[Academian laughed]

I have always been a fan of Ayn Rand’s novel ‘The Fountainhead.’ A novel ostensibly about an architect who refuses to play the nonsensical games he sees in his peers, and always does things his own way because he feels it is the right way to do things, The Fountainhead is an eye-opener in understanding how I approach the world.

I’ve always identified with the character of Howard Roark. Roark is in virtually every respect (with one glaring exception I do not begin to comprehend) an ideal man. His simple honesty about being a visionary genius is compelling and heart-wrenching, and it is made all the more poignant by the knowledge that the world, despising him for his greatness, will attempt to destroy him to preserve its own ego.
Unfortunately, I see within myself not the seeds of Howard Roark, but the seeds of Henry Cameron. I will live the life of a Cameron within the law, and will pay the same price as did he.

I wonder if there is a way to steel myself against the temptation to simply give in and do things the way everyone else does them, even when that way is so wrong as to be laughable, and do as Roark did. Re-reading the very first chapter, in which Roark is expelled from his architecture school for his refusal to design buildings that don’t fit with his philosophy makes me ashamed of my own good grades in an institution that refuses to open its eyes to the glorious truths which await our discipline once the chaff of the old guard is swept away. Each high mark symbolizes my loss of integrity to the cold institution which seeks nothing more than the destruction of individuality and vision, in favor of the conformity of ugly falsity.

There must be a way to regain the Roark-like confidence and diffidence I once possessed. I will find a way.