is a 2008 U.S. Census Bureau estimate. As of this writing, figures from the 2010 Census were not available.

[5] While there is no single, verifiable, regularly-updated source for information regarding boycotts of Arizona, lists of those governments, organizations, and individuals who have announced their support of the boycott or cancelled events in Arizona can be found at azcentral.com, puenteaz.org, and thesoundstrike.info.

[6] The full DOJ brief and supporting documents are available at the DOJ Web site: http://www.justice.gov/opa/pr/2010/July/10-opa-776.html

[7] Seth Freed Wessler, “Bills modeled after Arizona’s SB 1070 Spread Through States,” Color Lines, March 3, 2011, Accessed March 5, http://colorlines.com/archives/2011/03/sb_1070_copycat_bills.html.

[8] The full text of the law is available from the Arizona state legislature: http://www.azleg.gov/legtext/49leg/2r/bills/hb2281s.pdf.

[9] While the language of H.B. 2281 suggests its application is limited to primary and secondary schools, many fear its provisions will be extended to public colleges and universities.

[10] In the first months of 2011, the Arizona legislature has taken up numerous bills intended to further strip immigrants of their civil rights and dignity, including S.B. 1097, 1117, 1308, 1309, 1405, 1406, 1490, 1611, S.C.R. 1010, and H.B. 2357. The bills, in full text, are accessible at http://www.azleg.gov/Bills.asp.