How Pencils Can Change Lives

Discovering the impact Urban Planners can have…

I always thought Architecture was about design. I thought it was about aesthetics. Design a unique looking building. Of course, beauty was supplemented with brawn; some structures were marvelous feats of engineering. Size, strength...

That’s what happens when your knowledge is based off pop culture.

For me, an architect was someone who sketched on enormous sheets of paper. What they did was important. Definitely. Each project an exercise in creativity and efficiency. But I never realized how impactful their drawings could be.

Earlier, if someone claimed that an architect’s work changed lives, I would excuse the tinge of hyperbole. Sure, a better design for that house meant the family didn’t suffer from the cold weather as much. Yes, the iconic spirals on that tower makes our city a more memorable one for tourists. But I, without derision or scorn, considered them as fashion designers for structures.

They made lives better. But change them?

It was only when I experienced the influence of a closely related profession, Urban Planning, that I realized how influential pencil strokes on sheets of paper could be.

Before I continue, apologies to those who might take offense at the lack of nuance exhibited when it comes to these professions.

I recently moved to a bustling city, one which on the surface may seem similar to others I’ve spent time in. Over the years I’d conjured up approximations of what streets, residential buildings, pavements and so on were supposed to look like. If I was to play a game on city development, I’d rely on what until recently I thought were standard layouts.

In a city, if you were to turn off the main highway, and into one of the residential areas, what would you expect? I’d be comfortable with two lane roads cut at 90 degree angles, like permanent strips of black tape separating hostile apartment buildings. These blocks of concrete would soar upward, packing in hundreds of residents. Cars would emerge from the mouths of the building, slowly snaking their way, eager to leave the jungle and hit a less claustrophobic roadway.

So what happens when pavements, normally enslaved to the side of roaring main roads, destined to aide singular file of pedestrians, seem to rebel and settle down in residential areas? The relative absence of car engines seem to embolden then, and like obese men on the subway, they squeeze roads until just a single strip remains.

Suddenly, cars no longer taunt pedestrians, like bullies eager to whip nerds who step in their way. Its a lot quieter. The buildings don’t seem so tall anymore, perhaps because you no longer stand at the base and crane upwards.

The next step is unclear. Did shops emerge at the base of these buildings, because leaving the block in a car was annoying? Or was using a car annoying when a stroll to the ground floor could get you your groceries?

It doesn’t stop there. After the initial apprehension, everyone warms to the abundant pavements. They’d grown accustomed to walking like ants, in a single file. But now, something slows them down. Maybe because a car isn’t breathing down their neck. Maybe because for the first time in weeks they’ve heard birds chirping. Maybe someone just remembered they are thirsty, and stopped at a grocery store.

Its not long before the milling crowds that sip tea and nibble on sandwiches are offered chairs. Then tables. Then retractable canopies that provide both shade and an odd sense of sophistication.

People meet their neighbours, engage in fierce discussions with restauranteurs who continually bob in and out of the kitchen and start to fall in love with the birds that perch on balconies.

These are the people who should be ejecting themselves from cars into bowels of sombre buildings. They are meant to treat walking as some sort of penance, a reminder of their dependence on money, oil, car and comfort. Hoarders of giant plastic bags, filled weekly at the mega store, their minds filled with rhythmic beeps of bar code scanners rather than small talk with the local grocer.

But their lives were changed. Not in tangible ways, like X-Rays displayed by a doctor. Not even instantly. But as years pass by, the symptoms begin to show. A vague sense of dissatisfaction upon change in residence, perhaps the best endorsement of all.

And to think that it all started with a sketch on a large sheet of paper...

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