VALUE YOUR STORY – Chronicle 15

I remember when I started architecture school, two incredibly talented classmates caught my attention. Daniel and Marina became my references.

I was never particularly talented at drawing, nor did I have much training. I knew my limitations, so I relied on learning and drawing inspiration from people like them to grow. Even today, I often say that when I draw or paint, I’m not an artist—I’m just someone who works hard.

Daniel and Marina had a pencil stroke I would’ve loved to master. Their technical drawing background from high school, combined with natural talent, made them promising seeds of a future generation of architects.

Daniel was born in Curitiba, a big city in Paraná (a Brazilian State). A true “city kid,” as they say there. His cultural background aligned closely with the rest of our class. He grew up surrounded by concrete, lived in condominiums, attended good schools, and was part of traditional social clubs.

Marina came from the countryside. The daughter of bean farmers, she grew up amidst hard work in the fields, farm animals, and barefoot days. Her family lived in a wooden house on a small farm. She discovered her gift for art by sketching on tiles with leftover charcoal from bonfires used to roast big cuts of meat on the ground. She moved to the city after being accepted into a technical drawing school in high school.

As we started working on technical drawings and projects, Daniel consistently stood out as one of the best in the class. Marina, on the other hand, often remained in the middle of the pack.

This puzzled me because I knew how capable they both were. So, I started paying closer attention to their projects.

Daniel thrived in a familiar environment. He proposed concrete projects, large free-span structures, and urban condominium designs. In landscape architecture, he planned parks, small plazas, and even dared to suggest improvements to Curitiba’s famous Botanical Garden.

Marina, aside from that bold move involving an iconic work by architect Abrão Assad, followed a similar approach. But she didn’t seem comfortable with it.

One day, during an architectural planning exercise—a project for a house for a couple with two 3-year-old children—I asked Marina what she was planning.

Without any excitement, she replied, “An apartment with two bedrooms,” then added with a touch of irony, “but what these kids really need is a wooden house with a chicken coop.”

That’s when I realized Marina was afraid to use her personal history as a foundation for her professional development. Instead, she used projects like Daniel’s as her starting point because they felt “safe.”

Her projects were missing the most valuable thing she had: her own story.

After some conversations with friends, we convinced Marina to show us, in one of her assignments, architectural solutions inspired by the countryside.

Suddenly, wooden walls and pillars appeared in her work. Brise-soleils gave way to lush trees with rope swings. Small kitchens full of appliances turned into large spaces with wood-burning stoves and big tables. Garages disappeared, replaced by wide verandas. Windows were emphasized, and doors came in different dimensions.

And every single project featured chickens, dogs, and pigs sketched into the garden.

She gave us a new perspective on architecture and, in doing so, found her own unique style.

She left me in the intermediate group and rose to the top of the class.

I never spoke to her again, but she often comes to mind when I reflect on the importance of embracing our own story.

Too often in life, we tend to undervalue who we are because of insecurity, fear, or shame. That feeling pushes us into the comfort zone of doing what everyone else does, trapped in the same cycle of anxiety.

Denying our story is like erasing what makes us unique and extraordinary.

Today, I shared Marina’s story because it’s an example from my past that comes to mind. But in our current world of social media, I see so many people building their futures based on someone else’s past.

Don’t make that mistake. Be the protagonist of your own life story.

Your story is beautiful.