Design and Social Justice: Wanona Satcher on Entrepreneurship and Designing Generational Change

By Amy Stone

Wanona Satcher is CEO and Founder of Mākhers Studio, a green manufacturing and modular design-build company. She is a graduate of Auburn University’s College of Architecture, Design, & Construction, and of the Dartmouth College Tuck School of Business Diversity Business Program. Her 17-year professional career is a combination of urban design, landscape architecture, and civic engagement.

Wanona has written for the Huffington Post and participated in both the CityLab-Aspen Institute and Bloomberg Philanthropies National Innovation Program. Wanona was featured in Inc Magazine, Forbes Magazine and was a Next City Vanguard. She is a Senior Fellow through the Summit Series. In her interview, Wanona speaks with Amy Stone about building the inrastructure needed for the next generation to be successful, advising those just starting their careers to focus on the problems they want to solve.

AS: How did you get interested in landscape architecture and city planning?

WS: I was naturally attracted to drawing structures and building cities on the floor when I was a kid. I used my cars and trucks — especially my old dump truck that my grandparents bought me for forty cents at a local pharmacy here in south Atlanta — to supply crayons to use as street cones. I used the Barbie dolls as speed bump. I didn't like them anyways! I would spend hours on the floor putting together cities but not really know what I was doing. As kids, we don’t necessarily know how to articulate it.

I had never heard of landscape architecture. I had heard about architecture and I thought that’s what I was supposed to be doing. I started in architecture at Auburn. Once I understood more about landscape architecture, about the difference in scale and perspective, I switched to that. I love the opportunities for me here. I love looking at everything as an ecosystem and a collection of different systems connected within that — especially the social piece. It’s the intersection of social and society and design that is so important.

What did you learn about yourself while studying landscape architecture and city planning at Auburn?

In school, I delved into the social and racial justice issues and historical land use policies that were not equitable. I was really excited about how all those things intersected. I learned how much I can utilize design as a tool for social good and a tool for change. That led me to what I’m doing now.

To effect social change, everyone doesn’t have to be on the front lines protesting. Everyone doesn’t have to be a poet. Everybody doesn’t have to tell their story that way. It’s ok to know your role as something different. While everyone is needed and everyone deserves to be at multiple tables, people might focus their opportunities, their time, and their learnings on breaking down barriers and breaking down systems that are not equitable. For me it’s more about being professionally trained to use design to build new systems.

Also, I’m proud that I was the first African American in the history of Auburn's program to graduate in landscape architecture and city planning, a dual-degree program. No one really celebrated that — so I had to celebrate it on my own.

How did you get started in your career?

I had a somewhat typical trajectory. I started working in the private sector for a small multi-disciplinary firm, but it wasn’t a great fit for several reasons. Next, I ended up getting a job in Research Triangle Park in Durham, North Carolina. It was a large interdisciplinary firm of about 250 people. At the time, I was the was the only African American female, but I met the most amazing people and worked with such a diverse group. I loved that firm and found things about myself I didn’t know before. I learned I thrive in environments that are multi-disciplinary. Design is beautiful in that sense. I absolutely loved how all the disciplines and perspectives came together in one project. It’s difficult to be taught that. It was the first time I had a job that prepared me to take the licensing exams.

The recession hit and like a lot of people in 2008, I don't know how it was going to work. I had just purchased my house! I ended up starting a small business that was focused on community development. That small business opportunity got me heavily involved with community engagement work in the neighborhood and City of Durham. I became an entrepreneur out of necessity.

“I love looking at everything as an ecosystem and a collection of different systems connected within that – especially the social piece. It’s the intersection of society and design that is so important.”

— Wanona Satcher

That work led me to doing some interesting volunteer teaching middle-schoolers about design and about the inequities of why you live the way you do. I was getting them excited about doing design and potentially becoming young black and brown kids in this space. One student I met first said to me “I don’t understand why I have to care about my community. I just want to get out of here. Nobody cared about me so why should I care?” I said that’s a valid statement. I didn’t argue or debate. He had every right to feel that way. By the end of the year he said, “I understand now why I have to care. If I don’t care, nobody else will. I understand how construction and design can help that.” That’s all I needed to hear.

I ended up finally getting another job for a short period of time in landscape architecture. They had just enough work for me to get the required credits for my exams. My boss said he wanted to help me become a woman of color in this space. Luckily, I was let go right at the time when the City of Durham hired me. The department that I worked for was called Neighborhood Improvement Services (NIS). It involves community engagement, division, fair housing division, and code enforcement. I focused on community engagement and created the Urban Innovation Center. We also created symposia and events that brought the community together in creative ways. We had the longest dinner table in the state – that brought a lot of people together. Again, I was using design as a tool to be able to put strategy towards something where you don’t know the outcome.

I moved on from work in the public sector in 2016 and was ready to come back home. I ended up starting and focusing on starting my company. I started as a non-profit but changed it the next year to a for-profit model called Mākhers Studio. We have been focused on modular innovative shipping container spaces. We love modular because we know land prices are still increasing and construction costs are increasing. We focus on affordable housing and localizing supply chairs, democratizing access to community development, and scaling production for an affordable product.

I’m thinking a lot about how can we create as designers and thinkers in social justice spaces at the intersection of landscape architecture, industrial designers, and industrial engineers. How can we make sure kids, especially black brown and indigenous kids, don’t have to leave their communities to be successful? Or if they do, how can they come back and still thrive? For me – small scale and big impact happens at the scale of housing; everything starts at home. We are talking about owning our own narratives and owning our own spaces. That’s really the theory and thesis behind Mākhers Studio.

Looking back, what have been your biggest challenges?

Realizing that I am enough — that has been a challenge. There are situations I have been put in that seem intended uniquely for me. They haven’t been the easiest to encounter, but they’ve shown me where I’m needed and why.

Having enough money and enough resources has been a challenge. I’m running this company like a tech company. I’m pitching and going after investing dollars, which isn’t the typical way a business in the construction industry is run. I’ve been putting myself out there and earning money to be successful. It can be slow-going — community building isn’t where investors think they should put their money. It’s been a barrier.

What have been the highlights?

We found some of those investors! We found organizations focused on women-owned businesses for impact work. We received investments from places that really believe in what we are doing by investing in people and communities. With that round of funding, we were able to build a 12,000 sf manufacturing facility here in southwest Atlanta where my family is from. That facility will allow us to build off-site. We’ll be able to build seven homes in six weeks. We are looking getting a second facility in motion.

That has led to some interesting business to business opportunities. We are looking at institution clients and real estate developers who are more invested in putting money into housing. We couldn’t do that without the right space and equipment. That just really set off everything else in motion.

“How can we make sure kids, especially black brown and indigenous kids, don’t have to leave their communities to be successful? Or if they do, how can they come back and still thrive?”

— Wanona Satcher

Who are you admiring right now?

I’m always so busy admiring the past and all the women who got us here — a lot of my admiration goes to women. I get inspiration from women in other industries: Vicki Saunders, the CEO and Founder of SheEO, who is trying to change the ratio and narrative of who needs to be funded; Ruth Ann Harnisch is another investor who runs the Harnisch Foundationv and funds women who are producers and journalists. I also admire women who are in spaces that tell stories and who are good at telling stories.

What is the core mission you want to have in the world?

My core mission is to inspire people to know how to gentrify their own shit and to do it! That means I inspire people to know how to build, design, develop, and implement their own supply chain, their own products — and see them do it. You are building for your needs; you are not just consuming. You are producing things that can support local generational wealth. You are producing young scientists and young designers. You are creating the infrastructure needed for our next generations to be successful. Indigenous people have a focus on building for seven generations. We have to build! I hopefully can inspire someone to pick up a tool or to create their own tool and make a crap ton of money out of that. We need to be paid for the work and the cultural experiences that we have created. We deserve a return on that investment, especially women. I really want to inspire that spark.

What do you wish you knew when you started out that you know now?

The word ‘no’ is a nutrient. I’ve learned as an entrepreneur that ‘no’ is so healthy! It creates boundaries that are necessary for rest. You need rest to be good at what you do. ‘No’ allows you to focus and to be good at what you are doing. I need ‘no’ to be able to focus on my family and on me as my own woman. To my younger self, I’d say, “Be excited about ‘no’. Start practicing saying it. Start interpreting it as a good thing.”

What advice do you have for those who are starting out?

Stick with it! I will say that applies academically, professionally, and especially as an entrepreneur: I stick with it.

Only become an entrepreneur to solve a problem. If you think you are going to become an entrepreneur to make money, you are sorely mistaken. That’s not how it works. Karen Cahn, the CEO of IFundWomen told me that it usually takes five years to be an overnight success. She’s right. It takes about five years to start seeing something come to fruition; then you have to sustain it. The spark to keep you going comes when you are doing it all to solve a problem.