I really just came here for the free lunch and the continuing education credits. I didn’t come here to listen to you pontificate on the meaning of design. I don’t even know what dichotomy means, let alone how to use it a sentence, or the design of a gymnasium primarily used for children. I don’t even think dichotomy is appropriate for children. I don’t really need to stand here holding my half-empty bag of chips while you tell me about the hierarchical relationships between the auditorium space and the restrooms.

I’m trying to eat, and you’re trying to solve problems that don’t exist with a sharpie and a computer program.

Perhaps the children don’t care about hierarchy, perhaps they just need to use the restroom and get on with their day. Do we need to remind them of the disparity between the working class and the top 1% while they’re on the way to social studies? And why would try to give THAT built form? That sounds messy.

I’m just eating my roast beef sandwich here and learning about waterproofing details. Don’t ask me to critique the state of the economy using only toilet partitions and seven letter words.

Children need order you say? Sure, design is how we apply order to the world around us. Sure, why not? I’ll just nod along. You know what children love? Order. Think of the children, all lined up and ordered, separated into served and servant spaces, waiting for their chance to experience the architecture. It’ll be better than recess.

No, I do think the concept will resonant with the kids. A school is a “tree for learning”. Got it. No, It’s good. The kids will appreciate the layout those classrooms, and the connection with the forest outside, and the angled mullions at the tops of the windows to reflect branches. Yes, you did make the classrooms the roots, the main hallway the trunk, and the auditorium the canopy of branches, etc. etc. No, I’m listening. Maybe you should put a tree in the lobby to really drive the concept home.

Maybe you could let me finish my sandwich in peace.