
Lori Apfel Cardeli, AIA, on how authors shape early design literacy
Cardeli continues her series on children’s architecture books by talking with authors about what makes their work impactful.
In the first article of this series, I explored why children’s books have become such an effective tool for K–12 architecture outreach: They make the profession visible, lower barriers to entry, and invite curiosity about the built environment long before career decisions are on the table. As that work expanded, other questions naturally emerged: Who is writing these books, and why does listening to them matter?
To find answers, I spoke with nine authors whose work connects architecture to the everyday places children live, learn, and play. Their books differ widely, yet their motivations consistently converge. Instead of positioning architecture as something children encounter later—through credentials or career paths—these authors approach it as something children are already doing: noticing the world, imagining alternatives, and caring about how places work.
These authors’ voices are important because they contribute to children’s growth long before architecture appears in a classroom—if it appears at all. Through story and illustration, the authors help children trust their curiosity, understand that the built environment is shaped by people, and recognize that their ideas are worth exploring. In doing so, they create the conditions that make early design literacy possible.
Imagination, persistence, and creative trust
Iggy Peck, Architect by Andrea Beaty is the first encounter many children have with architecture as an idea. Beaty does not frame design as something to be earned later through training but as a natural extension of curiosity and persistence—qualities children already possess.
In our conversation, Beaty spoke candidly about how often people misunderstand children’s enthusiasm. The book’s main character, Iggy, has a passion for building that is treated as disruptive by the adults around him, yet it is precisely that persistence that allows his ideas to take shape. “Kids don’t need to be taught how to imagine,” Beaty explained. “They just need to be allowed to keep imagining.”
Beaty also described the book as a deeply collaborative effort, shaped through a close partnership with illustrator David Roberts. Rather than controlling the story’s visuals, she trusted Roberts’ illustrations to expand and reinterpret the text. That creative trust mirrors architectural practice, modeling for young readers that dialogue strengthens ideas.
A similar philosophy appears in Nina Laden’s Roberto the Insect Architect. Laden spoke about constructing her illustrations the way an architect builds—through collage, testing materials, and allowing form to drive meaning. For children, that process communicates something essential: that making is playful, iterative, and worth pursuing even when it does not follow convention.
Perseverance, process, and standing by ideas
Several authors emphasized that architecture is about both imagination and persistence, especially when ideas are challenged or misunderstood.
Brad Meltzer’s I Am I.M. Pei introduces children to architecture through story rather than instruction. Reflecting on his own career, Meltzer shared: “I never thought I would be a writer until someone explained that writing is a real job. That’s how I see I Am I.M. Pei. I hope that there are now children out there who realize that this is a possibility for them—that architecture is a way of life and a way of looking at the world.”
By humanizing Pei and focusing on the public criticism surrounding the Louvre pyramid, which Pei designed, Meltzer shows children that meaningful work often involves standing by ideas before they are widely accepted. And by presenting historical figures as people who made choices, struggled, and listened, Meltzer models a skill essential to good design: the ability to see the world from perspectives beyond one’s own.
That emphasis on perseverance is echoed in Jeanne Walker Harvey’s work. In The Glass Pyramid, Harvey explores Pei’s vision for the Louvre and the resistance it faced. In Maya Lin: Artist–Architect of Light and Lines, she traces the evolution of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, including the criticism Maya Lin encountered as a young designer.
Harvey shared that children are often captivated by unexpected details, like Maya Lin sculpting an early memorial model out of mashed potatoes. These moments demystify architecture, showing that powerful ideas can begin in unconventional ways. “Even highly regarded architects face challenges,” Harvey noted. “I want kids to understand that believing in your ideas matters—even when others don’t right away.”
Together, Meltzer and Harvey present architecture as a process—one that requires patience and the courage to stand by ideas over time.
Belonging, visibility, and multiple paths
For other authors, early exposure to architecture is less about perseverance and more about belonging.
Architect and author Janel A. LeGard spoke openly about growing up without realizing architecture was a viable profession. Writing You Can Be, ME TOO! became a way to name what had once been invisible. “Kids are already designing,” she explained. “They just don’t always have the language for it.” By emphasizing that there is no single way to inhabit the profession, LeGard’s work helps children connect their existing interests to a broader sense of possibility.
To expand on this idea, Mollie Elkman’s The House That She Built reframes architecture as a collaborative effort rather than a singular role. Because her work highlights the many people involved in bringing a building to life, she helps children understand that participation in the built environment takes many forms—and that contribution matters as much as title.
Place, memory, empathy, and learning to see
Several authors approached architecture not as a profession but as a way of understanding people and places.
In Five Stories, Ellen Weinstein—who also illustrated the book—follows a single tenement building across generations. She has described the building as a vessel, one that quietly absorbs layers of memory and daily life as families come and go. By allowing each layer to accumulate, Weinstein helps children see architecture not as static backdrop but as something shaped by—and shaping—the people who inhabit it.
Nick Solis views place through a similarly human-centered lens. In My Town / Mi Pueblo, he documents everyday buildings that are often overlooked or misrepresented. “I hope my books are a record of the past,” he explained. “When buildings are gone, at least in my book, they live on.” His work reframes architecture as an act of attention and respect.
Susan Hughes approaches architecture through observation, helping children slow down and notice how places feel and function. In Walking in the City with Jane and Carmen and the House That Gaudí Built, Hughes shows how form, pattern, and environment shape experience. Together with Weinstein and Solis, she reinforces a central idea: learning to see is foundational to understanding the built environment.
Taken together, these authors are not teaching children how to become architects. They are doing something more foundational: helping children trust their curiosity, recognize that places are shaped by people, and understand that ideas are worth exploring. Long before architecture appears in a classroom or career conversation, these stories help make early design literacy possible.
In the final article of this series, I’ll turn to practice, sharing classroom-ready book and activity pairings architects can use immediately for school visits, career days, STEAM programming, and Architecture Week—building directly on the perspectives these authors so generously shared.
Want to learn more and get involved? Join the K-12 Enthusiasts' group meeting on Feb. 9 at 4pm ET to hear from children’s architecture authors. And share Architecture Week’s virtual read-aloud schedule with your local schools and libraries.
Lori Apfel Cardeli is the principal of LACArch, a residential architecture practice based in Bethesda, Md. She is the Maryland state representative for AIA’s Small Firm Exchange and is deeply engaged in K–12 architecture education through school visits, book drives, and her ongoing project, LACArch’s Little Book Club (@LACArchLittleBookClub).