In Context

In Context

“Caring is not a special kind of practice, but a species activity that includes everything that we do to maintain, continue, and repair our world.”

Joan Tronto, Moral Boundaries: A Political Argument for an Ethic of Care

design for belonging

.

design for recognition

.

design for collective wellbeing

.

design for belonging . design for recognition . design for collective wellbeing .

  • I am an interdisciplinary designer, strategist, and researcher examining how cities can design infrastructures of interdependence—spatial and organizational systems that enable caregiving across the lifespan without commodification or collapse.

    Over the past decade, I have worked across technology, education, and community development, building programs and infrastructures that center equity and human dignity. Through this practice, I became increasingly focused on a fundamental question: How do we design systems that value care as productive work—not despite productivity, but as its foundation?

    As the founder and executive director of a pan-Canadian education nonprofit, I spent seven 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 can design render care visible, valued, and sustained in systems that rarely recognize it as foundational?

    This question now guides my work on urban care infrastructure.

    I am drawn to the intersections of design justice, infrastructure studies, and care ethics, particularly as they manifest in urban spatial and organizational systems. In an era defined by automation and demographic shifts, my work examines how cities can build infrastructures of interdependence—enabling care across the lifespan through participatory design, spatial intervention, and governance 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 can design enable us to care for children, aging parents, and each other—while remaining economically and civically engaged—in cities designed as if care happens elsewhere?

  • 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 automation reshaping labor markets, this commitment to reflexivity becomes even more essential. It calls for designers to question not only what systems optimize for efficiency, but what they might erode—like the time, space, and social infrastructure needed for caregiving—and to continually center those whose labor sustains communities but remains unseen.

    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.