I always had a love for design. In particular, seeing preliminary plans mature from their conceptual stages into livable structures excited me. I'd always seen myself following an architect's footsteps, and, one day, drafting my own plans and seeing those plans become a reality as well. And so, after considering more practical (read: easier) options for my International Baccalaureate personal project, my mind kept returning to the project that was rooted in childhood fantasies. And, from there, things clicked.

At Somersfield Academy a lot had been made of the Personal Project, and, as a result, a lot had been assumed. How could you not be at least somewhat daunted by the notion of having to complete this apparently huge undertaking? Yes, at the time, eight months of intense research, writing, creating, and, ultimately, essay-writing seemed like a substantial amount of work. And so I too assumed the worst. Even if the final product, the plans I had spent months working on, were of trivial value compared to the grade weight of the essay, I still prepped for stress and a whole load of late nights.

For the most part, it was a mixed bag. Yes, there were nights that required working past the 12:00am hour, and, at some points, there was quite a bit to manage. But there never was as much to worry about as I had expected. I attribute that luck to my chosen subject matter. I had opted for something that I would enjoy doing, something that could perhaps have worldly significance and maybe, just maybe, make the workload a bit easier to handle. In the end, that crucial decision made all the difference.

Early in the process I came to a crossroads, unsure of which direction to take. Would I display my work from a standpoint that would serve merely to display the intricacies of a professional architectural workflow, or, would I instead choose to use my plans to tackle a controversial issue on-island, namely the housing crisis? The latter was definitely the more complex route, but I saw its potential impact, its ability to possibly have further significance. So I went with that, and, in the end, I came to realise it as the right decision. It was then time to put things into motion.

Work ensued, and things started happening. Ideas came, ideas left. Some were scrapped and others were included, making it to the final cut. Then, after eight months, it was time to show off what I had completed, and reflect on my efforts. A fair was held at Somersfield Academy and the public came to finally view what I had done: architectural drawings for low-cost/consumer-friendly housing drafted in AutoCAD. I am happy to say, almost all were genuinely impressed. I couldn't have been more satisfied. I had completed the challenge, satisfying not only the high standards of the IB and my school, but also those of my own. My final creation was more than just lines on drafting paper, and that, for me, was a triumph.

My project (and my entire class') was, in its simplest form, the sum of its parts: a work of reason, thought, and, of course, a considerable amount of effort. While the importance of these three factors may have wavered from student to student, there was one characteristic that remained consistent throughout each: the degree of passion that they were all composed of. Innately personal, each project was, in its own unique way, a celebration of the individual. To me, that matters so much more than the grade you receive at the end of it all.