|
I awoke at five o’clock that morning to the sounds
of thunder and the downpour that ensued.
“Oh, God,” I thought. “What will we do if
this day is a complete wash-out?” It had been a string
of hazy, rainy, humid summer days, but there was to be no
rain date for our day at the beach. At noon that day, 150
kids, 30 counselors and 20 architects, myself included, would
be convening at Coney Island to build castles in the sand.
I realized that, no matter what the weather or whatever else
the day might bring, I was committed to everyone involved
having a day of creativity and play.
It was a Wednesday in the midst of summer when most architects
are either away on vacation somewhere or working feverishly
to meet pre-fall deadlines. As a result, many had to decline
the invitation, though not for lack of interest. In my quest
to deliver thirty architects to the event, I had interacted
with hundreds of architects in the New York, New Jersey and
Connecticut area. I was floored by how much compassion exists
among my fellow professionals.
Unfortunately for some, the date had been pre-determined by
Good Shepherd Services’ Summer Camp Program as a day
of outdoor events. They had reserved bus transportation and
secured all their insurance for the day. So, when I approached
them with the idea of having architects interact with children
in a community project, it seemed like the perfect fit for
the day they had planned. Rather than an Olympic-style program
at Prospect Park, the supervisors of the Red Hook Community
Center Beacon would instead direct the buses to Coney Island
for a sand castle building workshop.
I arrived at the beach at ten a.m. with my friend and colleague,
YiRu Chen, a box of tee shirts for the architects, and some
shovels and tools with which to sculpt. On the Boardwalk,
by Astroland, we encountered Duke from the New York City Parks
Department. He showed me that the sand had been bulldozed
into neat piles, exactly as requested, and that one of his
colleagues would be along later to provide us with the hose
hookup. YiRu and I came upon Aaron Prouty, an architecture
student at Hampshire College, and his girlfriend, Julia Benedict,
a set designer. They had both offered to be there early to
help with any set up work.
The sun was bright and there was a warm breeze coming off
the water. As other architects arrived, I stopped to remind
myself what great potential this day had. Not only would we
all have a chance to truly support one another in this profession,
but we would also get a chance to see ourselves through the
eyes of children. All the same, though, I didn’t know
what to expect.
The buses from the Red Hook Community Center Beacon arrived
later than expected, and there was general confusion as to
which architect was to lead which group. I had received cancellations
from several architects up until the last minute. As a result,
we were forced to divvy up some of the kids into other groups.
Concurrent with that mayhem, the Parks department had just
hooked up a hose for our water supply. In the summer sun,
the piles that had been wet had quickly turned bone dry.
Each architect ended up with a team of six to seven children
and one camp counselor. As protocol for the event, we each
learned the names of our team members and began to discuss
the plan for our group sand castle. In my team, we envisioned
a scenario of a central castle structure surrounded by an
outer wall, four guard towers, two gates, and a moat. I drew
a simple floor plan for us all to agree upon, and then placed
markers in the sand for where each component was to be built.
We all selected a part to work on and then went to it.
Unwittingly, I had let go of how the day would turn out. There
had been clamoring all around for the single water hose and
for borrowing of other teams’ tools. Somehow, my concerns
faded from my mind. I became focused on the sand castle task
at hand with my group, and that was all.
The sky had started to threaten rain about an hour into our
workshop, but it brought only a brief passing shower. Not
enough to even faze us. In fact, it refreshed everyone and
helped with the water supply.
Thirty feet away, I heard a chorus of hoorays. It was Mike
Carlton’s group and they had finished their castle.
It was a tall catacomb-like structure connected to an adjacent
castle by a wood sky-bridge. “Way to go, Mike,”
I thought. It was then I had this warm, fuzzy realization:
here were 150 kids from an isolated, inner city neighborhood
working together like pistons in an engine. Not only that;
they were supporting what their friends were accomplishing
in other teams with complete awe and admiration, free of jealousy.
I wondered if the comradery among the architects (strangers
on many accounts) was trickling down to the kids, or if it
was the other way around. Either way, it was turning out to
be a more extraordinary experience than I had imagined.
Rob Abbot and Jennifer Zanger from the Red Hook Beacon allowed
each group a twenty-minute bout in the water to cool themselves
off. In what seemed like no time, the castles were completed,
and the day began to dwindle down. I made my rounds to see
what the other architectural teams had accomplished. There
were circular forts, large towers with inroads and stairs,
starfish-shaped structures, and castles of dynamic massings.
The smiles were abounding.
 ABC
News, UPN, the New York Sun and the Daily News were all on
hand to document the event. In a kind of finale celebration,
a number of kids took to burying each other in the sand, which
proved an ideal photo op for the photographer from The Sun.
I joined Sister Paulette LoMonaco, the executive director
for Good Shepherd Services, on the Boardwalk. Watching it
all from her vantage point, she expressed such elation and
thanks for helping to create such a memorable day for the
kids. I couldn’t quite express to her that I had merely
tapped into something in my profession that was already there.
 Rather,
I introduced her to Judy Sheng and Christy Repko, two young
architects who drove over two hours, from Pennsylvania, to
be there, no matter what threat of rain. Sister Paulette was
as moved by their devotion as I had been earlier that morning.
The kids washed off and boarded the buses back to Red Hook,
Brooklyn, while the architects slowly said goodbye to one
another. There was a quiet sense of love and happiness in
the air amongst all of us. A few of us grabbed a drink from
a bar along the Boardwalk and laughed about the day. As if
on cue, the skies opened and it poured. What a magical day
it had been.
Amazing what can happen when one realizes true power exists
in allowing everyone to shine.
written
by Mario Arbore |
