Foundations: AIA NJ Strategic Councilor Libertad Lauren Harris, AIA, Shares Her Story

September 15, 2026

Why I Decided to Become an Architect

I was eleven years old when architecture first captured my imagination.

My mother was a big fan of the movie Sommersby, with Richard Gere, so our family vacation was to the town that served as the set for the movie.  We stumbled upon the Antebellum historic home to have a look at the beautiful, undisturbed residence and came upon its current residents.  The husband and wife had rented this historic mansion for 99 years and then began a journey of returning to university to learn how to properly restore it.  They spent a significant amount of time with us, telling tales of the Native American artifacts found on the grounds as well as stories of the restoration.  This experience stayed with me. I wasn’t thinking about floor plans, construction documents, or technology. I was fascinated by the place itself—its history, its character, and the idea that buildings could carry stories from one generation to another.

That fascination eventually gave me a name for what I thought I wanted to do: historic preservation.

I entered architecture imagining a career protecting old buildings and giving them new life. But as I learned more about the profession, something unexpected happened. I became equally fascinated by the opposite end of the timeline.

Instead of focusing on historic preservation, I gravitated toward emerging materials and, eventually, emerging technologies. BIM, virtual design and construction, digital delivery, computational processes, and now artificial intelligence became defining parts of my career. I went from imagining that I would spend my life studying how buildings were created in the past to exploring how we might create them differently in the future.

Today, I realize those paths aren’t opposites at all. Both are about understanding what matters enough to carry forward.

There is another part of my story that I have come to understand differently with time: my name.

When my parents named me Libertad—the Spanish word for freedom—I am not certain they realized they were shaping my future as an advocate. Architecture became more than the profession I chose; it became a platform through which I could advocate for the profession and, more importantly, for the people who might someday join it.

That passion has led me to work with underrepresented communities and to expose K–12 students, collegiate students, and emerging professionals to both the technical and creative art of architecture. I have devoted much of my professional life to service, working to create an easier and more equitable pipeline for those who will follow us. Through mentorship, professional leadership, and my involvement with the American Institute of Architects, I have learned that we don’t simply design buildings. We can design opportunities.

My career in BIM, VDC, and digital delivery has allowed me to explore the future of how architects work. My service to the profession has allowed me to ask a bigger question: Who gets to be part of that future?

That question has become increasingly important to me.

Architecture is entering another period of profound change. Artificial intelligence, emerging technologies, new materials, evolving business models, and changing expectations are forcing us to reconsider what it means to be an architect. I want to help ensure that the profession we create is not only more innovative, but more accessible, equitable, and resilient.

Looking back, the path from an eleven-year-old learning about the history of an epic building to where I am today doesn’t feel accidental.

I began by wanting to preserve places that carried stories from the past. I built a career exploring technologies that could shape our future. And somewhere along the way, I discovered that my greatest responsibility may be helping others find their own path into that future.

Perhaps my parents chose the right name after all.

Because for me, architecture has ultimately become about Libertad—the freedom to imagine that something can be different, and the responsibility to help make it possible.