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<strong>2013</strong><br />

MAY<br />

01<br />

“and”<br />

contents<br />

01<br />

In this Issue<br />

by Tasoulla Hadjiyanni, Editor<br />

02<br />

The Making of a Person-<br />

Environment Scholar: Qualitative<br />

<strong>Research</strong> in the Social Use of<br />

Space by Galen Cranz<br />

05<br />

Dreamwork: Engaged Learning,<br />

Practice and <strong>Research</strong><br />

by Paula Horrigan<br />

07<br />

Resilience Engineering: A Better<br />

Way of Approaching Patient<br />

Safety by Sheila Bosch &<br />

Robert Wears<br />

09<br />

Book Review: Why Loiter Women<br />

and Risk on Mumbai Streets<br />

by Kush Patel<br />

11<br />

News from EDRA<br />

A publication from the <strong>Environmental</strong> <strong>Design</strong> <strong>Research</strong> <strong>Association</strong><br />

publication from the <strong>Environmental</strong> <strong>Design</strong> <strong>Research</strong> <strong>Association</strong><br />

In this issue BY TASOULLA HADJIYANNI<br />

Ancient wisdom cannot be taken lightly; it is founded on<br />

years and years of confirmation through lived experience.<br />

One of the sayings I grew up hearing goes like this:<br />

“anthropos ine o topos kai o topos gerimos,” which can<br />

be translated into “a human is a place and the place is<br />

neglected.” Little did I know that I would end up joining a<br />

group of scholars and practitioners whose passion in life<br />

lies in unraveling how the relationship between humans<br />

and places is constructed and what that means to how<br />

people around the world live their lives. The way the<br />

two clauses of the saying are connected however—the<br />

“and”—continued to preoccupy my mind and feel puzzling<br />

to me. What does the “and” stand for What is it trying to<br />

capture Why isn’t it simply an “or” When and how does<br />

the “and” take effect And, what are the implications of the<br />

“and” for us scholars of people-environment studies<br />

The four pieces in this issue of EDRA Connections shed<br />

light on this conundrum and help expose the defining<br />

impacts of the “and”; its power to determine whether a<br />

place thrives or becomes soulless at the hands of humans.<br />

As it turns out, the “and” is about complications, it is about<br />

problematizing the person-place interactions, pulling to the<br />

surface all that needs to be considered in the process of<br />

understanding and planning places.<br />

Galen Cranz unfolds her life’s narrative for us to get a<br />

glimpse into the experiences that shape how a person<br />

can be transformed into a scholar who is immersed in<br />

questions of place. To Galen, the human=place equation<br />

is expanded among others to include scales that range<br />

from the park to a single piece of furniture and how each<br />

relates to people of diverse backgrounds and abilities, all<br />

indispensable parts of the “and.” Paula Horrigan further<br />

complicates the elements that fall into the human=place<br />

ONE OF THE SAYINGS I GREW UP HEARING<br />

GOES LIKE THIS: “ANTHROPOS INE O TOPOS<br />

KAI O TOPOS GERIMOS,” WHICH CAN BE<br />

TRANSLATED INTO “A HUMAN IS A PLACE<br />

AND THE PLACE IS NEGLECTED.”<br />

relationship. In her teaching, the “and” are the calls<br />

she makes for investing in understanding the plurality<br />

embedded in studying places and the many ways by which<br />

relationships with places are forged and sustained. Sheila<br />

Bosch and Robert Wears delve deeper into the implications<br />

of the “and” in reducing harm, putting in place an approach<br />

for developing systems that can handle expected and<br />

unexpected challenges. Closing the issue is Kush Patel’s<br />

review of the book Why Loiter which centers the “and”<br />

not on the presence of humans but their absence in placemaking<br />

and claiming of public space.<br />

As EDRA44Providence rapidly approaches, we look<br />

forward to continuing these dialogues in person. The<br />

conference’s focus on “Healthy + Healing Places” will allow<br />

us to position the story of the “and” within discourses<br />

on physical, mental, and emotional well-being. Ancient<br />

wisdom, it appears, helps chart new trajectories and<br />

the “and” is simply the beginning to a long and exciting<br />

journey.<br />

Tasoulla Hadjiyanni, Ph.D. is an Associate Professor<br />

in the Interior <strong>Design</strong> program of the University of<br />

Minnesota, a member of the 2012-<strong>2013</strong> EDRA Board<br />

of Directors, and editor of EDRA Connections. She<br />

can be reached at thadjiya@umn.edu.


The making of a person-environment<br />

scholar: qualitative research in the<br />

social use of space BY GALEN CRANZ<br />

<strong>2013</strong><br />

MAY<br />

02<br />

As a sociologist teaching the social and cultural basis of<br />

architecture and urbanism, I have forged a qualitative<br />

approach to the study of the social use of space. I<br />

have synthesized sociology, anthropology, architectural<br />

and spatial analysis, communication theory, material<br />

culture, and visual studies. I use history but not to write<br />

historical sociology or even architectural history. Instead,<br />

like Foucault’s genealogical approach, I use history to<br />

understand contemporaneous situations. Moreover, I<br />

am motivated by the reform impulses of a designer who<br />

wants to help define and create the next step for the<br />

future. Here, I offer a personal narrative account of the<br />

various strands in my major works, The Politics of Park<br />

<strong>Design</strong> (1982), The Chair (1998), and my current work on<br />

Taste and <strong>Design</strong> in the context of how I came to be a<br />

person-environment scholar.<br />

DISCOVERING THE SOCIAL USE OF SPACE<br />

In graduate school in sociology at the University of Chicago<br />

(1966-71), I reasoned that if space is a<br />

component of social life, it could be<br />

studied sociologically. Like money and<br />

power, it is distributed differentially.<br />

And, I conjectured, architects don’t<br />

build things, as much as they make<br />

spaces. Professor Gerald Suttles<br />

specialized in anthropological<br />

approaches to sociology, and he was<br />

willing to take on my invented field,<br />

the social use of space. His book,<br />

The Social Order of the Slum (1968),<br />

became a model for how to integrate<br />

many techniques of observation,<br />

interviewing, and even statistical<br />

analysis.<br />

The classics in sociology assume, but leave out, any<br />

explicit discussion of space. The founding theorists, Weber,<br />

Durkheim, Marx, and the more recent ones like Parsons,<br />

Shils, or Merton, did not talk about space or place even<br />

though actions presumably occurred in physical settings.<br />

Because these theorists were generalizing beyond<br />

particular places, their lack of attention to physical context<br />

was understandable. However, the classics in sociological<br />

field studies make a point of attending to the local and<br />

the particular, so why were the physical settings so thinly<br />

described Whyte’s classic Street Corner Society (1946)<br />

even has a place type in the title, but little description of<br />

those street corners or any other setting can be found in<br />

that study. Tally’s Corner (1967) is also surprisingly devoid<br />

of physical variables in the analysis of how chronically<br />

underemployed men manage their lives.<br />

Rather than, in sociology proper I found guidance in<br />

two related books by the anthropologist Edward T. Hall<br />

that have been recurrently useful to me as a student,<br />

researcher, and teacher. In The Silent<br />

Language (1959) and The Hidden<br />

Dimension (1966), Hall has provided<br />

the broadest theory to account for<br />

the relationship between material and<br />

nonmaterial culture--communication<br />

theory. It is profound, simple, and<br />

broadly applicable. Communication<br />

theory best describes the relationship<br />

between environment and behavior.<br />

Moreover, it sidesteps the problem of<br />

environmental determinism and the<br />

problem of the direction of causality.<br />

SYMBOLIC INTERACTIONISM<br />

At Chicago, I read George Herbert<br />

Mead’s Mind, Self and Society (1934),<br />

I AM MOTIVATED BY THE REFORM<br />

IMPULSES OF A DESIGNER WHO WANTS<br />

TO HELP DEFINE AND CREATE THE NEXT<br />

STEP FOR THE FUTURE.<br />

and my research on the history of urban parks in America is<br />

where I first saw the link between symbolic interactionism<br />

and the environment. Frederick Law Olmsted described<br />

how an attractive and respectable public setting would<br />

attract women, and therefore be a place where a man<br />

could take his wife and children and see himself as others<br />

saw him--as the head of the household. Seeing himself in<br />

others’ eyes he would resolve not to spend his income in<br />

the saloon or brothel, but rather on his family (Cranz, 1982).<br />

In my career, I have unconsciously enfolded symbolic<br />

interactionism into the communication model. Decades<br />

later, when I reviewed Smith & Bugni’s (2006) “Symbolic<br />

Interaction Theory and Architecture” I was surprised that I<br />

had not recognized symbolic interactionism as the obvious<br />

mid-range theory between general communication theory<br />

and the concerns of architecture. The symbolic aspect<br />

nicely covers many of architecture’s artistic and symbolic<br />

concerns, and interactionism emphasizes the two-way<br />

influences between the physical environment and human<br />

feeling and behavior. In dealing with an object or place we<br />

are actually internalizing the intentions of the designer and<br />

having a conversation with him or her whether we accept<br />

its use as intended or change its use. Latour (2005) has<br />

recently gained traction making this same point about the<br />

social being imbedded in objects.<br />

PARK SCHOLARSHIP<br />

After a summer job to design playgrounds in 1969, I<br />

became particularly intrigued with the design of parks and<br />

continued on p. 3<br />

A publication from the <strong>Environmental</strong> <strong>Design</strong> <strong>Research</strong> <strong>Association</strong>


The making of a person-environment scholar:<br />

03<br />

<strong>2013</strong><br />

qualitative research in the social use of space MAY<br />

(CONTINUED)<br />

at the suggestion of my advisor, focused my dissertation<br />

on park design and usage. I turned to history in order<br />

to understand the initial goals of those who established<br />

parks. If the present-day advocates were inarticulate, I<br />

reasoned that at the beginning, when people have to<br />

overcome inertia, the reasons must have been made<br />

explicit. Indeed! I found an elaborate social theory about<br />

the purpose of the first pleasure grounds. To my surprise,<br />

I discovered not just one constellation of ideas, but a<br />

generation later another distinctive constellation, and yet<br />

another, and another. I did not intend to become a historian<br />

(even though I read hundreds of years of annual reports,<br />

meeting minutes, newspaper articles), but rather to use<br />

the past to understand the present. Because I was trained<br />

to do fieldwork, I brought an ethnographer’s sensitivity to<br />

my examination of archival documents. This meant that<br />

I paid close attention to how people used language. For<br />

example, the term “pleasure” was used differently than<br />

we use it today, and eventually I began to see that it was<br />

viewed as a desirable midpoint on a continuum between<br />

“mere amusement,” at one extreme, and pedantic<br />

“instruction,” at the other.<br />

I included women’s roles as users and suppliers of park<br />

services in my analysis of park history. While in graduate<br />

school, I taught “Women and the City” at Columbia<br />

College, Chicago, probably the first course anywhere<br />

on gender and the environment. To this day, I routinely<br />

incorporate gender considerations into my scholarship,<br />

including The Chair (1998).<br />

As a Kellogg National Fellow (1981-84), I went to film<br />

school at NYU for the academic year 1982-83 in order<br />

to consider film as a medium for environmental design<br />

education. I felt that I could bring the same sensibilities<br />

to images as to words, that is look for the meaning in the<br />

relationships among things, as I had learned to do with<br />

semantic ethnography. In The Politics of Park <strong>Design</strong><br />

(1982), I used photographs as evidence rather than<br />

illustration.<br />

A publication from the <strong>Environmental</strong> <strong>Design</strong> <strong>Research</strong> <strong>Association</strong><br />

BODY CONSCIOUS DESIGN<br />

In the late 70s, I had started taking private<br />

lessons in the Alexander Technique, an<br />

educational system that teaches high<br />

quality movement for everyday life. It<br />

helped me deal with severe scoliosis, and<br />

I decided to enroll in a training program.<br />

My commitment to this educational<br />

practice was understandably passionate,<br />

but how was I to continue teaching fulltime<br />

and studying four mornings a week<br />

for three years I decided to find a topic of space.<br />

where the body, about which I was<br />

to learn a lot, came together with the<br />

environment, the focus of my professional and intellectual<br />

life. Clothes, tools, and furniture immediately came to<br />

mind, but obviously furniture was closer to architecture<br />

and, moreover, many prominent architects have tried<br />

their hands at designing chairs. So in the academic year<br />

1984/85, my graduate seminar explored chair design. We<br />

looked at social history, style and art history, ergonomics,<br />

manufacturing, and storage. We learned a lot, but I<br />

left feeling frustrated by the contradictions within the<br />

ergonomic literature.<br />

That summer, I was visiting a friend in England who had<br />

taught English in Africa. While she showed me photographs<br />

of the people with whom she had lived, I was evaluating<br />

the pictures from an Alexander point of view, looking at<br />

posture, overall coordination, and physical development.<br />

Most of them looked like people in industrialized societies,<br />

slightly stooped and rounded with necks cantilevered a<br />

little in front of their spines. Two men stood out for the<br />

perfection of their carriage and form. My friend said, “that’s<br />

funny, the two you have picked out grew up in villages<br />

without missionary schools, so they never sat in tables<br />

and chairs.” Right then and there, a hypothesis was born!<br />

It is not good chair design or bad chair design that is the<br />

issue, but rather something about chairs themselves that<br />

Not only do poor people<br />

have less money and<br />

lower levels of education<br />

than middle and upper<br />

class people, but also they<br />

use, regulate, control, and<br />

decorate smaller amounts<br />

creates physical problems for chair sitting<br />

people. I returned to the ergonomic and<br />

medical rehabilitation literature with<br />

new eyes, collecting evidence about<br />

the problems created by chair sitting.<br />

The evidence was everywhere, but no<br />

one had seen it because of the blinding<br />

cultural assumption that chair sitting is<br />

natural and inevitable.<br />

In thinking about the likelihood of<br />

changing something so fundamental as<br />

the practice of chair sitting, once again<br />

Edward T. Hall’s idea about three different<br />

levels of culture—formal, informal, and<br />

rational/technical—proved useful to me. Because the<br />

chair is part of our unconscious pattern of living (formal<br />

culture), changing it will require profound efforts. Several<br />

of us (Cranz, 1998; Franck & Lepori, 2000) have introduced<br />

the body itself as an important component of the person<br />

in person-environment relations. This was an important<br />

corrective to the focus on the person as a psychological and<br />

social entity. Note that we have not argued that the body<br />

is separate from psychology or social life. To the contrary,<br />

in The Chair, I have demonstrated how the body is shaped<br />

by our experiences in culture, society, and groups. I view<br />

this contribution as only a first step; my aspiration for<br />

widespread cultural change starts with my book and the<br />

graduate seminar I teach on Body Conscious <strong>Design</strong>, and<br />

I would like to expand to develop a Certification Program<br />

in Body Conscious <strong>Design</strong> at Berkeley or elsewhere, and<br />

possibly organize conferences.<br />

CLASS AND ENVIRONMENT<br />

Not only do poor people have less money and lower<br />

levels of education than middle and upper class people,<br />

but also they use, regulate, control, and decorate smaller<br />

amounts of space. Thus, class is reinforced both spatially<br />

and physically.<br />

continued on p. 4


The making of a person-environment scholar:<br />

04<br />

<strong>2013</strong><br />

qualitative research in the social use of space MAY<br />

(CONTINUED)<br />

I am addressing class indirectly in my next book Taste and <strong>Design</strong>: Communicating Utility, Meaning, and Aesthetics. I<br />

acknowledge that taste is grounded in class codes as most sociologists argue, but I also see how it transcends class.<br />

Looking at taste as a process of assembly rather than a quality of individuals or things helps resolve the paradox that<br />

taste both transcends and affirms class position.<br />

EDRA<br />

I did not learn about EDRA until 1971; imagine my amazement at the synchronicity of so many people having invented<br />

this field for themselves all over the globe in 1969! Independently, people will respond to the same social-cultural<br />

forces and come up with similar solutions to perceived needs. The organization was and remains important to me as a<br />

confirmation that understanding society, cities, and buildings through the medium of space and materiality is valuable<br />

and viable. Having colleagues who share this perspective is invaluable from the point of view of career advancement,<br />

but feeling connected to others is psychologically equally significant. I get useful feedback from colleagues at EDRA<br />

conferences when I present the first version of my papers and book topics. Much work in EDRA is quantitative, but<br />

there has been plenty of room for qualitative analysis as well. EDRA colleagues have acknowledged my park design<br />

awards more than my local colleagues in architecture and landscape. I am proud that The Chair received the EDRA<br />

Achievement Award for 2004. A friend from graduate school wrote when I received the EDRA Career Award in 2011<br />

that he recalled how thrilled and relieved I was to have found colleagues when I attended my first EDRA in Pittsburgh<br />

in 1971. I remain grateful to this organization for bringing us together through internet, networks, conferences,<br />

friendships, shared projects -- across generations, across disciplines, across geography.<br />

References<br />

Cranz, G. (1982). The politics of park design: A history of urban parks in America. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.<br />

Cranz, G. (1998). The chair: Rethinking culture, body and design. New York: WW Norton.<br />

Cranz, G. & Boland, M. (2004). Defining the sustainable park. Landscape Journal, 102-120.<br />

Franck, K & Lepori, B. (2000). Architecture from the inside out. Hoboken, NJ: Wiley.<br />

Hall, E. (1966). The hidden dimension. New York: Doubleday.<br />

Hall, E. (1959). The silent language. New York: Doubleday.<br />

LaTour, B. (2005). Reassembling the social: An introduction to actor-network-theory. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press.<br />

Liebow, E. (1967, 2003). Tally’s corner – A study of Negro streetcorner men. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, Inc.<br />

Mead, G. H. (1934). Mind, self and society. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.<br />

Smith, R. W. & Bugni, V. (2006). Symbolic interaction theory and architecture. Symbolic Interaction, 29(2), 123–155.<br />

Suttles, G. (1968). The social order of the slum. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.<br />

Whyte, W. F. (1946). Street corner society – The social structure of an Italian slum. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.<br />

Galen Cranz, Ph.D. is a Professor at the University of California, Berkeley, and the recipient of the<br />

2011 EDRA Career Award. She can be reached at galen@berkeley.edu.<br />

A publication from the <strong>Environmental</strong> <strong>Design</strong> <strong>Research</strong> <strong>Association</strong>


Dreamwork: engaged learning,<br />

practice and research BY PAULA HORRIGAN<br />

<strong>2013</strong><br />

MAY<br />

05<br />

Twenty years ago, when taking an unexpected phone call<br />

from an Iroquois Seneca Chief, I felt the world stop for a<br />

moment. He was calling and asking me to take caution<br />

and care in undertaking a project with my students, for a<br />

local school, that connected in theme and content, to the<br />

area’s Native American history. In that moment, I realized<br />

that landscape’s groundwork, the one I’d been taught and<br />

learned, needed questioning. And in that moment, for me,<br />

a new groundwork for landscape making and education<br />

began to take shape and form.<br />

Fast forward to a year ago, when I joined my landscape<br />

architecture students at a community meeting in Utica,<br />

N.Y.’s Cornhill neighborhood, where they were working<br />

closely with a local group designing a park. During one of<br />

our participatory interludes, I leaned in to listen closely to<br />

a leader of the black community as he spoke, “Paula, you<br />

know, I’m not inclined to write things down…my people<br />

tell stories.” He was smiling through his words, but deep<br />

down I knew he was sending an important message to<br />

both me and my zealous student group, which was asking<br />

Rust to Green Capstone students collaborating with Cornhill<br />

neighborhood residents on the design of Kemble Park in Utica, N.Y.<br />

(February 2012).<br />

A publication from the <strong>Environmental</strong> <strong>Design</strong> <strong>Research</strong> <strong>Association</strong><br />

folks to provide them with a written record of take-away<br />

information generated at the meeting.<br />

Moments like these are vivid reminders of the thickly<br />

textured complexity of the communities and places<br />

where designers find themselves. <strong>Design</strong> processes<br />

catapult us into the midst of others’ lives and cause us<br />

to ponder, consider, conceive, and often rethink the roles<br />

we play and the approaches and directions we take. In<br />

Utica, it meant that students would go on to conduct and<br />

transcribe longer one-on-one narrative interviews with<br />

individuals whose voices and stories we needed to hear.<br />

Frequent reflections, held in real-time dialogue sessions or<br />

chronicled in written critical incident journal entries, served<br />

to deepen and inform the students’ design process, adjust<br />

their behaviors and illuminate the lessons and learning<br />

emerging in the singular community context.<br />

As the design took shape, students adjusted their<br />

designs for a “natural playscape” away from a “wild” mazelike<br />

setting with tall growing grasses. This original proposal<br />

raised fears about safety among the young mothers with<br />

whom they shared it. Tall grasses might block the view of<br />

their small children at play and create hiding spots for what<br />

they referred to as the crazy and fast “hood squirrels,” the<br />

ones “that jump you!” (Students’ Reflection Journals,<br />

2012). This reference was met by looks of complete<br />

bewilderment from the students, but was soon followed by<br />

certain understanding. Such conversations opened them<br />

to new awareness and spurred them to respond. Other<br />

conversations directed them to seek opportunities for<br />

park activities and sports, including handball and baseball,<br />

reflecting the preferences and desires of residents living in<br />

Utica’s most culturally diverse neighborhood.<br />

Adapting their design processes and outcomes by<br />

taking the time to truly listen and connect to community<br />

members are important life lessons for students embarking<br />

on future lives in community-based practice, teaching, and<br />

scholarship.<br />

As a student<br />

once reflected<br />

at the end of a<br />

semester-long<br />

community<br />

design studio,<br />

“everyone has<br />

something to<br />

teach you….<br />

although you<br />

might be the<br />

one with the Ivy<br />

League degree,<br />

in the real world<br />

Rust to Green Capstone students Eloise<br />

Leveau and Jack Grieshober presenting<br />

concepts for Oneida Square Arts District at<br />

meeting in Utica, N.Y. (March <strong>2013</strong>).<br />

you should leave your title, degree, and egos at the door<br />

and listen and consume knowledge from those who might<br />

have other experiences to speak of” (Students’ Reflection<br />

Journals, 2003).<br />

THE PROMISE OF SERVICE-LEARNING<br />

Scholars Jacoby and Mustascio revel in the promise<br />

of service-learning by quoting a student proclaiming,<br />

“Service-learning takes you to the edge of what you know<br />

and who you are.” But, in the next breath, they caution<br />

us to remember that service-learning can also fall short in<br />

its contributions to those involved when students are illprepared<br />

and community partnerships are “…dominated<br />

by the power and privilege that institutions of higher<br />

education possess” (Jacoby & Mustacio, 2010, p.v). In order<br />

to attain the promise, these limitations must be carefully<br />

addressed to ensure that the inherent gaps between<br />

academic and community arenas do not compromise<br />

service-learning engagements. Landscape architecture<br />

embodies knowledge and ways of knowing upon which<br />

continued on p. 6


Dreamwork: engaged learning, practice and<br />

06<br />

<strong>2013</strong><br />

MAY<br />

research (CONTINUED)<br />

designers rely for interpreting<br />

and creating landscapes. This<br />

knowledge is instrumental in the<br />

design processes and landscapes<br />

we produce, value, and represent<br />

and can have both perilous and<br />

positive consequences on the<br />

communities and places we<br />

shape and impact. Don Mitchell<br />

alerts us to the fact that the<br />

work of landscape—its making<br />

and representation—is deeply<br />

rooted in the “dreamwork of<br />

empire,” and the corresponding<br />

groundwork that fosters empire<br />

building (Mitchell, 2003). He<br />

beckons us to critically examine and expand our focus and<br />

attention towards what he calls landscape’s fundamental<br />

groundwork, which is deeply rooted in the needs and<br />

wants of its inhabitants. The groundwork of socially and<br />

environmentally “just” landscapes is the knowledge that<br />

is needed to create, steward, and foster such landscapes<br />

so they truly become “dreamworks.”<br />

For me, service-learning and engaged teaching and<br />

scholarship are fundamental to the groundwork of<br />

making, studying, and valuing landscapes and places<br />

that enable and foster more equitable, healthy, and<br />

meaningful relationships between people and place. Such<br />

a groundwork is essential to the task of seeing, conceiving<br />

,and realizing the dreamwork of more socially and<br />

environmentally equitable and just landscapes. Through<br />

service-learning and engaged teaching and learning our<br />

work becomes relevant and meaningful to the places and<br />

people with whom we work.<br />

ENGAGED SCHOLARSHIP AND RESEARCH<br />

I’ve been teaching engaged studios for quite some time<br />

at Cornell and connecting these studios to my engaged<br />

Cornell Landscape Architecture senior Radhya<br />

Adityavarman evaluating Genesee Street’s strengths<br />

and challenges with stakeholders at community<br />

meeting in downtown Utica, N.Y. (March <strong>2013</strong>).<br />

scholarship and research.<br />

The Rust to Green NY Action<br />

<strong>Research</strong> Project, which I’m<br />

currently spearheading, engages<br />

university students and faculty<br />

in working with community<br />

partners in NY’s most at risk postindustrial<br />

Rust Belt cities. Rust to<br />

Green acts as a facilitator helping<br />

to identify, activate, connect, and<br />

assemble community assets<br />

where economic capital may<br />

be in short supply, yet social<br />

capital, need, and motivation for<br />

change is plentiful. Such a placebased<br />

and participatory action<br />

research approach is in and of itself, asset building and<br />

creates scaffolding for empowerment, experimentation,<br />

and innovative decision-making and action.<br />

In the Rust to Green Capstone Studio, undergraduates<br />

and graduate students come together each spring semester<br />

to work with community partners on participatory planning<br />

and design projects. This semester, students are working<br />

with Utica’s arts community, downtown district, MLK<br />

Jr. Elementary School and the Mohawk Valley Resource<br />

Center for Refugees. Four teams are busy working on<br />

different projects at varying levels of development. The<br />

service-learning studio teaches and mentors the students<br />

in unfolding participatory community design processes<br />

tailored to each project and its partners. Some of these<br />

students will continue into the summer months as Rust<br />

to Green Civic <strong>Research</strong> Fellows working with community<br />

partners to advance projects to the next level.<br />

Another example of the layering and sedimenting<br />

aspect of the groundwork from which dreamwork<br />

emerges is the Erasing Boundaries Project. This endeavor<br />

is both a project and a network of landscape architecture,<br />

architecture, planning, and design educators committed<br />

to engaged teaching (service-learning), research and<br />

scholarship. Through our gatherings and dialogue we are<br />

creating a community network of our own, growing in<br />

our capacity and effectiveness as engaged teachers and<br />

scholars, and creating opportunities to share, highlight,<br />

and represent design as community engagement, social<br />

action, and civic professionalism (See Angotti, Doble, &<br />

Horrigan, 2011). Erasing Boundaries has been instrumental<br />

in starting a Service-Learning Track in the Council of<br />

Educators in Landscape Architecture (CELA) conference<br />

and its members are playing an increasing role in the<br />

promotion and tenure reviews of faculty whose teaching<br />

and scholarship engages with communities.<br />

The groundwork of Erasing Boundaries, Rust to Green<br />

and the engaged practices, methods, and pedagogies<br />

they model and employ are, as described, very much<br />

in the process of being plotted and cultivated. For this<br />

educator, they are unequivocally regarded as being vital<br />

and essential parts of the fertile and furrowed terrain from<br />

which landscape’s 21st century dreamwork will grow.<br />

References:<br />

Angotti, T., Doble, C., & Horrigan, P. (2011). Service-learning: Educating<br />

at the boundaries. Oakland: New Village Press.<br />

Jacoby, B. & Mutascio, P. (Eds.) (2010). Looking in, reaching out: A<br />

reflective guide for community service-learning professionals. Boston:<br />

Campus Compact.<br />

Mitchell, D. (2003). Cultural landscapes: Just landscapes or landscapes<br />

of justice Progress in Human Geography, 27(6), 787-796.<br />

Students’ Reflection Journals (2003, 2012). Rust to Green Capstone<br />

Studio, Department of Landscape Architecture, Cornell University.<br />

Paula Horrigan, MLA, is an Associate<br />

Professor of Landscape Architecture<br />

at Cornell University and a member of<br />

the <strong>2013</strong>-2014 EDRA Board of Directors.<br />

She can be reached at phh3@cornell.<br />

edu.<br />

A publication from the <strong>Environmental</strong> <strong>Design</strong> <strong>Research</strong> <strong>Association</strong>


Resilience engineering: a better way<br />

of approaching patient safety<br />

BY SHEILA J. BOSCH AND ROBERT WEARS<br />

<strong>2013</strong><br />

MAY<br />

07<br />

Patient-safe healthcare facility design should focus less on<br />

preventing things from going wrong and more on ensuring<br />

that things go right. People and things will fail—it’s how<br />

we respond that really matters. This is not to suggest<br />

that risk assessments and other patient safety strategies<br />

commonly used in the healthcare industry are not<br />

purposeful. But, perhaps there is a more proactive, more<br />

positive approach to reducing harm that warrants attention<br />

—resilience engineering. Although not an entirely new<br />

concept, resilience engineering offers us fresh insights for<br />

designing healthcare facilities.<br />

Resilience in systems is defined as the ability of a<br />

system to adapt and sustain key operations in the face<br />

of expected or unexpected challenges or opportunities.<br />

Characterized by four cardinal activities, resilience,<br />

involves responding to the actual, monitoring the critical,<br />

anticipating the possible, and learning from the factual<br />

(Hollnagel, Pariès, Woods, & Wreathall, 2011).<br />

RESPONDING TO THE<br />

ACTUAL<br />

In many cases, healthcare<br />

providers develop such good<br />

workarounds to overcome<br />

obstacles posed by the physical<br />

environment that little to no<br />

effort is made to correct potential<br />

barriers to safety. Wears & Perry<br />

(2002) describe an interesting,<br />

yet typical case of a 52-year old,<br />

insulin-dependent diabetic with<br />

hypertension who presented to<br />

the emergency department (ED)<br />

with a headache and “general<br />

malaise.” He was triaged to a<br />

resuscitation bed and transported<br />

to the computed tomography (CT)<br />

A publication from the <strong>Environmental</strong> <strong>Design</strong> <strong>Research</strong> <strong>Association</strong><br />

The Emergency Department at Tampa<br />

General Hospital is located on the second<br />

floor, a decision that anticipates and plans for<br />

possible flooding events. (Photo by Rion Rizzo,<br />

Creative Sources Photography.)<br />

suite adjacent to the ED. Since the resuscitation stretcher<br />

on which he was lying would not fit through the door<br />

between the two departments (note: staff members knew<br />

which beds would or would not fit through the door), he<br />

was taken the long way around through another set of<br />

doors and down a corridor to the CT suite. The authors go<br />

on to describe the “rest of the story,” noting how adeptly<br />

care providers adapted to less than ideal conditions.<br />

Although the ED had been through two major renovations<br />

previously, the problem of the small door (or large beds)<br />

remained. Far too often, physical conditions exist that may<br />

adversely affect patient safety, but the appropriate actions<br />

are not taken.<br />

MONITORING THE CRITICAL<br />

One advantage that the healthcare sector may have over<br />

other types of organizations striving to become more<br />

resilient is that healthcare providers typically collect<br />

and monitor LOTS of data. In the ED, for example,<br />

administrators keep a close eye on<br />

patient throughput times (e.g., doorto-triage,<br />

door-to-provider, door-todisposition,<br />

average length of stay for<br />

admitted, discharged, and all patients,<br />

the number of patients who left without<br />

being seen by a provider, etc.). When<br />

minutes matter, these numbers may<br />

mean the difference between life and<br />

death. Oftentimes, however, we do<br />

not focus enough attention on how<br />

the physical environment is affecting<br />

safety-related outcomes. A resilient<br />

organization will focus not only on the<br />

common metrics typically monitored, but<br />

may investigate “hunches” or “intuition.”<br />

For example, Hall and colleagues (2008,<br />

p.242) conducted a study in which they<br />

demonstrated that patients presenting to the ED with<br />

chest pain were more likely to experience a time to initial<br />

assessment longer than 10 minutes (a possible safety<br />

threat) when a patient was placed in an exam room with<br />

a solid door or one that was more than 25 feet from the<br />

main physician work area. Armed with that data, design<br />

teams may choose to specify doors with glazing and<br />

decentralize the physician work spaces so that there is<br />

greater proximity between work areas and exam rooms.<br />

ANTICIPATING THE POSSIBLE<br />

Another example of taking resilience engineering from<br />

theory to reality can be found in Tampa General Hospital’s<br />

ED. Many design strategies were implemented to<br />

facilitate disaster response in adverse situations, such as<br />

hurricanes and flooding. The ED is located on the 2nd floor<br />

so that if flooding occurs, the ED is protected. There are<br />

locked medical gas cabinets located throughout the ED in<br />

waiting areas, conference rooms, and administrative areas<br />

that can be opened to handle patient surges in the event<br />

of a disaster. In the case of a major event or bioterrorism<br />

attack, the parking garage is designed so that it can quickly<br />

become a triage area, complete with a decontamination<br />

shower. These strategies are in place to provide an<br />

environment that encourages resilience on the part of the<br />

caregivers in a disaster situation, not an unlikely scenario.<br />

LEARNING FROM THE FACTUAL<br />

Tampa General Hospital has also spent a lot of time<br />

learning from the factual by examining quality and safety<br />

metrics and studying existing care processes to identify<br />

and implement improvement opportunities. Processes<br />

that introduce probable threats to safety are improved.<br />

For the most part, the physical design of the emergency<br />

department has been flexible enough to support needed<br />

continued on p. 8


Resilience engineering: a better way of approaching<br />

08<br />

<strong>2013</strong><br />

MAY<br />

patient safety (CONTINUED)<br />

process changes. When evaluating existing<br />

and optimized processes, it is imperative<br />

to try and identify the subtle things that<br />

make the process work well. As Hollnagel<br />

states (2012b, p.8), “Things do not go<br />

well because people simply follow the<br />

procedures. Things go well because people<br />

make sensible adjustments according to<br />

the demands of the situation.”<br />

SAFETY I VERSUS SAFETY II<br />

Fostering resilience requires taking a radically<br />

different approach to safety. It is often called<br />

Safety II, to contrast it to the traditional<br />

Safety I approach (Hollnagel, 2012a). Safety<br />

I is reactive, focused on identifying errors or<br />

adverse events and reducing them to some<br />

acceptably low level. Safety II, however, is<br />

proactive and focused on increasing the likelihood that<br />

things (every day activities) go right as often as possible.<br />

Safety II, an approach that demands resilience, requires a<br />

different mindset. For example, developing standardized<br />

processes is useful, but with Safety II thinking, deviating<br />

from the process (i.e., performance variability) is not<br />

necessarily the enemy. Rather than eliminate performance<br />

variability, it is important to recognize, monitor and control<br />

it—if something is varying in a positive direction, advocate<br />

it (Hollnagel, 2012a).<br />

We have more tools to measure how well Safety I is<br />

being accomplished (e.g., incident reports, root cause<br />

analysis) and therefore are perhaps more comfortable with<br />

these methods. Safety II, optimized by resilience, seems<br />

a bit more difficult to evaluate. Probably our best hope<br />

of achieving exceptional patient safety in the acute care<br />

setting lies in using a combination of Safety I and Safety<br />

II approaches.<br />

Regardless of the Safety I: Safety II ratio deemed<br />

appropriate within the hospital setting, it is crucial to include<br />

care providers in developing safe workflows and creating a<br />

resilient organization. If not, they may develop workarounds<br />

A publication from the <strong>Environmental</strong> <strong>Design</strong> <strong>Research</strong> <strong>Association</strong><br />

that are more efficient, but less safe<br />

(Blouin & McDonagh, 2011).<br />

PLANNING AND DESIGN<br />

RESPONSE<br />

The primary question for healthcare<br />

designers is, “How can our solutions<br />

support, or at least not inhibit,<br />

resilience” For example, let’s<br />

imagine that we can design hospital<br />

rooms and treatment areas to<br />

handle 90% of all cases with minor<br />

modification. By designing rooms<br />

that can be rapidly re-purposed, but<br />

are not unnecessarily redundant,<br />

the hospital can adapt more easily<br />

as situations change, perhaps<br />

improving safety and reducing<br />

costs. As an example, Greshnam, Smith and Partners’<br />

design (one of the final three) for Kaiser Permanente’s<br />

Small Hospital, Big Idea competition included a Universal<br />

Care Center which was comprised of emergent care, nonurgent<br />

care, observation, infusion therapies, pre-admission<br />

testing, electrocardiogram testing, and pulmonary function<br />

testing. In this example, there are four means by which<br />

cost savings could be realized:<br />

• Co-use of space for services which have different<br />

schedule requirements improves space utilization,<br />

reducing initial space requirements.<br />

• Elimination of barriers between services allows retasking<br />

of space without renovation costs.<br />

• Elimination of departmental barriers allows greater<br />

flexibility in the use of spaces, supporting a more cohesive<br />

and efficient response.<br />

• Elimination of departmental barriers permits crossutilization<br />

of staff, thereby reducing operational costs.<br />

For more information, visit www.resilience-engineeringassociation.org<br />

and http://www.resilienthealthcare.net.<br />

Resilient Health Care, edited by Erik Hollnagel, Jeffrey<br />

Braithwaite and Robert Wears, is expected in late <strong>2013</strong>.<br />

Waiting areas at Tampa General<br />

Hospital feature discreet medical<br />

gas cabinets and can be adapted to<br />

handle patient surges during a disaster.<br />

(Photo by Rion Rizzo, Creative Sources<br />

Photography.)<br />

Acknowledgement: Thanks to James Kolb, Principal/<br />

Healthcare <strong>Design</strong>er at Gresham, Smith and Partners for<br />

providing insight surrounding the application of resilience<br />

engineering in healthcare planning and design.<br />

References:<br />

Blouin, A. S. & McDonagh, K. J. (2011). A framework for patient safety,<br />

part 1: Culture as an imperative. Journal of Nursing Administration,<br />

41(10), 397-400.<br />

Hall, K.K., Kyriacou, D.N., Handler, J.A., & Adams, J.G. (2008).<br />

Impact of emergency department built environment on timeliness<br />

of physician assessment of patients with chest pain. Environment &<br />

Behavior, 40(2), 233-248.<br />

Hollnagel, E. (2012a). A tale of two safeties. Retrieved on March 5, <strong>2013</strong><br />

from http://www.resilienthealthcare.net/A_tale_of_two_safeties.pdf.<br />

Hollnagel, E. (2012b). Proactive approaches to safety management.<br />

Thought paper published by the Health Foundation. Retrieved on<br />

March 5, <strong>2013</strong> from http://www.resilienthealthcare.net/THF-TP_2_<br />

Proactive_approaches.pdf<br />

Hollnagel, E., Pariès, J., Woods, D. D., & Wreathall, J. (2011) (Eds.).<br />

Resilience Engineering in practice: A guidebook. Surrey, England:<br />

Ashgate Publishing, Ltd.<br />

Wears, R. & Perry, S. (2002). Human factors and ergonomics in the<br />

emergency department. Annals of Emergency Medicine, 40, 206-212.<br />

Sheila J. Bosch, Ph.D., LEED AP,<br />

EDAC is the Director of <strong>Research</strong> for<br />

Gresham, Smith and Partners. She can<br />

be reached at sbosch@gspnet.com.<br />

Robert L. Wears, M.D., MS, Ph.D. is<br />

an emergency physician, Professor of<br />

Emergency Medicine at the University<br />

of Florida, and Visiting Professor in the<br />

Clinical Safety <strong>Research</strong> Unit at Imperial<br />

College London. He can be reached at<br />

wears@ufl.edu


Book review: Why Loiter Women<br />

and Risk on Mumbai Streets<br />

BY KUSH PATEL<br />

<strong>2013</strong><br />

MAY<br />

09<br />

Why Loiter Women and Risk on Mumbai<br />

Streets by Shilpa Phadke, Sameera Khan, and<br />

Shilpa Ranade. New Delhi: Penguin India, 2011.<br />

280 pages.<br />

This book is a timely fit, not just in the<br />

spate of recent protests in the Global South<br />

against endemic sexual violence, but also in<br />

the ever-expanding literature on critical spatial<br />

scholarship of value to the theory and practice of<br />

urban design across wider social geographies.<br />

Shilpa Phadke (Assistant Professor at the<br />

Centre for Media Studies at The Tata Institute<br />

of Social Sciences, Mumbai), Sameera Khan<br />

(journalist and writer) and Shilpa Ranade<br />

(architect and cultural theorist) set out on an<br />

ambitious task: to challenge the normative<br />

assumptions about the way we see and use space; criticize<br />

the narrative of safety for women in parochial community<br />

structures; establish how loitering might allow women<br />

equal access to urban space; and eventually formulate a<br />

new feminist agenda involving each of these concerns, but<br />

inclusive of all marginal groups. Throughout, we encounter<br />

references to the writings of 20th century urban social<br />

theorists; read stories of everyday negotiations of access<br />

by women of different backgrounds; and finally, come full<br />

circle to a greater understanding of the significance of the<br />

title question, Why Loiter<br />

The essence of Phadke, Khan, and Ranade’s argument<br />

is that the notion of safety has long been employed by<br />

patriarchal institutions in which not only men but also<br />

women participate to implicitly monitor the behavior<br />

of other women in public space. “Safety,” they say, “is<br />

connected not as much to women’s own sense of bodily<br />

integrity or to their consent, but rather to ideas of izzat and<br />

honor of the family and community” (p.53). In such settings,<br />

women are guarded against assumed sexual dangers from<br />

A publication from the <strong>Environmental</strong> <strong>Design</strong> <strong>Research</strong> <strong>Association</strong><br />

less desirable groups, including<br />

lower-class men. Due to such a<br />

deceptive opposition between<br />

class and gender, women are<br />

consistently marginalized in<br />

larger urban contexts. “Instead of<br />

safety,” they add, “what women<br />

should then seek is the right to<br />

take risks …” (p.60) for it is only by<br />

claiming the right to “chosen risk”<br />

that they can claim full access to<br />

public space.<br />

By privileging access over<br />

safety, the authors ask us to<br />

suspend the language of danger<br />

and embrace the pursuit of<br />

pleasure. “Pleasure or fun,” they<br />

continue, “is seen as threatening because it fundamentally<br />

questions the idea that women’s presence in public space<br />

is acceptable when they have a purpose” (p.113). Any<br />

move away from notions of safety and danger, therefore,<br />

raises such important questions as: What does it mean for<br />

women to be in public space without having to manufacture<br />

purpose What does it mean for women to just loiter It<br />

is in this light that the authors cast loitering as a strategic<br />

spatial practice aimed at reconfiguring the terms of access<br />

and participation in the public realm. They view loitering<br />

as a way to question the privileged neutral inhabitant and<br />

enlarge the visibility of all traditionally excluded citizens<br />

in the production of space; this against the common<br />

perception of loitering as an undesirable activity.<br />

The book draws on authors’ first-hand findings of<br />

the Gender and Space project (2003-2006) at PUKAR<br />

(Partners in Urban Knowledge, Action, and <strong>Research</strong>)<br />

in Mumbai. Their research employed methodological<br />

tactics such as interviews, ethnographic studies, and<br />

mappings of places, both frequented and avoided by<br />

Patheja, J. <strong>2013</strong>. Blank Noise, Safe City<br />

Pledge - Delhi. Retrieved from http://<br />

blog.blanknoise.org/<strong>2013</strong>/03/happywomens-day.html.<br />

women. Alongside, they held workshops with students<br />

and intellectuals, participated in advocacy initiatives, and<br />

examined published materials on the city. Through each<br />

of these, the authors sought to render people of diverse<br />

affiliations as strategic partners in their project.<br />

As such, the book is written for a general audience,<br />

speaking at once to the intellectual ideologies and lived<br />

experiences of people who call this city their home. It<br />

focuses on Mumbai to assess the popular claim that the<br />

city offers women a limitless access to public space.<br />

Instead, the authors reveal that Mumbai women—just like<br />

their counterparts in other cities—feel obligated to justify<br />

their presence throughout the city. Although the work is<br />

Mumbai-based, they hope that their assumptions about<br />

gender, space, and the linkages between them as well as<br />

their faith in the radical potential of loitering might connect<br />

with the everyday experiences of women and minorities in<br />

other similarly globalizing cities of the world.<br />

In terms of organization, Why Loiter consists of four<br />

sections, each offering ways to think past our notions of<br />

open access to public space. The first section, “City Limits,”<br />

lays out the core arguments of the book and introduces<br />

cultural meanings associated with key concepts such as<br />

safety and danger, risk and pleasure, the right to work, and<br />

also the right to play in modern city life. The second section,<br />

“Everyday Spaces,” clarifies the authors’ view of space as<br />

an embodied experience and connects this to not just how<br />

men and women experience the public realm in different<br />

ways, but also to why the design of public spaces must<br />

take into account corporeal distinctions to facilitate wider<br />

access. From mass transport systems to public toilets,<br />

neighborhood parks to popular destinations, the authors<br />

provide examples of everyday spaces in the city to at once<br />

draw attention to the “lived messiness” of everyday life<br />

and a general apathy of designed infrastructures.<br />

continued on p. 10


Book review: Why Loiter Women and Risk on<br />

Mumbai Streets (CONTINUED)<br />

<strong>2013</strong><br />

MAY<br />

10<br />

The book ...focuses on Mumbai to<br />

assess the popular claim that the city<br />

offers women a limitless access to<br />

public space. Instead, the authors<br />

reveal that Mumbai women—just like<br />

their counterparts in other cities—feel<br />

obligated to justify their presence<br />

throughout the city.<br />

The third section, “In Search of Pleasure,” provides real accounts of city women from a broad spectrum of society, all<br />

“having fun” by strategizing their way through the city in novel ways on a daily basis. The final section, “Imagining Utopias,”<br />

ties together all the major discussion threads from preceding chapters and makes an expanded case for women and other<br />

minorities to “court risk” in the name of pleasure, but without losing responsibility and respectability.<br />

This call for seeking pleasure in the city is a long-standing socially relevant philosophical project. From Roland Barthes’ use<br />

of pleasure as a concept to challenge the established theory of the text (1975) to Bernard Tschumi’s employment of pleasure<br />

as a rhetorical device for disciplinary reflection (1975), from Guy Debord’s insistence on experimenting with pleasure through<br />

playful disorientations in everyday strolls (1981) to Iain Borden’s focus on skateboarders and their reconstruction of the city<br />

as a pleasure ground (2001), the notion of pleasure and its various iterations have time after time spoken to the practice of<br />

transgression and its emancipatory promise.<br />

Phadke, Khan, and Ranade too revel in this polemic, but instead of keeping alive the contradictory values of pleasure—at<br />

once inventive and disruptive—they go on to flatten the notion by dissociating loitering from other identity markers and<br />

ultimately framing the act as a neutral practice, shared across multiple identities. In other words, while the authors do full<br />

justice to the question of “why loiter,” they offer little in terms of how the concept might be variously understood and practiced<br />

for pleasure. The book begins by placing the concern of women’s exclusion from public space in relation to the more expansive<br />

politics of prejudice against other minorities, but falls short in noting how those very groups—poor, dalits, Muslims, sexual<br />

minorities, and their inter-formations—might loiter differently; lay claims to the city by loitering in distinct ways; and through<br />

each of these, cultivate pleasures specific to their respective moralities.<br />

To their credit, however, they articulate the significance of loitering and its potential for contestation in clear and tangible<br />

terms. There is modesty and promise in their overall argumentation, which sits in gentle contrast to the exasperating<br />

exclusiveness of so many other writings of similar orientation. The authors have produced an inspiring piece of work on public<br />

space and social life, and I greatly welcome their contribution to the fields of architecture and urban design research. The<br />

socially motivated reader will find their material narratives on Mumbai, methodological approach for qualitative research, and<br />

consistent engagement with the spatialities of voice and everyday lived realities extremely rewarding.<br />

Blank Noise is a public participatory arts project located at the intersection of space and sexuality. It seeks to confront sexual<br />

harassment in public spaces through performance, blogging, opinion polls, and street interventions. Visit http://blog.blanknoise.<br />

org/ to join the conversation.<br />

References:<br />

Barthes, R. (1975). The pleasure of the text. New York: Hill and Wang.<br />

Borden, I. (2001). Skateboarding, space and the city: Architecture, the body<br />

and performative critique. Oxford, UK: Berg.<br />

Debord, G. (1981). Introduction to a critique of urban geography. In<br />

Ken Knabb’s (Ed.) Situationist International Anthology, Berkeley:<br />

Bureau of Public Secrets, pp. 8-11.<br />

Tschumi, B. (1975). Questions of space: Lectures on architecture.<br />

London: Architectural <strong>Association</strong> Publications.<br />

Patheja, J. <strong>2013</strong>. Blank Noise, Safe City Pledge - Kolkata.<br />

Retrieved from http://blog.blanknoise.org/<strong>2013</strong>/01/<br />

safe-city-pledge.html.<br />

Kush Patel is a Ph.D. Candidate in Architecture <strong>Design</strong> Studies at the University of Michigan<br />

Taubman College of Architecture and Urban Planning, Ann Arbor. He can be reached at<br />

kshpatel@umich.edu.<br />

A publication from the <strong>Environmental</strong> <strong>Design</strong> <strong>Research</strong> <strong>Association</strong>


News from EDRA<br />

<strong>2013</strong><br />

MAY<br />

11<br />

ENVIRONMENTAL DESIGN RESEARCH<br />

ASSOCIATION<br />

1760 Old Meadow Road, Suite 500<br />

McLean, VA 22102<br />

p: 703.506.2895 f:703.506.3266<br />

www.edra.org<br />

EDRA Connections is published twice a<br />

year by the <strong>Environmental</strong> <strong>Design</strong> <strong>Research</strong><br />

<strong>Association</strong>. © <strong>2013</strong>. All rights reserved.<br />

EDITOR<br />

Tasoulla Hadjiyanni<br />

thadjiyanni@edra.org<br />

2012-<strong>2013</strong> BOARD OF DIRECTORS<br />

Mallika Bose, Chair<br />

mbose@edra.org<br />

Rula Awwad-Rafferty, Chair-Elect<br />

rula@edra.org<br />

Victoria Chanse, Secretary<br />

vchanse@edra.org<br />

Shauna Mallory-Hill, Treasurer<br />

smalloryhill@edra.org<br />

Atiya Mahmood, Past Chair<br />

amahmood@edra.org<br />

Gowri Betrabet Gulwadi<br />

gowri@edra.org<br />

Tasoulla Hadjiyanni<br />

thadjiyanni@edra.org<br />

Byoung-Suk Kweon<br />

bkweon@edra.org<br />

April Spivack, Student Representative<br />

aspivack@edra.org<br />

Nicholas Watkins<br />

nwatkins@edra.org<br />

Kate O’Donnell, Executive Director<br />

kodonnell@edra.org<br />

In this section, you’ll find news from EDRA Headquarters,<br />

including conference and awards information, membership<br />

updates, and more. Please email headquarters@edra.org with<br />

any questions you have regarding the information below.<br />

EDRA44PROVIDENCE<br />

EDRA44Providence is right around the corner—if you<br />

haven’t registered yet, what are you waiting for Building<br />

on the theme of “Healthy + Healing Places”, we have so<br />

much in store for you: a dynamic plenary program with Dr.<br />

Richard Jackson from UCLA’s School of Public Health, Dr.<br />

Aaron Wernham from the Health Impact Project, and Susan<br />

Goltsman and Daniel Iafacono from MIG; four engaging<br />

mobile sessions exploring Providence from the outside in;<br />

the Healthy Rhode Island <strong>Environmental</strong> <strong>Design</strong> Summit,<br />

where researchers, design professionals, and policymakers<br />

converge to validate with research local initiatives, frame<br />

questions for future studies in support of these initiatives,<br />

and provide examples of best practices from elsewhere<br />

that may help local action; and the Healthy + Healing Places<br />

Exhibition, a collection of outstanding design projects that<br />

exemplify the conference theme.<br />

With 113 sessions approved for AIA CES and IDCEC<br />

continuing education credits, and 78 sessions approved<br />

for LA CES credits, EDRA44Providence offers design<br />

professionals unparalleled opportunities to advance<br />

their education and satisfy professional development<br />

requirements, including health, safety, and welfare<br />

designations.<br />

This year we have a special program planned for<br />

Wednesday evening to welcome our first-time attendees,<br />

pairing them up with “EDRA Ambassadors” to help them<br />

make the most of their conference-going experience. And,<br />

in keeping with our conference theme, EDRA has partnered<br />

with Breathing Time Yoga to provide complimentary yoga<br />

classes each morning prior to the start of the day’s sessions.<br />

For complete details, including the preliminary<br />

program and registraiton information, visit www.edra.org/<br />

edra44providence.<br />

EDRA FALL SYMPOSIUM: HEALTHCARE DESIGN<br />

AND ACCOUNTABLE CARE<br />

As one of its strategic initiatives for <strong>2013</strong>, EDRA is<br />

committed to developing a series of symposia which will<br />

be specifically focused on translational research that affects<br />

people in design and engineering practices.<br />

EDRA’s core mission is to engage, advance, and<br />

disseminate environmental design research. A key<br />

component to the fulfillment of this mission is effectively<br />

partnering with and utilizing this research with the<br />

individuals and organizations responsible for the creation and<br />

management of natural and built environments. The intent<br />

of this new series will be to further disseminate design<br />

research in applicable ways to specific domains.<br />

We have currently begun work in partnership with the<br />

New York School of Interior <strong>Design</strong> (NYSID) on our first<br />

symposium to take place October 11, <strong>2013</strong> at NYSID in<br />

New York City. The focus will be Healthcare <strong>Design</strong> and<br />

Accountable Care. Stay tuned for more information about<br />

this seminal event!<br />

BOARD OF DIRECTOR ELECTIONS<br />

Thank you to everyone who participated in the election<br />

process for the <strong>2013</strong>-2014 EDRA Board of Directors. We are<br />

pleased to announce that David L. Boeck AIA, IDEC, NCARB,<br />

LEED AP, Associate Professor, College of Architecture,<br />

University of Oklahoma; Paula Horrigan, MLA, Associate<br />

Professor, Department of Landscape Architecture, Cornell<br />

University; and Shauna Mallory-Hill, Ph.D., M.Arch, B.E.S.,<br />

LEED AP, Assistant Professor, Department of Interior <strong>Design</strong>,<br />

University of Manitoba, have been elected to the EDRA<br />

Board of Directors for a three-year term beginning August<br />

1, <strong>2013</strong>. Marwa Abdelmonem, PhD Candidate, Interior<br />

<strong>Environmental</strong> <strong>Design</strong>, Texas Tech University, was elected to<br />

the Student Representative position, and will serve a twoyear<br />

term beginning August 1.<br />

continued on p. 12<br />

A publication from the <strong>Environmental</strong> <strong>Design</strong> <strong>Research</strong> <strong>Association</strong>


Welcome new members! 12<br />

<strong>2013</strong><br />

MAY<br />

EDRA WELCOMED 115 NEW OR RETURNING MEMBERS FROM JANUARY 1 - APRIL 30, <strong>2013</strong>:<br />

EDRA ANNUAL REPORT<br />

NOW AVAILABLE<br />

EDRA is pleased to present<br />

the 2012 Annual Report,<br />

detailing our organization’s<br />

programmatic and financial<br />

activities for the 2011-2012<br />

year. The report can be<br />

found at http://www.edra.<br />

org/sites/default/files/pdfs/<br />

EDRAAnnualReport_2012.<br />

University of Manitoba<br />

Manjusha Misra<br />

Keith A. Miller<br />

Katie Murray<br />

Randolph Thompson Hester<br />

Professor Scott Crisman Sworts<br />

D Randall<br />

Will Green<br />

Emily Dunn<br />

Amyruth Stevens<br />

Professor Wilson Florio, Ph.D.<br />

Altaf Engineer<br />

Natasha Hegelund Latif<br />

Professor Deborah Y. Georg<br />

Professor Andrew A. Fox<br />

Nanci Weinberger<br />

Martha Beatriz Cortes Topete<br />

Professor Rachna Khare, Ph.D.<br />

Dr. Fred Malven<br />

Joanna Lombard<br />

Kristin Maki<br />

Kathryn P Wittner<br />

Ryan Gerber<br />

Dr. Stefano Serafini<br />

Sonia Bodie<br />

Crandon Gustafson<br />

Andrew Hanks<br />

Maryam Lesan, Ph.D.<br />

Mengyuan Xu<br />

Fahad Alhammadi<br />

Bimal Balakrishnan<br />

Dr. Hui Cai<br />

Dr. Patrick John Doyle<br />

Dr. Naoko Fujita<br />

Nathan Heavers<br />

Leanne Junnila<br />

Lori McGilberry<br />

Phillip G. Mead<br />

David Lee Morgareidge<br />

Richard Saravay<br />

Timothy Walker Swan<br />

Professor Youngran Tak<br />

Jess Voss, Ph.D.<br />

Rehab A. Aburas<br />

Maren King<br />

Masahiro Maeda, Ph.D.<br />

Dr. Shalini Misra<br />

Anthony Purvis<br />

Alberto Salvatore<br />

Fabiana Bugs Antocheviz<br />

Xin Bai<br />

Dr. Paula Barros<br />

Kathrin Bueter<br />

Dr. Victoria Derr<br />

Dr. Eugenia Victoria Ellis<br />

Sally Harrison<br />

Mr. Rodrigo I. Mora, Ph.D.<br />

Kaarin Piegaze Lindquist<br />

Kristin Aldred Cheek<br />

Darryl W. Booker<br />

Fiona de Vos, Ph.D.<br />

Dr. Jain Kwon<br />

Sarah Little<br />

Diana Sabouni<br />

Erin M Hamilton<br />

Dr. Giovanna Potesta<br />

Amanda Zaitchik<br />

Doug Bazuin<br />

Robert Ericson<br />

Dr. Kimberly Bosworth Phalen<br />

Laurie B. Hurson<br />

Professor William Riehm<br />

Professor Doreen Balabanoff<br />

Maria Cristina Lay<br />

Dr. Carl Schultz<br />

Dr. Hyun Joo kwon<br />

Gretchen Leary<br />

Chien-Chung Chen<br />

Grace Campagna<br />

Leah Ariel Wener<br />

Jung-hye Shin<br />

Jane Buxton<br />

Julio Bermudez, Ph.D.<br />

Professor Woo Cho<br />

Suk-Hwan Hong<br />

Dr. Hally El Kony, Ph.D.<br />

Nayma Khan, M.Arch<br />

Professor Joan Vorderbruggen<br />

Jenifer Marley<br />

Francoise Acquier<br />

Dr. Stephanie Wikie<br />

Katarzyna Malgorzata Redzinska, Ph.D.<br />

Jung Ja Cardoso<br />

Ben Spencer<br />

Anne Hundley<br />

Brandon Hatle<br />

Claudia Lewis<br />

Jasmine Maclin<br />

Sonika Rawal, M.Arch<br />

Dr. Karin Tanja-Dijkstra<br />

Dr. Louis George Tassinary, Ph.D.<br />

Ngoc Vo<br />

Shan Jiang<br />

D.J. Knauer<br />

Professor Carlotta Fontana, Ph.D.<br />

Erin Dora<br />

Seunghae Lee<br />

Leah Maureen Scolere, M.A.<br />

Ronald F. Titus<br />

Jan Jennings<br />

Dr. Celen Pasalar, Ph.D.<br />

Hunter A Isgrig<br />

Daniel Winterbottom<br />

Professor Evelyn Everett Knowles, Ph.D.<br />

Yen-Cheng Chiang, Ph.D.<br />

Professor Evrim Demir Mishchenko, Ph.D.<br />

A publication from the <strong>Environmental</strong> <strong>Design</strong> <strong>Research</strong> <strong>Association</strong>

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