Some come to me and ask, "how old do you have to be to be a young preservationist"? I respond, "everyone who supports the next generation is a young preservationist." We don't discriminate on the basis of age or any other human characteristic. We have a commitment to intergenerational dialogue.
As much as I spend working with young people--students and young professionals--I also spend a lot of time talking with those older than me. They have fascinating stories to tell. It inspires me to keep their legacy alive, and it should inspire you, too.
The older generation remembers. They remember what it was like before desegregation, when war really did mean a cutback in the materials and energy we were allowed use, when recycling was just a matter of course, and before the car culture scattered our society to far-flung places and took down so many buildings.
Of course, we cannot preserve people, but we can preserve their memories, and we can preserve the buildings in which these memories took place. The built environment is the physical manifestation of our generational legacy. From the soaring cathedrals and monuments, to the modest homes of great people, it is our duty to keep their legacy alive.
There have been many people who have inspired my work, but three people in particular push me to preserve their legacy: my father, David Lewis, and Barbara Edwards Lee. All three have worked hard to pass along their knowledge and experiences to the next generation. Actually, there is a fourth person whom I'll mention last.
My father, Harry Holland, was an artist, and he gave me the ability to articulate and pursue my vision. I had the good fortune of having had a fond and respectful relationship with him until his death, in 1994, when I was 25 years old. His perseverance, vision, and ability to express his deepest emotions and dreams in art inspire me to do the same, even if I'm not an artist in the traditional sense.
My father was also an innovator. He created one of the first computer painting and drawing programs to be used in a university art program. His work has been recognized by the Siggraph art show and others in the field. But like any artist, he pursued his dream to simply create art as a way to satisfy his quest for amazement, which, to him, was the purpose and value of art.
He also taught me how to run (and, perhaps by extension, to love the post-run beer). It is through running that I have gotten to see many of the great sights--from the Grand Canyon, to the top of Mt. Elbert in Colorado, to the varied and diverse neighborhoods around our region--all on foot. Running also gives me the balance I need to think clearly and stay focused on those things that are important to me.
Architect David Lewis, who created Urban Design Associates Architects and CMU's Urban Lab Program, is also a visionary, and over the past several years that I have grown to know him, the more I believe that he is also trying to keep alive a tremendous legacy in the next generation. He is an artist, preservationist, and man of the world.
More than anything, David is a gifted storyteller. He will have you riveted to a long, drawn out story that fascinates as much as it entertains. And then at the end of the story, he'll have you doubled over in laughter with a funny punchline. His work is serious stuff; David has done much to create better ways to remake cities. But he is far from serious.
David has a humorous undercurrent that sometimes catches you off guard, but always seeks to make you have a good chuckle. It's good for the soul. Isn't that what we are here for--to make each other laugh and feel good about ourselves?
And there is Barbara Edwards Lee, the former National Secretary of the National Negro Opera Company, who lives in a nursing home in Clairton. Over the years, I have sought her out to gather stories of her work with Mary Cardwell Dawson (Barbara's aunt), who created the first black opera company in the nation right here in Pittsburgh. The NNOC went on to perform all across the nation to great acclaim before Madame Dawson succumbed to a heart attack in 1962.
But the memories survive, and so does the house where it all took place--7101 Apple Street in Homewood. Mrs. Lee didn't spend much time there. After she graduated from Taylor Allderdice High School (my alma mater, too!), she became discouraged with the segregated job market in the Pittsburgh area and moved with Madame Dawson to Washington, DC, in 1943. There, Barbara served as the National Secretary to the company. To think that it all started right there on Apple Street is amazing.
These stories need to be kept alive for new generations to appreciate and enjoy. There are lessons in the stories, unbelievable feats of courage, and funny punchlines. The people who continue to make them real after the human body has come to rest are the young people who keep them alive and save the places where these memories took place.
The fourth person who has influenced me over the years is Stanley Lowe, the former Housing Authority director, former vice president of the National Trust for Historic Preservation, and perpetual advocate for his neighborhood of Manchester, on Pittsburgh's North Side. He tirelessly and fearlessly pursued the dream of restoring his neighborhood back to what it once was, or could be, by saving as many old buildings as possible. He was also an important mentor to me, providing me encouragement and feedback on my career.
Just a few months ago, he hung in the background as the mayor and other dignitaries cut the ribbon on a new multi-million-dollar housing development in Manchester, where an electric company once stood. And to think that last summer, Stanley was fighting for his life in the emergency room, the victim of a senseless attack. The lesson is: don't try to keep down a man with vision and drive.
And isn't that the lesson from all four people I've mentioned, only one of which has passed away? All four had a dream, all four worked hard to achieve that dream, and all four never gave up on that dream.
Their memories persist with me and those whose lives they have touched. YPA's mission isn't just about involving young people for the sake of young people. But for the sake of everybody. After all, unless we connect the two disparate generations, we have no past, and no future. We only have the present.
Young people are valuable carriers of our legacy, and it is in them that we must invest.
