So, how did I find myself pursuing a field you can’t get a degree in?
It was kind of out of necessity. I had mentioned the path included heartbreak, existential crises (yes multiple), and #growth. Also there was a dash of theater and copious amounts of drinking.
I was always conflicted – I had always wanted to be a visual artist, likely an illustrator, collagist, or sculptor, centered on community building (very altruistic) but the pragmatic and the very real need to provide for myself and potentially my family steered me towards something a bit more grounded. It all starts with a good foundation, which my family and I thought would be engineering.
I was relatively decent in mathematics and science. I had been a mathlete all four years of high school (before it was cool eh em…. a la Mean Girls. I had a Math Team Jacket!), but I was never a mega-smarty-pants. I was super hardworking, and it really helped that my parents invested their time and money to make sure I could learn as much as I could (thanks mom and dad!). But, inside I was also a mega softee. I thought my drive to help people (gasp maybe humanity TM), with a splash of what science-inclined brain juice I had, could propel me into a field where I could make a living and still feel fulfilled. I found out that the biomedical engineering department at Columbia could be just the place for me – I could study and design small machines for medical testing in rural underserved communities.
I even got into the program! And, I started volunteering at the lab! But, I realized the cutthroat nature of research academic labs was not the place for me. So what does a disillusioned youth do? It’s the tale as old as time – join the theater.
But, actually I did. At that time, I was doing prop and set design/building for student theater on campus to hangout with friends and to have an outlet for that artistic streak. During one of many late nights staple-gunning plywood and painting sets, I asked myself, “what major in engineering school is similar to set design?” Structural Engineering. My friends (engineering and non-engineering) breathed a sigh of relief. Existential crisis toned down for a bit right?
Well, I officially changed my major whilst at engineering school at least four times. Unofficially, countless more, but now I had the plan – structural engineering, and I applied to architecture school, for the artistic flair.
During this time I also became a bartender for events and got to see some of the most amazing spaces: galleries, townhouses, and penthouse apartments. My love of theater and place-making just gobbled up the ambience of a good party. A tourist in social spheres, I would otherwise not have orbited around, facilitated with copious amounts of drinking, on everyone’s part, I developed this persona that was simultaneously intellectual and angsty as all heck. It unintentionally unlocked the door to rather intimate moments into folks’ lives.
Holding space for folks during their highest moments (Anniversaries! Birthdays! Book launches! Gallery openings!) and their lowest (At the end of the night! Where is the spouse? Why is your cell ringing? Why is mine ringing?), during a time of great change in mine, helped distract me from my existential questions but moreover from my inevitable heartbreak that loomed at graduation. I was not in a good way. People talk about first love being glorious and tumultuous. I can vouch for both parts. I was a hot mess.
After talking on the phone with Expedia for 8 hours post-graduation and post-breakup to change flights for what would have been a romantic European backpacking trip to a girls’ trip to Spain, I decided I was going to defer a year until attending architecture graduate studies (at my dream school). This decision came about as I stared at clouds and watched the trees’ leaves twirl in the wind. I felt super burnt out and directionless. How could I design spaces for people to celebrate and thrive in when I was barely able to get out of bed and definitely did not have a sense of who I was anymore?
My parents demanded to know what I was going to do for a year (they were particularly unkind about this; although, honestly… fair – I seemed to have an existential crisis every three months or so since the age of 9). And, I totally faked it. I had a plan. It was going to be fine.
I did NOT have a plan. I remembered that a year ago, I met a few engineers at a gallery event (I wasn’t bartending, just a rando who had heard about free wine served at a gallery). I reached out. I was so angsty and scared, but apparently I faked it so well in the interview – I got a year-long internship in facades.
At this moment, I went back to my roots and remembered that I had gravitated to the visual arts (and theater) because of the joy they sprouted in me and the idea of community really got me going. What I really didn’t get to learn about in school is that designing and then building a building is kind of just like a theater production. There are multiple people all with different jobs coming together to pull off something of proportions beyond our scale as humans. And, the show must go on. The building (as long as it’s been financed and designed properly) will get built. I ended up not going to architecture school, but I do teach at one, so that must count for something, ya?
And looking back, I really was just trying to build a home for the softest parts of myself. That’s growth – figuring out how to cultivate a safe space for the parts most genuine. My safe space’s facade is built from engineering – structural, materials science, and thermodynamics. And, it opens up when I collaborate and talk to architects, other engineers, and contractors.
In the past ten years, I’ve battled countless moments of imposter syndrome and of being underestimated by how I look – age, gender, and race. And, it is my expertise and tenacity to design the best solution that protects me. It is my skill to not only design a bangin’ facade but actually my ability to listen and understand what people actually want for a building at large is what sets me apart. The latter are the softest parts of me, the parts that make me, me. They’re what empowered me when I couldn’t quite figure out my place or my industry. And, they’re the parts that I seek to build a home for.
Katherine (Kat) Chan is a facade engineer with more than 10 years experience in the built environment, hyperlocal to NYC, where she calls home, and internationally. Her self-propelled desire for thorough analysis and a propensity for detail has enabled her to advocate for innovative approaches and materials. Her aim is to make facade design and engineering concepts accessible for more people, so they can have an engaged experience in the environment they live in. Kat has a degree in Structural Engineering from Columbia University, where she teaches as part of Adjunct Faculty in the Graduate School of Architecture, Preservation, and Planning.
