Discover the journey of Professor Mark Moreno, an architect and educator whose experiences, from a family restaurant in Texas to Harvard's Graduate School of Design, have fueled his passion for inclusive and accessible architecture. His innovative teaching methods, inspired by personal interactions and a 36-hour wheelchair immersion, emphasize hands-on experiences and workplace simulations to cultivate empathy in aspiring architects.
As Professor Moreno’s career evolved, so did his perspective, recognizing the concept of 'accessibility privilege' and advocating for architects to be active promoters of inclusivity. Real-world projects driven by student collaborations exemplify the tangible impact of Moreno’s commitment to inclusivity, such as the redesign of a museum entrance prompted by a student's wheelchair incident.
Professor Moreno urges fellow architects to be allies and activists for change. I invite you to join me as we dive into his teachings and the transformative projects of his students, providing insights into the pivotal role architects play in creating a more inclusive and accessible world.
Please introduce yourself and share a bit about your background.
Hello, I'm Mark Moreno, and my upbringing in a lively family of ten in Texas alongside our family-run restaurant, ingrained in me a profound appreciation for spaces and design. My educational path led me to the University of Texas at Arlington for my architecture studies. I cultivated my skills further at Harvard's Graduate School of Design, earning a master's degree. Throughout my professional journey, I've had the privilege of teaching at Texas A&M University and Hampton University. However, since 1996, my dedication has been to nurturing the next generation of architects at Andrews University. At Andrews, my primary focus encompasses teaching foundational courses like Introduction to Architecture Studio, Introduction to Design Theory, Person-Environment Theory, and specialized areas such as Kitchens and Bath Designs. Additionally, I co-teach a diverse range of classes with my colleagues.
How did your interest in disability awareness and design inclusivity develop throughout your career?
During my time in architecture school in Texas, a particular professor stood out who emphasized the importance of understanding our responsibilities toward disability. This experience, coupled with personal interactions, notably with a regular customer at our family restaurant named Lynn White (president of Lighthouse for the Blind), sparked insightful conversations. These discussions delved into how architecture should respond to the needs of blind individuals. My Christian upbringing has also shaped my awareness and empathy towards people in wheelchairs. This background has instilled a profound sense of compassion, influencing my perspective on inclusivity in architectural design. Overall, these experiences have contributed to my commitment to creating spaces that consider and cater to the diverse needs of individuals, particularly those with disabilities.
Can you provide some context on the current state of accessibility awareness within architecture?
The approach to accommodating diverse needs in architecture varies across firms and is mainly influenced by each client's unique requirements. Undeniably, creating accommodations tends to be more resource-intensive in regard to time, complexity, and cost, especially when dealing with aspects like wheelchair accessibility. Technical elements such as electronics may also necessitate expert consultation, adding to the overall expenses.
In the current landscape, a legal framework is in place to ensure a baseline of accessibility, especially in new and public buildings, with standards enforced since 1991 under the ADA guidelines. While these guidelines establish minimum expectations for accommodation, achieving true inclusivity often depends on the commitment of clients and the financial resources available. As a result, the state of our buildings, particularly concerning accessibility, usually meets or exceeds these minimum standards, but advancements beyond that are driven by each client's priorities and budget considerations.
What motivated you to create a curriculum that engages students experiencing accessibility challenges firsthand?
The driving force behind my curriculum is rooted in empathy, particularly considering the interconnected impact of the topics I teach—ranging from the physical world to the environment and society. Winston Churchill's renowned quote, 'We shape our buildings, after that they shape us,' encapsulates the essence of inclusive architecture. Our daily lives are significantly influenced by the spaces we inhabit, and unfortunately, many homes are not designed with accessibility in mind. Individuals who use wheelchairs often experience isolation and exclusion from social invitations.
Motivated to bridge this gap, I embarked on a transformative journey. Recognizing the power of hands-on experiences, I used a wheelchair for 36 hours. This eye-opening immersion highlighted the challenges and privileges I had taken for granted—simple tasks like reaching a top shelf became significant obstacles. Inspired by this profound learning experience, I incorporated a unique assignment into my curriculum. Students are tasked with exploring spaces that lack compliance with ADA guidelines, sharing their experiences, and reflecting on the impact of inclusive design.
I encourage authenticity and understanding through a distinctive approach. While not advocating for dishonesty, I challenge students to simulate scenarios within their workplaces—considering how their employers might react to unexpected accessibility challenges. This exercise aims to elicit genuine reactions and promote a deeper understanding of the importance of inclusive design. The emphasis is not on deception but on fostering empathy and documenting these insights for a more compassionate and accessible future.
How has your perspective on architecture evolved as you've delved deeper into the intersection of design and accessibility?
While I consider myself more informed than the average person about accessibility, I've come to recognize the concept of 'accessibility privilege.' While serving on the diversity council, this term gained prominence during discussions at the intersection of gender, inclusion, and diversity equity. I aim to prompt conversations about privilege through the lens of accessibility by emphasizing provisions, empathy, and the challenges faced by those using wheelchairs. I hope these discussions encourage empathy, making people aware of the extra time required for tasks, such as waiting for an accessible elevator.
To convey these challenges, I've conducted exercises like guiding children across the street to the art building, some using wheelchairs. Confronted with stairs, it sparks immediate conversations on empathizing and finding solutions. This intentional shift in thinking extends beyond physical spaces to consider life changes for those in wheelchairs permanently.
While I've become more mindful, I acknowledge my limits in truly understanding the experience without being permanently blind or in a wheelchair. These discussions naturally extend to broader societal issues like race and gender. As chair of a subcommittee on the diversity council, I lead efforts to conduct an accessibility audit across campus, considering visible and hidden disabilities, such as autism and hearing impairment.
Have you encountered significant turning points or experiences shaping your commitment to promoting disability awareness in architectural education?
The timing of this discussion is quite fitting. Over the years, I've gathered articles and student papers, realizing the need to elevate awareness at the university level. Approximately three to four years ago, three students collaborated with me to showcase their projects at the Faculty Institute on Disabilities. They focused on two crucial aspects: a 24-hour wheelchair access experiment and proposed additions to the James White Library.
One noteworthy project addressed the issue of wheelchair access, aiming to redesign the entrance so that individuals in wheelchairs could use the front access rather than being directed to the side entrance near the dumpster. Historically, this setup wasn't intentionally designed with wheelchair accessibility in mind but for other logistical purposes. This awareness was raised through student initiatives, emphasizing the importance of equal access to entrances.
Recently, a student named rightfully challenged me, asking why action hadn't been taken on these issues. This callout prompted me to engage in the accessibility audit, leading to our current conversation. Addressing these concerns will require a collective effort involving student interactions, awareness campaigns, and active engagement. This recent motivation underscores the ongoing commitment to fostering a more inclusive and accessible university environment.
In what ways do you believe architects can play a role in creating more inclusive and accessible communities?
Indeed, awareness alone isn't sufficient; we must strive to become allies and activists for change, addressing intersecting issues of race, gender, and disability rights. As architects, we have the power to shape our built environment in ways that prioritize accessibility for all individuals. It's imperative that considerations for blindness, autism, and wheelchair accessibility are not relegated to the backburner but instead become integral to our design priorities.
We must advocate for architectural designs that benefit everyone, from the way light enters a space to the textures of buildings—reflecting on discussions with my late friend Neil Moran, who emphasized the importance of accessibility for senior citizens—particularly regarding issues such as stair design. Neil's experience highlighted the safety concerns posed by poorly defined stair edges, particularly for those with fading eyesight due to aging.
By actively engaging in these conversations and advocating for inclusive design practices, we can create environments that enhance the quality of life for all individuals, regardless of ability or age. It's time for architects to not only be aware but to actively champion accessibility and inclusivity in our designs, becoming agents of positive change in our communities.
Are there specific experiences or encounters that inspired you to advocate for accessibility improvements within the architectural profession?
The memory of Lynn White, a regular at the restaurant, remains vivid in my mind. I recall a moment driving when I spotted him in the middle of the street, attempting to orient himself in different directions to find his way home. Concerned, I offered assistance, but he declined. It was only when I identified myself as Mark that he welcomed the help, expressing an understandable hesitation to accept assistance from a stranger. This encounter has left a lasting impact on me, emphasizing the challenges individuals like Lynn face in navigating their surroundings and highlighting the importance of empathy and support in such situations.
Are there any notable success stories or positive outcomes from your students' projects focused on accessibility and walkability?
Several years ago, we had an extraordinary quadriplegic student, Neil Cobb, who left a lasting impact. Neil's resilience and innovative spirit were remarkable; he operated his computer, typed with his nose, and navigated a rollerball with his chin. Neil, the first to use SketchUp, successfully graduated from our undergraduate program.
Our collaboration on a wheelchair assignment took us to the Curious Kids Museum. While entering through the only accessible entrance, we encountered a challenge as the sidewalk ended in the grass. Opting to traverse the grass, I got stuck, much to Neil's amusement. However, at the loading dock, an incident with Neil's wheelchair falling off the ramp underscored the need for better accessibility. Prompted by this incident, the museum's director, also a board member, advocated for immediate changes.
I designed a ramp that not only addressed accessibility but also enhanced the museum's surroundings. The project cost around $50,000, but it served a dual purpose by providing a space for relaxation and lunches. A pivotal moment occurred when Neil highlighted an oversight in the disability awareness exhibit. Despite being designed to engage children in wheelchair-related activities, the entryway unintentionally restricted wheelchair movement. This unintended exclusion contradicted the exhibit's inclusive goal, prompting a reassessment and redesign to truly reflect the spirit of accessibility and inclusivity.
How do you encourage collaboration among students with diverse backgrounds and perspectives in your courses?
The initial designs for the main entrance of the James White Library were highly functional and prioritized utility over aesthetics. The primary goal was to facilitate wheelchair access efficiently, but it lacked the intention of making the experience delightful.
In my approach to teaching, I often assign experimental and hands-on projects involving teamwork. This strategy aims to foster awareness and create crossovers between different cultures. One such project delves into the diversity within architecture, challenging students to contemplate the role of architecture in discussions surrounding diversity and inclusion. The assignment encourages students to curate thoughtful responses, fostering not only ideas but also a heightened awareness of the complexities involved in addressing diversity within the field of architecture.
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