I don’t really “celebrate” New Year’s in the way most people do. No fireworks, no loud parties, no countdowns at midnight. For me, the turning of the year is quieter, more internal. It’s a moment of syukur (deep gratitude) – a pause to acknowledge that, Alhamdulillah, we made it through.

2025 was a year of heavy lessons. Floods that devastated our city. Field trips that restored my hope. We survived it all.

So instead of a celebration, today is an evaluation. I’m sitting, looking back at what worked and what didn’t, and writing down hopes for 2026. Not resolutions – which often feel like burdens we abandon by February – but hopes. Hopes feel like a compass; they give us direction.

This year, my compass points toward three specific mountains I want to climb.

“We must be willing to let go of the life we planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us.” — Joseph Campbell

First, a professional milestone closer to home. This year, I am setting my sights on the next significant step in my academic career: achieving the rank of Lektor Kepala (Associate Professor).

To some, this might sound like just administrative jargon or a title chase. But in the world of academia, rank is about capacity and voice. It’s about having the standing to advocate more effectively for the things I care about – curriculum reform and building a true scientific culture.

Becoming an Associate Professor means my research on computational design and disaster resilience carries more weight. It validates the work I’ve been doing on bamboo, on flood mitigation, on educational reform. It opens doors for more significant grants and collaborations.

It’s a steep climb. The administrative requirements (Kum), the publications, the teaching load – it’s a rigorous process. But it’s a necessary step. I want to lead by example for my junior colleagues and my students: that we must constantly upgrade ourselves, not for the title, but for the impact that title allows us to make.

“Intelligence plus character – that is the goal of true education.” — Martin Luther King, Jr.

Beyond the title, there is the hunger for knowledge. The quiet ambition that won’t go away: to continue my studies abroad.

I want to dive deep into the specific intersection of architecture that obsesses me – where computational design meets sustainability.

Why abroad? It’s not because I don’t love Indonesia. It’s because I love it that I need to go. I need to see how other cultures solve the unsolvable. I want to be in studios where “sustainable” isn’t a buzzword but a mathematical mandate. I want to argue about algorithms and ecology with people who don’t think those two things are opposites.

This isn’t just about getting another degree. It’s about sharpening my tools. Because when I return, I don’t want to just be an architect who designs buildings. I want to be an architect who designs solutions for the complex, climate-changed reality of North Sumatra.

But these personal dreams – rank and degrees – are ultimately about service. They are about the students I see every week in studio.

I look at them – struggling with bamboo joints, wrestling with site plans – and I see so much potential. My goal is to bring back knowledge and authority that transforms them.

I want to produce graduates who are “tangguh” (resilient).

I want students who don’t just ask “How high can I build?” but “How does this building heal the land?”

I want them to be competitive globally, armed with the latest computational tools, but grounded locally, with empathy for the environment. Imagine a generation of North Sumatran architects who can code a parametric facade and understand the water table of a peatland. That’s the legacy I want to build.

“Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world.” — Nelson Mandela

Finally, there is my studio practice.

I envision a professional service that walks the talk. I don’t want my studio to just be a place where we draft blueprints. I want it to be a laboratory for sustainable computational design.

I want to prove that we can design buildings that are data-driven yet deeply human. Buildings that use algorithms to minimize waste. Buildings that fit into their environment so perfectly, they feel like they grew there.

This is the professional service I want to offer: architecture that is responsible, cutting-edge, and respectful of nature. No more “business as usual” design that ignores the climate crisis. We need to build better.

“As an architect you design for the present, with an awareness of the past, for a future which is essentially unknown.” — Norman Foster

So, here it is. Written down so I can’t run away from it.

2026 is about elevation. Elevating my rank to Lektor Kepala. Elevating my knowledge through further study. Elevating my students’ capacity. Elevating my professional practice.

It’s scary to say these things out loud. The path to Associate Professor is hard. Applying for PhDs abroad is daunting. Running a sustainable studio is risky.

But looking back at 2025 – at the floods, at the resilience of nature, at the eyes of the orangutans we visited – I know that staying comfortable is not an option.

We have work to do.

Bismillah. Let’s make this year count.