Black Females in Architecture (BFA) is a social enterprise supporting a membership of more than 450 Black women in built environment professions worldwide. Founded by architects Neba Sere, Selasi Setufe, and Akua Danso, the group advocates for diversity, race and gender equity across all sectors of the built environment, including architecture, urbanism, landscape, engineering, design, and construction.
We are happy to premiere their short film "A Voice for the 450 Plus" to a global audience for the first time since it was shown at the 2023 Venice Architecture Biennale. The film is a celebration of the ongoing contributions of Black women in the built environment fields, showing the world how they contribute to shaping the future of our cities.
The concept of "eyes on the street" is perhaps the most famous within architectural and urban literature when it comes to urban security. Jane Jacobs uses this expression to refer to people who - consciously or unconsciously - use public spaces or observe them from their homes, generating natural surveillance. A movement that, within our discipline, is encouraged both through quality public spaces and through the powerful relationship between the public and private created through building facades. Advocating for this daily control, Jacobs believes in a way of making architecture and cities that condemns excessive verticalization, reinforced by isolated buildings and single-use ones that deny contact with the street
In early 2018, spatial practitioner and Bartlett lecturer Neba Sere hosted a panel discussion at London's Architecture Foundation, where she was one of six young trustees. The topic: beginnings. How to go about them, move ahead, and transform them into something that lasts. Six years later, she looks back on the event as a beginning in itself: that day marked the creation of a WhatsApp group that would turn into Black Females in Architecture (BFA). BFA is now a 500-strong global membership network co-directed by Sere and fellow architects Selasi Setufe and Akua Danso.
BFA was initiated in response to the need for visibility of black women and female-identifying people with black heritage in architecture and the built environment. Last year, the group celebrated its fifth anniversary with the showing of a short film and a panel discussion at the Venice Architecture Biennale. Now, after putting in the groundwork of spreading information about the lack of diversity and equality in the industry and increasing their numbers, BFA is gearing up to drive physical change.
Image created in DALL-E by Lucas Reitz under the prompt: "an illustration of shopping mall sitting and waiting areas with couches and arm chair only occupied by white middle class men"
Space as a gender adjacency and sexuality's spatial dimension are recent themes in architecture. The case of the bathroom as a gender-regulating device is a constantly discussed topic at the intersections of queer theory in architecture. The discussion is even broader within LGBTQIA+ guidelines.
Teen girls are neither children nor adults, meaning they have specific needs and behaviours different from both these groups. Unfortunately, like many marginalized groups, these needs and behaviours have not been met or encouraged through our built environment as it has for others. For example, playgrounds are built for children to let off steam and sports courts that foster competition are targeted at men and teen boys.
Accordingly, not building public spaces with the needs of teen girls in mind allows other groups of people, predominantly men who already take up 80% of public spaces, to continue to dominate them. Making teen girls feel ten times less secure in public spaces. Not only does this absence affect their social, physical, and mental development, but it also complicates how they see where they belong in public spaces.
The queer crowd has always been present, finding ways to exist, gather, and celebrate. Although their visibility hasn't always been highlighted throughout history due to the consciousness of having to submit to heteronormative and strict mass normality in the past, doesn't mean they previously didn't have their own spaces to call their own. Queer spaces, past and present, have been categorized as strong, vibrant, vigorous, and worthy of occupying their own place in history, filling in as safe places for identifying individuals, places of social gathering, entertainment, and even offering community housing; therefore, there will always be a need for queer spaces.
“One of the first hits I got when I was googling about female architecture was a high-rise building in Australia, whose architects said that they had been inspired by Beyoncé’s curves when they built it,” exclaimed the Dutch architect Afaina de Jong in her last talk for TEDxAmsterdamWomen in 2021. “I mean, really? Her body? Beyoncé? Of course, she is amazing, but to translate her body literally in a building… Is that female architecture?”, she continued indignantly.
De Jong is the founder of AFARAI studio, where she works with an interdisciplinary methodology combining theory and research with design. She considers her studio as “a feminist practice that encourages change on social and spatial issues and that accommodates differences,” so Afaina is likely familiar with the concept of 'intersectionality'.
Architecture is human. So when I entered Cornell’s College of Architecture, Art, and Planning in 1973 and the entire faculty were as white and male as I was, it made no sense to me but reflected the end times of the full-on male dominance in my chosen profession. In that world, a few professors would often comment on how female students looked at juries, and some sexually victimized some students (none of whom were male).
With the construction sector getting back into full swing and major upcoming projects being announced, a larger workforce is getting ready to take on these colossal works. Accordingly, on-site presence and inspections are critical and essential to creating good architecture and constitute significant learning instances for architects or engineers looking to build expertise. But despite all these new endeavors that promise new technologies, a more sustainable future, and better ways of living, one old issue prevails the presence of gender discrimination on the construction site.
The National Building Museum has announced that Dolores Hayden, professor emerita of architecture, urbanism, and American studies at Yale University, is this year’s recipient of the Vincent Scully Prize. As an urban historian and architect, Dolores Hayden has focused throughout her career on the politics of place and the stereotypes of gender and race embedded in American-built environments. As the 24th recipient of the Vincent Scully Prize, Dolores Hayden joins esteemed past recipients, including Mabel O. Wilson, Elizabeth Meyer, Robert Campbell, and Inga Saffron.
Buenos Aires, Argentina. Image from sharptoyou. Image via Shutterstock
Understanding the diversity and plurality of people who inhabit and pass through cities on a daily basis, gender-responsive urban planning aims to incorporate all those identities, perspectives and activities that have been invisible for years. Understanding the complexities that surround cities and getting involved in the urban experiences of their inhabitants, public spaces turn out to be the scenario for the development of urban life and, as such, should bring together a series of guidelines and considerations in accordance with this new paradigm that act as planning tools, composing this network of spaces and contemplating all the users of the city.
“Creating an equitable city implies that every citizen has their needs met”, states architect Wanda Dalla Costa at a time when metropolises were noticing change. Architects and the public have started to acknowledge the gender-driven design of public spaces. Across the world, urban areas have been a site of discrimination and danger to the LGBTQ+ community. Gender is demonstrated in public zones that promote visibility and interaction between people. An arduous challenge lays upon architects and planners to design fair environments and equitable spaces.
"Growing up queer means experiencing the destabilizing absence of a broad and accessible queer history, most notably, in our case, in relation to spatial design". This account is what intrigued artist Adam Nathaniel Furman and architectural historian Joshua Mardell to bring together a community of contributors who bring new perspectives to the field of architecture and share stories of spaces that challenge cis-heteronormative morals, sheltering lives that seek to live their own truths. The result of this quest is a book titled Queer Spaces: An Atlas of LGBTQIA+ Places and Stories, which explores stories about distinct social, political, and geographical contexts within the community.
Buck Creek House in Big Sur by Anne Fougeron. Image Courtesy of Anne Fougeron
“Equity” is a moving target. We who create architecture want our devotion to have a true forum of objective Equity. But motivations are not outcomes. How we judge design inevitably carries the baggage of “Style” and that makes universal equity in design apprehension impossible.
Do you feel vulnerable as you walk through public spaces? If you are a woman, the odds of answering yes to this question are certainly greater since men are less likely to choose a longer route only to avoid a dark section of the street, or to ponder on what clothes to wear so that they do not feel exposed in public. In this sense, it seems almost obvious that cities designed by men should be perceived as threatening environments, rather than a place where women feel welcome. So, to imagine egalitarian cities, should we persist in a reflection of a gender-oriented approach?
https://www.archdaily.com/956585/how-can-gender-impact-the-future-of-urban-lifeCamilla Ghisleni e Victor Delaqua
This article was originally published on Common Edge as "Presenting Architecture as Progressive, but Practicing Through Exclusion."
For a profession that likes to congratulate itself about how well-meaning it is, and sees itself as liberal, diverse, open, and progressive, British architecture has a serious problem with diversity of pretty much every kind. It is dominated by people from well-off backgrounds. It trains a lot of brilliant female architects but doesn’t pay them as much as men, and loses many of them after 30 when they are not supported in balancing work and family life. Its ethnic makeup is very, very white, considering that it’s 2020. A supposed beacon of success is the acceptance of the LGBTQ community within the field, but as with women and those from and religious and ethnic minorities, stories of unprofessional comments, inappropriate jokes, and insidious forms of jovially “innocent” othering and the diminution of identity-specific concerns abound.
Every company across the country is talking about “diversity” and “inclusion”—but what actions are actually being taken to address the issues? In May, following the death of George Floyd and the rise of the Black Lives Matter movement, conversations were had, statements issued, and boxes checked. But achieving diversity and inclusion will involve addressing long-term, systemic issues that cannot be solved with a black square on Instagram or a carefully crafted statement from a PR department.
The first step toward diversity and inclusion is recognizing that talking about it is not enough, and the path to real change is going to be a process.
