It is the start of a New Year, everything still smells fresh and most things looking forward are theoretically in place for an amazing year … at least I think so. Since it is first podcast episode of 2025, today’s conversation is more of an introspective look into a career and just how bad or good things have gone over the last 30+ years. While this is not a look into my own personal diary, it should provide you with a framework when you decide to look at whatever it is you’ve got going on as well. Welcome to Episode 167: How Did We Get Here?

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I have a guest on today’s episode as my typical co-host Andrew Hawkins, who was supposed to be in Japan during the time we needed to record, fell sick enough that he had to cancel this trip and is currently recovering at home. To that end, I have another good friend of mine sitting in to play point/counterpoint in today’s conversation. I have asked friend, neighbor, and just like me, a Principal and Senior Project Designer at BOKA Powell, and 3-time participant on the podcast Lane Acree to sit in and hopefully not point out just how dumb I am. Given today’s topic, I thought it would be interesting to see how two people who didn’t even know each other a few years ago both ended up in the same place, despite the reasons behind the journey being completely different.

Bob Borson one fateful Christmas morning ...

The Beginning jump to 05:06

When I reflect on how I got started in architecture, it all goes back to the moment my dad gave me a drawing table at age five. From that day on, I knew I wanted to be an architect (he might have been angling for engineer but that's on him for not being more specific). I never questioned whether I would go to college—it was a given in my house—but I did face doubts that the profession that I had decided on might not be the right fit for me once I actually started my freshman year. I wasn’t as driven as my classmates, and I began to worry that I wasn’t cut out for architecture after all. Looking back, it wasn’t that I lacked ability; I just wasn’t putting in the same level of commitment. My parents had been strict, so when I got to Austin, I had all this freedom and indulged in everything the city had to offer.

Eventually, I hit crisis point at the end of my freshman year and and took a year off from design studio during my sophomore year. I continued my other classes, but I needed that break to figure out what I truly wanted. When my junior year began, something clicked. I realized I wasn’t actually bad at design—I just needed to put in the work. That realization changed everything. It was a lesson in prioritizing my goals, a skill that still matters to me to this day.

Meanwhile, Lane took a different path. He discovered architecture at a young age—around sixth grade—when he witnessed the process of designing his family’s home with a draftsman. From that point on, he immersed himself in art classes and drafting throughout high school and then once in college, he ended up landing a job at a small architecture office where he spent every summer and holiday break. That real-world experience gave him a big advantage over classmates who never set foot in a firm until after graduation.

I find Lane’s background intriguing because he gravitated towards the use of computers, even when some of his professors believed technology stifled creativity. He taught himself tools like 3D Studio Max and came out of school with cutting-edge skills at a time when most people were still using the drafting board. By contrast, we didn't even have the option to use computer software while I was in college (despite only being only 10 years older than Lane). My focus was never on starting my own firm ... I just had 3 goals for myself once I graduated. I wanted to make a good living (which meant a yearly salary of $100,000), see one of my buildings get published in a history book, and—believe it or not—buy a jet ski. I don't know a jet ski made the list considering that I had never ridden one at that time and here I am 30+ years later and I have still never ridden one!

Lane Acree with his wife Mary, and Daughters Ella and Anna

Making Decisions jump to 28:54

When I look back on the phase of my life where the considerations of other, as well as non-architecture related life goals start coming up, it’s all about coming to terms with the reality that not everything I planned. In school, I thought I’d jump right into groundbreaking design work and immediately start checking off my life goals. Instead, I found myself in a small firm, meeting with clients on my own and cobbling together entire sets of drawings from old files. I felt simultaneously exhilarated by how fast my responsibilities were growing and completely out of my depth because I didn’t have a clue how to do half of what was suddenly on my plate.

During this period, life decisions started colliding with my career path. I got married, dreamed of buying a house, and suddenly realized that a steady, decent salary mattered a lot more to me than I expected. I jumped from job to job, chasing raises and opportunities, only to discover that money alone couldn’t make me feel fulfilled. By the time I was 30, I’d handled design work, billing, contract writing—you name it. Ironically, having learned those higher-level tasks so early sometimes worked against me when I looked for new opportunities. Employers wanted someone to knock out construction drawings; they already had people for contracts and business operations and these skills that I had unintentionally being developing were not valued, at least not in the marketplace of those looking to hire a 30-something architect.

Meanwhile, Lane was going through a big life shift of his own. He graduated, married his wife, and had his first daughter in quick succession. He took a good offer from a small firm that recognized his value, but ultimately decided to move to Dallas for bigger project opportunities. We both realized that while architecture school might give you broad aspirations—maybe you want to do skyscrapers or iconic museums—what you actually end up doing can be shaped by where you land and the life choices you make in the meantime.

Looking back, I see how easy it is to get swept up in dreams of “grand design” or high-profile projects. It’s also easy to dismiss residential or small-scale work until you realize how much you can learn about every facet of architecture by rolling up your sleeves in a tiny office. Ultimately, all these experiences taught me that there isn’t a single right way to build a career in architecture—there are countless paths, each full of twists you rarely see coming. And sometimes, even goals that at the time seemed incredibly important (like buying that jet ski) take a back seat while you figure out how to balance ambition, family, and the next big move life will throw your way.

Change in Direction jump to 38:38

The starting point for this phase was the realization that I was ready for a change. I’d worked at a firm I respected, but I wanted more: more responsibility, more leadership responsibilities, and a say in how the business was run. Ultimately, I went back to work with a long-time employer, and in some ways conspirator, where I was exposed to more of the ins and outs of running a small firm—from billing to design to overall business strategy. Eventually, that situation began to wear on me because I began to disagree fundamentally with some of the choices being made. For the record, and since I am the one writing this post, I am completely aware of how this makes me appear ... demanding, uncooperative, and possibly demanding in a way that I hadn't earned. I don't believe any of those things are actually true, I just hadn't found the right place where my thoughts on the things that were starting to matter to me aligned with other people in a leadership/ownership position.

I eventually reached out to Andrew Bennett—one of the owners at BOKA Powell, where I now work. Despite Andrew and I both going to the same college, we never met in school and he reached out to me because of this website. He and I had connected a few times by this point and with the questions I was asking myself, I reached out to him to get some advice on how to make a change. I wasn’t sure if my wide-ranging small-firm experience would translate to a larger operation. Much to my surprise, Andrew told me I was a good fit for a bigger firm like BOKA Powell, and I started to see how my skill set could be an asset rather than a liability.

By this time, I had started to recognize that what mattered most to me wasn’t just designing buildings (although I love it still); it was figuring out how to shape a practice that treats its people well and fosters a culture of growth. Over time, I’d discovered that I actually love the management and mentorship side of architecture. It’s thrilling to pop into a design charrette and help move a project forward, but it’s equally fulfilling to set up policies, refine processes, and ensure employees thrive. I believe that these thoughts and aspirations are a direct result of the years of time I spent writing blog posts for this site. The development of communication skills, while learning that I experience great satisfaction from helping others, lead to a fundamental shift - or maybe a recognition - in how I wanted to start spending more and more of my time.

Lane was on a parallel track, transitioning from being a pure “maker” to a leader who guides others. We both recognized how much bigger the goals become once you shift your focus from my success to our success. Rather than obsess over individual projects, I now see them as milestones in the evolution of the entire firm. At this stage, I’m less concerned with my own design ego and more interested in how we can collectively become greater than the sum of our parts.