DANA MCKINNEY
Architect and Urban Planner at Gehry Partners, LLP
Masters in Architecture and Urban Planning at the Harvard Graduate School of Design (GSD)
Dana McKinney is an architect and urban planner who advances social justice and equity through design. Her academic and professional profile integrates wellness, policy, and economics into innovative design solutions to benefit even the most vulnerable populations including formerly incarcerated individuals, persons experiencing homelessness, and the elderly. Dana graduated from Princeton University with an A.B. in Architecture and completed her Masters in Architecture and Urban Planning at the Harvard Graduate School of Design (GSD). During her time at the GSD, Dana helped to establish the inaugural Black in Design Conference, Map the Gap, and the African American Design Nexus. Dana resides in Culver City, CA, where she works for Gehry Partners, LLP, and focuses her work on the LA River Master Plan, SELA Cultural Center, and other river-related projects.
Creating Spaces that Bring Pride through Urban Planning
What is your favorite dish?
Spinach and Mushroom Quiche.
What is your favorite song by a Black artist?
“Biking” Frank Ocean & Jay Z
Three additional facts about Dana:
I foster kittens, including bottle babies that require feeding (by bottle) every 2 hours
I was on a cooking show for kids during middle school
I LOVE recycled clothing and host a biannual clothing swap
What inspired you to study architecture?
I was inspired to study architecture by the environments that shaped me. I grew up in a very White, upper-middle class, small town in Connecticut, but visited my grandparents in Newark, New Jersey, a major city with a predominately Black and Latinx, low-income population. I would oscillate between suburbia, filled with McMansions, sprawling yards, and pristine streets and a city with dense housing poorly maintained sidewalks, and blight in every direction. The contrast of these environments fundamentally shaped my perception of the built environment. The contrasting backdrops of White and Black America inspired me to design a future where everyone is afforded a community that is secure and beautiful. Moreover, I wanted to create spaces that bring pride.
As I got older, I soon realized that architecture was not enough to right the wrongs of racial and social injustice in America. So I took it upon myself to also study fields that touch up these injustices: urban studies, sociology, policy, and history. Once I determined to pursue my graduate degree in architecture, it was clear that I wanted to supplement this education with urban planning as a way to better understand policy, law, economics, and community engagement.
The inequities I saw in Newark, continue to resonate with me today. Unfortunately, there is a pattern of inequity inbuilt space across different contexts, cities, and state lines. I remain inspired by the potential to rectify these inequities but hope to engage the work responsibly and contribute to conversations beyond the physical environment.
Name a Black architect/artist who most influenced you as an emerging professional?
My mentor, Marc G. Andre, has had the greatest impact on me. Marc, a Haitian-born architect, built a successful practice with little help and a lot of determination. He built his career on residential and commercial architecture, focusing his work within single geography and becoming an expert in that space. I worked for Marc’s office during my gap year between undergrad and grad school, and I learned more in that one year than I would have anywhere else. I was young, with very little knowledge of how to build, and he threw me in the deep end. He held me accountable in learning as much as possible about building crafts and creating warm, inviting spaces for the people who ultimately inhabit them.
Marc has been a mentor ever since, from helping me to select which graduate program I would attend, to determining which internships to take. While I am sure he would have wanted me to return to his practice, he always pushed me to go to pursue a path that would further my education as an architect far beyond the classroom. To this day, Marc serves as a sounding board for my career development and continues to challenge me in my professional pursuits. He is my architecture fairy godfather and I am so fortunate for his ongoing support.
Name a favorite project completed by a Black Designer. Why is it your favorite?
The Theme Building at LAX Airport, by Paul Revere Williams is by far my favorite project designed by a Black architect. This building is an icon for the airport, Los Angeles, and mid-century modern design. The building is odd, a big white, futuristic saucer that has descended upon LAX like an alien with sprawling legs. It is fantastical, yet elegantly executed. Its beautifully sculpted armatures look as if they would snap with a strong gust of wind, yet they stand 60 years strong. The building is a monument to aspiration, engineering, and design.
I particularly love the Theme Building, because I can boastfully tell others that a Black architect was in fact responsible for its design. Not just any Black architect, but an architect with one of the most prolific portfolios of work that shaped the very city this building serves as a gateway into. Although painted white, this building strikes Black pride. I am proud that a Black architect helped shape this monument that remains a focal point in LA’s landscape to this day. As much as I dread slugging through LAX’s traffic, there is always a spark of joy when I pass the Theme Building.
How does your culture affect your studies and the way you design?
I am not sure if I would call it culture, but I would say that my upbringing affected my experience studying architecture. In my family, one of our mottos is “never pay retail”. This stemmed from the resourcefulness of family members raised in post-Great Recession, Jim Crow South. I was brought up to be frugal, find great value at a low price, and save money. In school, I always tried to have as little waste as possible when making models, in which no inch of my laser bed went uncut, I only printed what was absolutely necessary, and I had a robust schedule participating in extracurricular events, that also happened to serve free dinner. Some may call this cheap, I prefer to think of myself as resourceful. I work within reasonable parameters, but never sacrifice quality.
Beyond school, my resourcefulness has bleed into my professional design work. I continue to think about affordability, for our clients building a space and occupants who will ultimately use it. I believe it is possible to create impeccable design while remaining cognizant of cost. You can build value through creative solutions and ensure quality design with careful calculation, research, and foresight.
Are there any organizations that helped you grow in architecture? How did they help you grow?
During my junior and senior years in high school, I participated in Architecture, Construction, and Engineering (ACE) Mentoring Program. Once a week, students interested in design would meet at a local architecture firm to work on a year-long design project. This organization gave me my first deep dive into architecture, taught my SketchUp, introduced other design fields, and helped me build my first portfolio. ACE also encouraged my ability to present with confidence. We regularly presented our work and we were taught to stand proud when sharing our ideas.
The other organization that helped me grow in architecture was the African American Student Union (AASU) at the GSD. The AASU was more than a student group, it was a family, one that provided tremendous support, advice, joy, and love. The organization was only in its infancy during my first year of grad school, in which its mission was to increase the school’s diversity. The group quickly focused on admissions, faculty hiring, curriculum, and event programming. However we soon expanded our time together to include dinners, TV nights, and field trips. The group was there to support each other academically, cheer one another on during every review, and lament in the shared experience of being one of the Black students in a predominately White institution. We found one another through a cause, but enmeshed ourselves into on another’s lives.
Years after graduation, the members of the AASU remain some of my closest friends. We continue to lean on one another personally and professionally. We can share our accomplishments, be vulnerable about our failures, and continue to support one another as we move forward in our careers. Moreover, they remain part of my family and it is awesome to grow together.
Tell us about your experience at the Harvard Graduate School of Design. What motivated you to help establish the inaugural Black in Design Conference, Map the Gap, and the African American Design?
Upon my first step into Gund Hall, the brutalist behemoth housing the GSD, it was immediately clear that I was among the few Black students in the school at large. With every passing class, I was almost always the only Black face in sight. I felt the presence of my own blackness and quickly realized others did to. Thankfully, I had the African American Student Union (AASU) to serve as a support through my time there. As an active member and officer of the AASU, I helped to establish the inaugural Black in Design Conference, because we felt that programming centered on the Black experience, Black design, and Black designers was missing from the school’s pedagogy. We wanted to create an event that uplifted Black voices in design, celebrated Black excellence, and brought diverse voices to a predominately White institution.
In addition to Black in Design, the AASU spearheaded Map the Gap, in response to the senseless murders of Black people at the hands of police officers. We started with a hackathon, to do geospatial mapping of incidents of police brutality, which expanded into an independent research course. We also did an installation within the walls of Gund Hall and publication about the research. It was critical that we could share this work with our peers and faculty, as well were haunted by theses injustices, while many sat indifferent.
Upon finishing my coursework and prior to graduating the GSD, I helped to establish the African American Design Nexus. The nexus grew out of Black in Design’s momentum, and sought to catalogue the work, writing, and lives of Black designers. We began assembling names, including historical Black designers to embed the research as part of the GSD’s library and archive. The school remains committed to this work and continues to showcase Black designers through the nexus’s website, podcast, and physical archives.
My journey at the GSD was far from easy. The school’s rigor was hard enough. I am proud that I was part of the AASU, which helped to unveil some of Black students’ discomfort within the school, increase our acceptance in its space, and propel an environment that celebrated our contributions.
As an architect and activist, how are you implementing design techniques to ensure social justice and equity solutions for all?
Social justice and equity are always at the forefront of my design work. When engaging a new project, one of the first things I ask myself is “who is most at risk here?” For publicly facing projects especially, there are almost always populations vulnerable to displacement, discrimination, and unequal access. Throughout modern history, we see a recurrence of spatial vulnerabilities for BIPOC communities, persons experiencing homelessness, undocumented immigrants, the elderly, and persons with disabilities. Some of these vulnerabilities are more apparent than others. To best unveil the true landscape of those most at risk, it is best practice to utilize community engagement.
As architects, we are not trained to do community outreach, nor is it frequently an offered service. However, I believe it is part of our fiduciary duty to our clients and the broader public’s welfare that we understand how our work impacts the community that surrounds it. Engagement is not always easy, it requires a lot of preparation, significant collaboration, and can result in heated conversation. By in large, as architects, we are not experts in the spaces we work, the community is. The community is best equipped to articulate their own concerns and desired design solutions. Without the community’s input, we are imposing ourselves and our ideals into their space, robbing the community of their agency and right to shape their built environment.
If you were able to talk to your younger self, what would you say?
If I could speak to my younger self, I would say, “Go to sleep!” Throughout undergrad and most of grad school I allowed myself to pull too many all-nighters. At the end of every semester I was run down and absolutely exhausted. This is one of the pitfalls of design education — there is a belief that you have to pour all of your energy into your work in search of perfection. All of these late nights tarnished my personal well-being and affected some of my closest relationships. My sleeping patterns were not unlike my classmates, we were all pushing too hard. Even when ready to log off, I harbored a sense of guilt for leaving the studio to go home at a reasonable hour.
When starting my urban planning program during my third year at the GSD, the department chair shared a graphic about the law of diminishing returns. She quickly discouraged all-nighters and noted that if you get less than 5 hours of sleep, you become less productive. I decided to follow her advice and get some sleep. In the weeks to come it was as if a lightbulb turned on. My brain worked faster, I could more clearly articulate my thoughts, and my work was all the better for it. From then forward, I prioritized my time, was more focused in my work, and was able to reestablish time for other priorities. Sleep and personal time are now part of my daily values. I would just hope that my younger self was alert enough to process and implement this advice.
What would you want to say to the next generation of aspiring Black women architects?
To the next generation of aspiring Black woman architects, do not let go of the things that interest you. Your interests, your value, and ideas are what make you unique. There are thousands of architects who have been molded to design similarly, leverage the same tired theories, and think the same. Your fascinations can bring something new to the table, and that will likely prove to be valuable throughout your career. As a Black woman architect, you will already stand out in this profession, but continue to push out with the strength of your knowledge and convictions.
I would also be remise not to say, take care of yourself. Architecture is a field filled with ego, attitude, and unfortunately, at times abusive behaviors. As a Black woman, you will likely be on the receiving end of these personality traits at some point in your education and career. But as a Black woman, you are also carrying the weight of systemic racism and sexism. It’s a lot. Take breaks, talk to your friends and family, do not forget to eat, sleep, and stay active. It is in these moments that you preserve yourself. You are going to be great. Don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise.