by Rosannah Harding (written at age 22)
[2011]
I was blessed at an early age to know what I wanted to do with my life: to become an architect. I was also blessed with parents who encouraged me to pursue it and showed me that it was not that far from my reach.
I remember the moment I realized that I wanted to be an architect. Since early childhood, I paid attention to my surroundings and was much more interested in the way the light felt through the window than staring at a chalkboard. But even so, I had an appreciation for math in terms of its physical nature. The point where art and science collide seemed a perfect fit for me. There was something about the notion of creating something from nothing—or rather creating something from a single idea. I was so excited about the possibility that something in my mind’s eye could become a reality.
In the early 2000s when the housing market was booming, my dad made a hobby of checking out model homes of new housing developments in central California. I would tag along and be amazed at the size and the scale of the spaces. As we were leaving the homes, I remember asking my mom, “Who is the person who decides where the rooms go?” She answered, “That would be an architect.” That was it. When I discovered that it was an actual job—getting to make beautiful drawings for a living and envision spaces that get built into realities—I knew that was my calling.
I must have been ten years old at the time. It’s amazing how God plants a seed in our hearts, and it grows into a dream and you know without a doubt it is what you are meant to do.
For most parents out there, when their eight-year-old says to them, “I want to be an astronaut (or whatever profession it might be) when I grow up,” they smile at their kid and say, “Oh, that’s nice,” and go about their day. My dad, on the other hand, would take it to heart. He would sign them up for the next Space Camp and introduce them to a friend of a friend who cleans rockets. My parents would do everything possible to show that the dream could be a reality.
Something that still resonates with me is the way my dad always encouraged us to set our goals and aim as high as we could. Don’t just settle for the middle. “Shoot for the stars,” he would say, “and maybe you’ll land on the moon.” I always took this to mean that if you aimed as high as you could and didn’t make it there, you still might end up somewhere pretty amazing. But if you set your sights too low, you may never reach your potential.
To this day, this mind-set still drives me. Someday I want to open my own architectural firm with my husband and maybe friends from college. Why be a draftsperson when you can be your own boss and make your own designs a reality?
Mom and Dad did not regard age as an excuse for immaturity. They gave us responsibilities to help us grow and taught us to reason like adults. Because we were treated like adults—and by this I mean with the expectation that we were capable of a higher level of accountability—we often rose to the occasion and surpassed what would be considered the “norm” for our age. I think in many ways this prepared us for real-world decision making and gave us the confidence to participate with students several years our senior.
People always say to my siblings and me that we are so mature for our age. I think this all goes back to building those invaluable skills of communication and measuring consequences. Parents are ultimately raising adults, independent human beings who are capable of living and being a light in this world.