Last week the world “celebrated” another Quitter’s Day. A day when, despite all of our confidence, peak in motivation and undoubtful commitment, we normally do what is a very human thing to do. We give up. We abandon the majority of our New Year - New Me resolutions.
Plenty of studies have been conducted and many books written about the commonness of this paradoxical behavioral pattern so there is no need for me to write about it. Instead, I would share my experience that could probably be explained using the similar underlying principles.
Over the past month I have been in a search for an architect that would work on a renovation project that I just can’t wait to kick off. A tiny rural house built at the beginning of last century. Located in the street where I grew up, not far away from my parents’ house. House was renovated in the mid 80s and served as a memorial house for a couple of years. Although abandoned for ages, it still charms with its simplicity and modest traditional construction style.
It belonged to my late grandma. It is the house in which her parents settled and built their family. A place where she was born and raised. Now I want to renovate it and make it a house for an authentic rural treat.
I made an appointment with an architect that was recommended by a family friend. We met at the end of the last year to discuss my ideas, vision and to do initial briefing. Few minutes into the conversation, he recommended demolishing the house and building a new one that would look exactly the same.
“It would be way easier and cheaper.”
Foundations, statics, load-bearing capacity, isolation, installations, roof. I got it - easier for him to draw it from scratch and cheaper for me in terms of investments. And, of course, “we could reuse some of the materials so that it gets this anique touch.”
In the end we did not come to a deal. I was against demolition and he didn’t want to work on a project if it would remain a renovation instead of a new house. So I searched for another architect. This time opting for a practice that has experiences and a solid track record of renovation projects. We made an agreement and aligned on the next steps just this week. But they had a similar starting point.
“It would be cheaper.”
Luckily this one understood what I meant when I said: “But what if cheaper is not what the investor wants?”
Excited to finally kick it off and move further with the project, I can’t help but to ask the question that my mind has been entertained with over the past few weeks.
Why are we so quick to demolish and so slow to build?
I know that for others it may be just a bunch of old bricks, worn out materials and damp walls. And I know that I am biased but this house is so much more.
It is a house where young Ukrainian immigrants built their new lives and raised their family. Where they fought poverty, got their five kids, mourned two of them that left this world too early. It is the place where many memories my grandma told me about were actually created. Her mother sewing till late in the night by the light of a kerosene lamp, her father playing a violin, her brothers studying and playing tamburitza. It was a target of social tyranny during WWII but, despite all the struggles and losses, it was still a place of tiny joys that made my grandma smile.
It has been standing there for more than a century. It may not be in the best shape but it has proudly lived through the challenges of two world wars and a more recent civil war.
It may be easier and cheaper to demolish and rebuild it. And we could lay the bricks and all the other elements to make it look exactly the same. Maybe even I would have trouble telling the difference. But not all things could be rebuilt.
That is why nobody came up with an idea to rebuild the Roman Colosseum, Parthenon, Pyramids or any other monument.
I know what you may be thinking right now. “You can’t compare an old, unknown house with these magnificent pieces that witness our rich history.”
Why not? They were preserved because someone cared. Now they are still there and we know their stories because someone cared to tell them.
I also care. I care to preserve the house that represents the story of my origins. I care so much that I want to give my best and make sure it will remain there after I will be long gone.
And I still ask myself - why are we so quick to destroy when it takes generations to build it?
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