Diamond's Open Book:
Building Black Worlds
Diamond E. Harris is a multidisciplinary designer that centers herself at the intersection of innovation in architecture, interiors, and social impact design. Her work focuses on creating spaces that dispel Blackness as a monolith while embracing the fullness of Black identity.
Open Book is a series shining a light on the work, lives, and thoughts of the interesting people we cross paths with. You never know, you may make a new friend in the space one day.
This interview has been edited for clarity and concision.
Interview by Michelene Wilkerson; Edited by Branda Ayo; Photography by Katherine Pekala.
It’s All About the Joy & Authenticity
I’m naturally a joyful person, and for me, joy isn’t just about always being happy. It’s about seeing the bigger picture and being present with it. I hate being in a space that feels weighed down, not because I think everything should be perfect, but because I genuinely love joy. Joy comes from being aware of where you are in the moment, paying attention to the things around you, whether it’s people, plants, or spaces. It’s about appreciating what’s in front of you, even when things aren’t exactly how you imagined.
I believe in showing up as my authentic self, no matter what. This is something I try to bring into every space I enter and every space I create. I want environments where there’s room for vulnerability, where I can be real. When you’re present and open to your surroundings, things start to make more sense, and you begin to see more clearly what truly matters in your life. You find that alignment with who you are and what you’re meant to do.
My focus isn’t on fitting into the norms or trying to be something I’m not. It’s about creating spaces that feel true to us, spaces where Black people can exist authentically and connect with their surroundings in a meaningful way. It’s not about putting up a front or conforming to expectations. It’s about embracing our identity fully and allowing that to shape how we move through the world, both individually and as a community.
Is This Black Enough?
I’m passionate about reimagining how Black people live and interact within their spaces. I’ve always been intrigued by the behaviors and patterns that occur when people inhabit a space together. My interest isn’t just in architecture or core design; it’s in the everyday actions, how people move, interact, and live within their environments. Growing up in a large family, I was always organizing things, like the endless dishes we had, just to make life a little more manageable. That sense of organization and the desire to create order from chaos has influenced my approach to design and innovation today. I’m interested in creating spaces that reflect our culture and way of life, not just adapting to trends that don’t resonate with who we are.
What drives me is a commitment to challenging the lack of representation in traditional design spaces. I’ve noticed that many design principles and aesthetics are not created with us in mind. In the design world, I’ve often noticed a lack of true representation. Most trends don’t come from spaces occupied by minorities. This has always bothered me because, if you look at African architecture, for example, it’s full of color and intricacy, yet we often end up with blank, characterless spaces. I believe that rather than trying to fit into existing trends, we should be defining our own rules and creating spaces that truly reflect our culture. We don’t need inclusion to validate our existence; we can simply do what we do best, create, innovate, and let that speak for itself. My hope is to see more spaces that are built with us in mind, spaces where Black existence is at the center, not an afterthought.
Innovation vs Comfort
One of the significant challenges I see today is that we’re still asking for permission to innovate our own existence. This mindset holds us back because it requires us to seek validation from systems that were never designed for us in the first place. For instance, I once proposed redesigning a sink to better serve the needs of Black households, something as simple as washing hair more comfortably. But even in a space meant for innovation, I was told it wasn’t necessary. This kind of thinking perpetuates a cycle where we keep modifying and adapting our needs to fit within predefined structures rather than creating new structures that truly serve us. I believe we need to stop diluting our original purposes and instead focus on building a future that centers our experiences and needs.
The Future Looks Black
If you look at the history of Black spaces, especially since the 1950s with redlining, nothing has really changed. We’re still living in the same neighborhoods defined by those red lines, spaces that were never meant to serve us. When you study redlining, you see that the physical space and access to it haven’t changed much. We still see the same patterns of segregation and economic disparity. Even now, we face challenges like gentrification, where our communities are reshaped and displaced, and we’re left asking why. The issue isn’t just about physical space, it’s about who is considered in the design of these spaces and whose needs are met.
Our communities have been forced to be resourceful, to modify and edify our environments to suit our needs because the original designs never considered us. It’s time to move beyond these limitations and create something entirely new, spaces where Black people are not just included but are the principal focus. That’s the future I want to build, a future where we can be our full selves, not in response to exclusion, but in celebration of our unique identities and experiences.