Equity in Alabama

This week’s reading, and especially Alejandro Aravena’s lecture brought back strong memories of a trip that I took in the fall of 2012. It was one of the most socially and architecturally enlightening trips I have ever been on. It wasn’t Chicago, and it wasn’t D.C. It was rural Alabama. 

My studio took a class trip visit the work of Samuel Mockbee and Auburn’s Rural Studio. We learned about the program prior to our trip, and I was very excited to see all of the wonderful projects that the studio was doing. We planned the trip to span several days, in which we would visit a wide array of project sites and finally the studio itself. 

In my naivety, I assumed we were going to see fascinating, well-loved works of student architecture and happy communities of users. I was very wrong.

Our first stop was Mason’s Bend, the location of the Glass Chapel, the Butterfly House, and other Rural Studio projects. The version of the Glass Chapel that I imagined was a proud community center that looked exactly like the architectural photos you find on the internet. The reality was much sadder. The rammed earth foundation walls had obscene graffiti carved into it. Several of the glass windshields had been cracked by rocks and BBs. Fast food wrappers and other trash littered the floor. There were a few kids inside playing cards, but they showed no interest when we said hello. This place was gifted to the Mason’s Bend community, but no one seemed to own it. There was no one who felt they should love it, use it, or take care of it. 

We visited several other places after that, including the Newbern Little League field and Perry Lakes Park. The little league field was overgrown with near waist high grass and the netting was damaged. Perry Lakes Park seemed well cared for, but we did not see a single visitor while we were there.

The trip was so disappointing. I was so excited to see how students were helping people in their community through gifts of architecture. These projects were loved by students and professors, and I think they were loved by the user too when they were received. Unfortunately, once that shiny and new feeling wears off, a gift can be forgotten and lose its meaning. 

On the last day, we visited a neighborhood in Greensboro and the trip was salvaged. The neighborhood was comprised of Habitat for Humanity houses and Rural Studio’s 20K houses. In contrast to all of the other sites we had visited, this neighborhood was obviously well loved. The yards were all neatly kept, some with nice plantings, others with quirky yard ornaments. Some people were sitting on their porches, others were out walking their dogs. Everyone we encountered was friendly and wanted to tell us about their homes. 

This was how I expected every Rural Studio site to be. Architecturally this place was like all of the others, but the users were different. Each person in this neighborhood had paid for their house, even though it was only a small amount. These users helped the students with design and construction and they paid to own the home. That sweat equity and monetary exchange made all the difference. These users truly loved and felt ownership for their homes.