The Architecture of the Shadow and the Shadow of Architecture

We talk about progress as if it’s a straight line forward. But really, we live in orbit -circling the past, pulled by its gravity, deciding whether to stay bound or break free.

When my son began to speak as though he ran the household, I realized something: being child-led all the time isn’t sustainable. It inflated his sense of power until it eclipsed the humility he needed to grow.

And then I thought of my parents.

Immigrants raising children in a new world. Their approach was not perfect - I lament some of what was rigid. But within that structure were kernels of culturally seasoned, generational wisdom. Wisdom that now gives my son exactly what he needs: to understand that growth comes not from having everything bend toward you, but from learning to bend within and towards something larger than ourselves.

In some culinary traditions, especially ancestral or slow food traditions, a small portion of a previous dish or base (like broth, stew, sourdough starter, or fermented yogurt) is saved and used to seed the next batch. This creates continuity, depth of flavor, and a living thread between meals - some cultures literally keep a “mother stock” going for generations.

Edward Said wrote that we shouldn’t throw away the past wholesale, but place it within a larger tapestry of thought.

That’s the work in front of us.

Schools swing between shadows, too: from rigid behaviorism to the child-as-center-of-the-universe. Feelings matter. But they aren’t the whole architecture of learning. The challenge is not to cling or destroy. It’s to borrow, rework, and rebuild.

Progress doesn’t erase - it reorients. It’s not the demolition of old walls, but the carving of new windows. It’s not about breaking orbit, but expanding it. We all need freedom to grow. And that freedom comes when the architecture of the past no longer feels like shadow… but sky.


cc: Orientialism

warm regards,
amber eltaieb