How Being a Mom Makes Me a Better Designer

Moms jumping rope at the park.

At the beginning of my architecture career, I became pregnant with my first son. As I waddled around and struggled with fatigue and nausea, I started to see my environment differently. Almost suddenly, the distance to the nearest bathroom became a priority, as well as if the meeting space was up or downstairs and if there was an elevator since every step became a trial. After I had my son, how we moved together as family mattered, as well as visibility points. Safety also became a concern. Can I let my child play a safe distance away if I can't see him clearly? What streets were safe to walk by, if this cafe or that one had a toddler friendly bathroom, how were the parking lots, was it too noisy for my little one, and on and on.

Having to be someone other than a healthy young adult helped me to consider how others moved around and used the same spaces that I used. It also helped me to consider how children used the space since I had to become ever conscious of my child's whereabouts. In college, we had a day where we had to pretend we were incapacitated in some way, such as being blindfolded or in a wheelchair. It helped me understand a bit what it was like but there was nothing quite like living it for what stretched into years of my life. Now, as a design professional, here are eight things that are constantly on my mind as I work through a project:

1) How do you plan on using the space?

As an architect, you can think of me as your design advocate. I am constantly advocating for what's best for you, not just now but for in the future as you develop and change as well. In a forever home, lots of stairs and levels are likely to be out of the question because of how you will eventually use the space at various points in your life. If you're someone who requires a lot of quiet and peaceful moments, having several spaces in your house or building may be something that you might not have known you needed but once designed, you realize you did. Personalizing a space and it's use to you is probably the most important thing I can do for you as an architect.

2) Considering how specific things are used.

As someone who has experienced awful kitchen design, I promise to do whatever I can to save you from the special type of annoyance that comes with it. The kitchen is an easy, relatable topic that anyone who frequently cooks can understand why the layout and specific way you use it is important. But what about other things in your building? In homes, it may be nice to have a bathroom with large counterspace for easy access to make-up or other products. In a commercial space, having storage where frequently used items are easy to grab for anyone of any height may be what's really needed for great design. Is this planter frequently used as a natural rest stop? Turning into a multifunctional bench, table and step may be perfect for your space, without any extra designing or tools, and it adds to your customer experience. By considering how it's used, I can optimize the design to something both elegant and ergonomical.

3) Can a stroller or wheelchair go here?

As architects, it's part of our duty to ensure a space is designed equitably -- meaning that everyone can experience the space in a manner that is "fair." Oftentimes, there are stairs and ramps that allow for movement throughout a space. What makes things hard is when the access to a ramp is obscure or the ramp itself is out of the way for the user. There are many reasons why ramps are necessary. Apart from the obvious wheelchairs and strollers, someone who might have trouble lifting their legs like an eighty-year-old or a very pregnant woman may choose to take a ramp instead of stairs. Someone with a fragile delivery might also choose this path or someone may just like ramps more. It's also equitable to have the landing space of these ramps shared with the main stairs. Usually there is a nice foyer a stair ends at. Nothing says you're an afterthought more than ending up in a completely different (and often way down-graded) space compared to everyone else. As an architect, I avoid this at all costs.

4) Coat hooks, coat hooks, coat hooks.

It's small to some but there are few things more egregious to me when the coat hooks for a bathroom are missing. Where am I supposed to put my purse? My coat? Other random things I decided to carry that day? It's a small detail but it really puts a damper on a beautifully design bathroom since I have to now struggle to use it sensibly. Diaper bags and purses on the floor are just a big no-no. And there's rarely ever a flat space on the toilet paper holder for things like your phone. So there's no option but to multitask. In some countries, these small but crucial elements are often missing; and it's a giveaway that something was designed by a man in my opinion (who may have otherwise designed the bathroom beautifully).

5) Is this the right size stall?

Speaking of bathrooms, it never ceases to amaze me how small some architects make bathroom stalls -- even when there is more than ample space to make them larger. Sometimes we have to help little ones but the only large stall (the required accessible one) is taken or out of order. Even a second, larger stall (like an ambulatory stall) would be helpful. When I was pregnant, I felt like a whale. I put on 40 pounds in less than 6 months and so my body and the way I moved was increasingly new to me. Getting into a stall and trying to turn around without touching the toilet --because yuck-- was another trial I did not foresee but experienced. Six more inches to let the door swing in without the uncomfortable dance would have done wonders.

6) Are private rooms tucked away but still sensibly located?

In most situations, a restroom should be in an easily accessible place, that is not in a frequent path of travel, like directly off from a main room. I'm not sure about anyone else, but the last thing I want to hear after coming out of a bathroom is, "So you've been in the bathroom the whole time! I was wondering where you went!" It's a flat out no for me. As a designer, protecting people's privacy and dignity are high on my list. I think about these things, so you don't have to. I've actually been in scenarios where I had to fight to for the dignity of future users, just because another designer really wanted to make another space more accessible by 15 feet. They would have added nothing to the design, except more opportunities for stress and awkward interactions. As your design advocate, these are the little details I fight for to help users have a great experience of your space.

7) Is it obvious?

Some things in planning need to be obvious, even without signage. When in a hurry to reach your destination, the path to it should be obvious or at least have wayfinding (AKA signage) clearly showing where to go. If you're entering the main music hall, the doors shouldn't blend in with the doors to the mechanical closet. They should be ornate and located off of the pre-function space. On the flip side, as much as possible, unused private spaces should be more tucked away and obscure, so that they are not mistaken for a main room when it is something like storage or private office space. Why should it be obvious? Some reasons include designing for tiredness/reducing brain power required to properly function (baby brain is very real and awful!), designing for children (fancier doors = more fun, right? I'd rather my kid run into a hall versus a HVAC closet), designing for lack of language (foreign or not formed, moving through a building should be easy without understanding the words). Designs should feel natural and seem to call you to where a space would naturally be.

8) What's the overall experience?

For me as a healthy user? For me as a mom moving with my family? For me as a tired person who may need some additional rest points? Taking on the persona of all of these different users and working through how I would have navigated a space or how I would feel in a space is a crucial part of design. Do I feel safe here? And can I feel rested here in a place that I'm supposed to rest at? are a part of all the key questions I ask myself as I work through a design. This is not just limited to how you move through a space but also down to details such as color and noise levels, or even where a space is located (remember number 6?)

Consideration for all of this and more are part of my training as an architect, and experience as someone who twice over went through very major changes to both my personhood and family dynamic. The experience of being a mum undoubtably changed how I perceive and think about planned space. It has made me more empathetic and thoughtful in my designs, and a better person.

If you're interested in design services, I encourage you to check out my qualification questions on my homepage and to send me a message if you think I am the right architect for you. If what you need doesn't quite fit what I offer but you still think I may be right for you, feel free to reach out also. I sometimes take projects that are outside of my typical services.

Looking forward to hearing from you.

Your Fellow Architect,

Erika