I was never a Boy Scout, and I suspect my publicist wasn’t either. However, when the decision was made that I would be recording videos for Instagram and TikTok (which I keep forgetting I’m on), “Be Prepared” was definitely the motto we would adhere to. This means, for me, getting the questions and prompts well ahead of time so I could devise answers instead of talking off the cuff.

Yet even though I try to be prepared, a question or two will show up that I cannot answer. Usually, it’s because I don’t have an answer or don’t know the answer. Once, I couldn’t answer due to the AIA’s antitrust issues. But sometimes, I’ll skip a question because I know the right response will take far longer than the 30 seconds or so allotted for a post. And no one goes on IG or TikTok for that unless you’re cooking something.

For Pride this year, I was given one of those questions – more of a prompt, really: Highlight the contributions of LGBTQ architects in the field of architecture.

Oof! Where do I even begin?

The first stop, naturally, would be to talk about the queer architects in history and the work they contributed. After all, we are architects. When we speak about a famous architect from the past (and even some current ones), we speak about what they’ve designed and what has been built. We talk about what they have contributed to the community and to the built environment. We dole out awards and sing our praises to one another at conferences – a practice we’ve turned into an art form.

So for queer architects, why wouldn’t we do the same? Why wouldn’t I sit here and write about their contributions in the same manner? That’s how we measure worth, correct? And for queer architects in history – with maybe one exception (Phyllis Birkby – look her up!) – their work was all they contributed. Most were closeted gay men, even though many knew privately who they were. Everyone knew to keep their mouths shut if they wanted to keep working. Even Philip Johnson, who is often pointed to as a queer icon in architecture, waited until he was 87 before coming out.

For generations before and after me, no one was available to provide a guidepost for how to buck the profession and be out, proud, and successful in an historically conservative industry. We had no one we could look to and see how that was done. I landed my first job in architecture after Johnson came out and appeared on the cover of Out in 1996. But I’ve never heard of anyone looking to him as their gay architecture sherpa.

If we are going to highlight the contributions of queer architects in the field of architecture, we must begin by highlighting the queer architects working today. Not for their design work – although I won’t discredit anyone for what they contribute to their community – but for making themselves visible when others have not. For being willing to have the conversation around what being queer in architecture means and looks like. For building networks within architecture as well as without that continue to create and enhance visibility and connect more and more queer architects.

Although I’ve been at this for a while – as someone recently phrased it – the growth I’ve seen in the last year and a half has been astounding. Growth generated not by one or two individuals but by people and groups across the globe. Gem and the other co-founders of the QuEAN network. A.L. in NYC. Julia in Utah and Amy in California. All the leadership past and present of the AIA LGBTQIA+ Alliances. Jon and Sarah in Atlanta. Build Out Alliance, Pride by Design, and PRIDExASLA.

And that list can go on and on and on.

Most of us will probably never win a design award or an AIA Gold Medal or become a Starchitect like Johnson, Hadid, or Gehry. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t know that any of us would say no. However, I think most of us don’t see that as a goal. Instead, we hope to be what past queer architects were not.

Visible resources for younger architects who aren’t afraid to express their orientation or identity and need to know how to navigate within architecture. A means to connect and create a larger voice for queer architects globally. A network of like-minded individuals who aren’t afraid to share their thoughts about being queer in architecture and supporting those within the community.

So not such an easy answer. If I could have condensed that down to 30 seconds, I would have. I also would have been impressed. You would have been impressed. But sometimes you just need a bit more space, Boy Scout or not, and no matter how well prepared.