The sight of thousands of passengers in the long lines at Heathrow Airport, JFK, and LAX, snaking through the arrival halls or waiting patiently outdoors in rain slickers on August 10 produced a familiar kind of dread mixed with acceptance: Since September 11, 2001, our world has irrevocably changed.

This summer, five superintendents of education gathered in a conference room in Washington, D.C.

The AIA convention in Los Angeles exceeded the record books, with more than 25,000 attendees enjoying the cool California air. Members packed the trade show floor, gathered for continuing education sessions, and jammed the Art Mile and other social and artistic venues.

Standing in the construction dust of the megasite near the roaring heart of the city, watching the massive building rising from the scaffolding, then surveying the scene in relation to the urban core, the comparison is inevitable: Beijing is getting what New York should have built: the long-awaited CCTV headquarters.

For architects and for architectural historians, critical lessons reside in the tangible.

The conversation with my fellow traveler was breezing along as two frequent fliers compared notes on the American home.

We cannot design ourselves out of Katrina. No matter how well intentioned we architects may be, no matter how many plans and volunteer hours we commit, the scale and complexity of this disaster exceeds the grasp of design alone, despite the fact that many of us are trying hard.

No branch of art covers a wider field than architecture; no branch ministers more to the comfort, luxury, and convenience of the people; yet none receives less attention and encouragement from public sources in America.”

To drive through contemporary Kuwait today, you could hardly guess the context.

Several events that occurred in November point out that green is growing up.