Just Talk: The Power of Connections and the 2019 AIA Women’s Leadership Summit: Emily Pierson-Brown

When I moved to Pittsburgh in June of 2016, I knew exactly one person: my soon-to-be wife who had recently started teaching at The University of Pittsburgh. In a bit of a coincidence, she had grown up in Steel City and happened to be offered a job at Pitt Law when she was on the job market. So she had a few friends and acquaintances in the area, but the landscape of Pittsburgh had changed significantly in 20 years, and in a sense we were both starting fresh.

I started working at Perkins Eastman several months later, and mentioned to one of our marketing managers my need to do some serious networking in order to meet folks in the AEC industry around town. “In Pittsburgh we just call that ‘talking to people’,” she replied. That shift in perspective has
stayed with me ever since.

And that’s how I met Debbie Millman, one of my idols. I just talked to her.

Last September I attended the 2019 AIA Women’s Leadership Summit in Minneapolis. (Related post: mentorArchitect’s 2017 AIA Women’s Leadership Summit in Washington DC) On the plane home I was sky high, literally and figuratively, having spent four days in the company of over 750 women in the architecture industry. The conference was an incredibly formative experience for me, and as I reflected back on the long weekend and its wealth of opportunities and connections, I thought, “How on earth did I get here? How did I come to be in this place with what conference organizers are estimating is the largest gathering of female architects ever assembled in history?”

That’s when I first started thinking about charting my experiences and the people who helped me arrive here. We all carry our own personal mantras around with us, and it’s fascinating sometimes to see how they shape our view of the world. Socrates famously said, “The unexamined life is not worth living.” Maya Angelou wrote: “If you must look back, do so forgivingly. If you will look forward, do so prayerfully. But the wisest course would be to be present in the present gratefully.” Echoing that sentiment was Toshiko Mori, the WLS closing speaker, who exhorted us, throughout our careers, to Be Grateful.

As I started to gratefully examine my life in the present and how I’d arrived here, I thought about my fellow co-leaders of Women+ in Design PGH who co-presented with me at Build Pittsburgh that spring and inspired me to continue championing equity in our field. Then I thought further back to Michelle Fanzo, the Executive Director of AIA PGH, who had brought to my attention the Sho-Ping Chin Grant that allowed me to travel to WLS. Then I thought further back to the leadership of my office who sponsored me to attend a local conference where I met Michelle for the first time, and then further back to my time in DC and my favorite grad school professor, Julie, who first introduced me to Perkins Eastman’s DC office…

It is these seemingly inconsequential meetings and decisions that can later have such a profound effect on your life. You just never know.

The Women’s Leadership Summit was in some ways just another conference. There were speeches and breakout sessions and (actually halfway decent) conference meals. The sessions ran the gamut from tax incentives and time management to empowerment and creating positive change. As at any conference, you are going to get out of these as much as you want to. Maybe there will be a nugget of wisdom in there that will make the whole thing worth it. Maybe not. The best session I attended was titled: “How to set your career path and lead authentically.” Best not because of anything particularly brilliant that was said, but because the three presenters (each principals at their firms) had done their own self- reflection and translated this into graphics they shared with us. I was intensely inspired. My own Connectivity Chart started to come into clearer focus.

Just like a brilliantly designed building, it was the spaces in between at WLS that became the most beautiful to sit within, the most rewarding to inhabit. Very quickly I discovered that it was much easier to talk to people there than at any other large event I’d ever attended. Priya Parker, our dazzling keynote speaker and author of The Art of Gathering (for more on this, check out Robyn Engel’s wonderful piece in the YAF newsletter), explained this: When we gather together with people with whom we have more and more in common (all women then all women architects) we are able to get to intimacy much faster. We can skip past the “having to figure each other out” stage, past the “who am I to you?” jockeying that often happens, especially at networking events. And we can just talk.

So I started just saying hello. I said hello to a woman after the Leading Authentically session and we talked for almost 45 minutes. We both seemed to be trying to figure something out, something essential about our careers. It was an intense and deeply meaningful conversation, and we’ve stayed in touch. I talked to the seven other women from Perkins Eastman who I’d never met before and now we correspond regularly, Skyping to cheer each other on and celebrate one another’s successes. I was able to speak to Julie, my favorite grad school professor, and was able to thank her for tangentially connecting me to my dream job.

I spoke with several of the founders of the Sho-Ping Chin grant and learned more about this remarkable woman and architect in whose legacy I was honored to walk. I discussed with friends and acquaintances from Pittsburgh to figure out how to harness the energy and inspiration in those rooms and bring it back home with us.

And I talked to Debbie Millman.

The morning of the first day, right after Priya Parker’s insightful, interactive keynote, I looked up from my table to see Debbie Millman, the emcee for the event, sitting by herself at the speaker table. If you don’t know who Debbie Millman is, go right now and check out her podcast called “Design Matters” and her bio outlining her illustrious career in graphic design and education. I should have been terrified of this woman. She is a powerhouse. But then I thought: what’s the harm in saying hello?

Over the course of the next two days, Debbie and I floated in and out of each other’s orbits. As the emcee she necessarily had duties to attend to; as a conference participant, I had sometimes other places to be. But as the only non-architect in the room, she was a unique sounding board for some of my own professional challenges. I explained to her the rigorous registration and exam process for architects, highlighting my own struggles with finishing exam numbers five and six. She was encouraging and empathetic. I asked her about some of the upcoming guests on her show, and we told stories of our partners left behind in other cities. We just talked.

At the end of the last day, my cup of inspiration overflowing, I told her of my renewed intention to finish my exams and celebrate that success in New York City over the holidays. “We’ll have dinner when you come to New York,” she said, “Just let me know when.” That promised dinner never materialized, but my architect’s license did. I returned to Pittsburgh re-energized in my focus towards achieving this professional marker that I had set aside for too long. Meeting hundreds of registered female architects, hearing their stories, sharing their passions, understanding their challenges, had encouraged me like nothing else ever could. The next time I come here, I told myself, I want to have that credential. I want to be someone that inspires the next generation of architects. I hope they’ll talk to me.

When I arrived home, I couldn’t help but put (Apple) Pencil to (Morpholio) Trace Paper. I started with a box for the Women’s Leadership Summit and then connected it with the people who had helped me get there as well as the people I’d met. In trying to decipher my own present (gratefully), I made connections forward and back. Red arrows for people I’d reached out to, green for times someone had done something on my behalf. A clear pattern started to emerge: after an initial ring of red arrows, there was a responsive ring of green. I had no way of knowing whether any of the people I’d met in my early days in Pittsburgh would become important to me. Here was clear evidence that many had and that my life and career were forever shaped by them.

The last person I talked to at WLS was a woman I have not seen in over twenty years. As I pushed my way through the revolving door of the conference hotel, the back of the head of the woman in front of me started to look familiar. I began to walk away towards my waiting car, but something told me not to. “Excuse me,” I said, “Is your name by any chance… Beth?” She hesitated for a moment, trying to place me, and I revealed that I thought we had graduated from the University of Virginia together several decades before. As recognition started to dawn on her face, we played a quick game of catch-up in the few moments before our rides got impatient. We marveled at the experience we’d just had and I could feel our mutual reluctance at letting go of something special we had all shared. We exchanged contact info and though I haven’t heard from her since, I have hope. She’s on the chart.

Because you just never know.

Written by Emily Pierson-Brown

Emily Pierson-Brown, AIA, LEED Green Associate

Associate at Perkins Eastman in Pittsburgh