When asked to reflect on the impact that Paul R. Williams has had on my career as an architect, I was initially hesitant. How do you quantify the importance of such an icon of the profession? I did not grow up in Los Angeles. I grew up in Seattle. I always wanted to be an architect. Architects and designers are in my family. Paul R Williams was not the first Black Architect that I was exposed to. I went to a majority architecture school in New York. PRW was not covered in our euro-centric architecture curriculum. I was only exposed to PRW through the National Organization of Minority Architects, while I was in college. Immediately upon learning about his works, I felt woefully behind. Since that time, including a move to Los Angeles, I have experienced some of his works in person, met some of his family members, and had conversations with colleagues who knew him directly. His icon status is undeniable, and should be amplified and celebrated exponentially, however, for me his legacy is always bundled up into a mix of four emotions.

The following is an Op-ed based on the conversations at the ULI-LA series on Paul R. Williams, entitled “Rediscovering an Icon: Part 2 - Impacts & Influences.”

Joy

Learning about the LAX Theme Building and the Beverly Hills Hotel is the mandatory minimum. Joy comes from knowing that he designed the Golden State Mutual Building on Western, the Baldwin Hills Mall, the Roosevelt Naval Base in Long Beach, the Howard University Architecture school, the St. Jude’s Hospital in Memphis, and homes for Lucille Ball, Frank Sinatra, and a host of other celebrities. I recently learned about one of his projects in Long Beach, a former bank on Fourth street and Pine Avenue. I have walked by this building on hundreds of occasions and did not know that it was done by PRW. Many of the exquisite homes contained in Janna Ireland’s book are still new revelations to me. I was recently asked to team up with another architect on an RFP response to a project at the LA County Courthouse that was design by PRW. His immense catalog of over 3,000 projects, from homes to commercial buildings to institutional projects, brings so much joy to me. To comprehend how one architect, regardless of color, could have been so prolific in his career is an astounding accomplishment in and of itself. For me, the power of architecture lies in its ability to shape the built environment and provide the context in which all of our society exists. As an architect, I can only dream of having a career with so many built projects to leave as a legacy when I am done.

Inspiration

The obstacles that were overcome by PRW inspire me on my own career journey. Imagine sitting in the architecture school at USC in 1919 as the only Black student. Imagine being a licensed architect in 1921 and an AIA member in 1923. All of us can attest to the challenges that come with being an architect: to compete in studio, graduate, get licensed, and mature as a designer and a leader. Add on to that the reality of being an African American navigating your way through a profession that is predominately white and male, makes the degree of difficulty that much higher.  PRW’s example serves as a model of success to show that “it” can be done and at a high level of excellence. His story serves as a guide-post for me to never get discouraged and not lose my passion for creating buildings and spaces. I imagine that no hardship that I have experienced in my journey can compare to obstacles faced by PRW. I am standing on his shoulders and his sacrifices so that I can even be here today. The hurdles placed before PRW must have been gigantic in comparison to what we have to deal with today, yet there are still many similarities within the architecture profession. Even today, many Black architects can still relate to the feeling of being the “only one” in their design studios, at their firms, or when meeting with clients. While so much has changed since PRW started his practice, so many things remain the same.

Frustration

In every story about PRW, the same anecdotes about his persona are covered, including how he could draw upside down to make his white clients feel at ease or how he would hold his hands behind his back at a construction site to appear less threatening. For me, these all carry the same “dog whistle” effect as “he speaks so well” when referencing any educated person of color. A century ago, as it still is today, the concept of fearing a Black man, even one as educated, humble, intelligent, and graceful as PRW has not gone away. PRW said it best in his 1937 op-ed I am a Negro for The American Magazine, “There was nothing to warn me that coveted opportunities would be denied me because my face was Black. I discovered the color line when I went out, as a schoolboy, to find a much-needed job. I was turned away by would-be employers who, to my certain knowledge, needed help.” This same story could be told time and time again from 1937 to today, with the names changed to many who look like me. In the century that has passed since PRW started practicing architecture and in the 40 years since his passing, many of these ills still exist in society and in the profession of architecture that have led to minimal participation of people of color in designing building and creating our built environment.

Sadness

Sadness comes from the knowledge that PRW received his license in 1921 and became the first Black AIA member in 1923 and we are 100 years later and there are still less than 2,400 black architects in America. To know that we have made so little progress in diversifying the profession of architecture and that his greatness has not led to more inspiration for people of color to aspire to become architects is a stain on us all. To quote PRW’s high school guidance counselor “Who ever heard of a Negro architect?”. Those words may not be used in 2021, but that is still a challenge that we struggle with today. We need to increase the exposure of the profession to African American youth to show them it can be a viable career. We need to show them that designing buildings and creating architecture is a profession on par with being a doctor or a lawyer. Sadness comes from seeing PRW receive his AIA Gold medal in 2017 posthumously, and wondering why it took the AIA 37 years after his death for such recognition? What criteria or additional proof could have resulted in any delay in recognizing such an icon. We must do a better job of giving our legends their flowers while they are still here to smell them. Whether it is PRW or Phil Freelon, we should never wait to celebrate the accomplishments of our Black Architects, especially when that light can shine so bright to impact future generations of architects to come.

Conclusion

An architect as iconic as PRW should not have such a complex legacy, based solely on the merits of his work and his character as a man. The complexity exists because of his race and America’s own struggle with race, discrimination, racial equity, and racial justice for people of all colors outside of the majority. That complexity exists because someone with such an immaculate pedigree as PRW has historically been ignored by the Eurocentric pedagogy taught in architecture schools, relegating people to discover him on their own. That complexity exists because as a Black Architect, I am expected to be an expert on every other black architect that ever lived to “teach” my white counterparts about the true diversity of the profession. That complexity exists, because at the same time we laud PRW with well-deserved accolades for his professional achievements, the profession turns a blind eye to the lack of progress that has been made towards increasing its diversity. PRW should not exist as a “unicorn” to be admired, but rather one stone in the lineage of great Black architects from Benjamin Banneker, Robert Taylor, Moses McKissak, Beverly Loraine Greene, J. Max Bond, Norma Sklarek, Phil Freelon, to Curtis Moody that will continue forward in the future. PRW is unquestionably an icon, but for me, the complexity in reflecting on his impact will always be inescapable.