I am an interdisciplinary designer, strategist, and researcher interested in how design can make invisible forms of care, learning, and relational work visible, valued, and sustained.

Over the past decade, I have worked across education, technology, and community development, building programs and infrastructures that help people and organizations collaborate with greater equity and purpose. In doing so, I became increasingly preoccupied with the question of what we choose to value (and how) as communities and as a society.

As the founder and executive director of a pan-Canadian education nonprofit, I spent eight years designing participatory learning experiences and impact frameworks that reached over 6,000 equity-deserving youth, educators, and community members. What began as a social innovation venture gradually evolved into a living inquiry:
how might design and evaluation practices render care, learning, and belonging legible in systems that rarely recognize them as productive forms of work?

This question continues to guide my practice and research. I am drawn to the intersections of design justice, valuation studies, and care ethics, particularly as they relate to spaces that support families, educators, and communities. In an era defined by automation and digital acceleration, my work explores how physical and hybrid spaces of care and learning might sustain belonging, creativity, and collective wellbeing, reminding us that the future of work is also a question of care.

As a white-presenting, neurotypical woman and immigrant settler living in Tiohtià:ke (Montréal), I recognize that my design practice is shaped by privilege, cultural distance, and ongoing processes of unlearning. I believe design is never neutral, but is rather a mirror of the designer’s lived experiences, assumptions, and worldviews.

Through my collaborations with educators, youth, and Indigenous partners across Turtle Island, I have learned that reflexivity is not an intellectual exercise, but a form of care. It requires humility, deep listening, and a willingness to sit with discomfort. These lessons have profoundly shaped how I approach both design and research, reminding me that the act of designing systems - whether technological or social - is always relational and moral in nature.

In the context of emerging AI systems and data-driven infrastructures, this commitment to reflexivity becomes even more essential. It calls for designers to question not only what systems can optimize, but what they might erode, and to continually center the human, the local, and the unseen in the pursuit of innovation.

I was born and raised in Romania, in a small town surrounded by the rhythms of multigenerational care. As a teenager, I lived and studied across Nigeria, Ghana, Tanzania, and Switzerland, experiences that expanded my understanding of community, resilience, and belonging.

After completing a B.A. in History and Political Science at McGill University and an Ed.M. in Learning Design, Innovation, and Technology at Harvard University, I returned to Montréal in 2022. I now live here as a mother, community member, and lifelong learner.

Each day, I reflect on how we might design systems that hold, nourish, and dignify the people who sustain them. My research and my life are guided by this question: how might design help us preserve the relational and human dimensions of life and work in an increasingly automated world?