Choosing architecture school has been one of the best decisions in my life. The passion I have for creating a space that caters to every possible user where every nook and cranny is made with intention has driven me through long nights and ambitious projects. However, alongside this passion, I did not know there would be so many mental obstacles.
I quickly learned three things about architecture school that to this day help me gain perspective and look at the bigger picture.
The first thing I learned in architecture school was that it would be all-consuming. As soon as I felt I had a grasp of what studio culture was like, I knew that architecture would be more than just a field of study. Now, as a senior, I bring my sketchbook everywhere just in case I need to jot down an idea or quickly sketch something I saw. My camera roll is filled with pictures of architectural facades but also close-ups of weird door handles and intricate window frames. Architecture school is completely different in that it demands a level of immersion that can be both exciting and overwhelming. It’s not just about attending class and completing assignments but about fully engaging with the design process, which often means at the expense of sleep, social life, and even self-care.Â
The worst thing I’ve encountered in architecture school is imposter syndrome. I vividly remember my first two weeks in studio during my freshman year. After our instructors gave us a speech about how challenging the major was and that only those who were really talented and had a strong work ethic would get through it, they gave us an assignment of 100 sketches due two days later. At the time that seemed awful, but now I wish those were my assignments. The next week of studio came, and I noticed fewer and fewer classmates showed up–and I realized they had changed majors. This is where the roller coaster of imposter syndrome hit me. It kind of felt good knowing I can tough it out and even excel in architecture school after so many others couldn’t. I would come into class each day having progressed my design, only to be told one of two things: “Good job, keep going!” or “This isn’t what I’m looking for.” The fact that my grade depended on something so subjective, like whether my project looks good or not, or whether my instructor liked it or not, contributed to my ups and downs. Then at the end of the semester during pin-up, the final presentation in front of a jury, I find myself not only proud of my peers and their work, but also jealous as I continue the cycle of comparing myself and my projects to theirs. What’s worse is that I know comparison can be counterproductive, but I can’t help questioning my abilities and worth. Acknowledging these feelings has been crucial in combating the negative spiral that imposter syndrome can create.Â
To survive the rigorous demands of architecture school, I’ve also come to realize the importance of cultivating a certain level of confidence. This isn’t about arrogance or an inflated sense of self, but about believing in yourself and your ideas, even when the pressures are overwhelming. In a field where critique is an everyday reality, maintaining confidence is crucial for personal and academic growth. Building confidence requires some sort of vulnerability for me when it comes to articulating my thoughts and standing by my design vision.Â
While the challenges of architecture school can be intense, I’ve learned the importance of balance. Prioritizing mental health is crucial in this demanding environment. Whether it’s through seeking support from friends, engaging in mindfulness practices, or simply taking breaks to recharge, finding time away from architecture is essential for me in regards to long-term success. Despite the burnout and mental health challenges that come with architecture school, I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything. I’m doing something I truly love and I’m happy right where I am.