The first time I realized design was something more profound than aesthetics was during a typography class at the Rochester Institute of Technology (RIT). My professor, Anna Jordan, said something that stayed with me: “Every alphabet is a combination of shapes. Many shapes come together and fit perfectly to create the identity of a type.” That sentence unlocked something for me. I stopped seeing design as decoration and started seeing it as identity—a system of meaning built from emotion, history, and story.
Since then, my work as a designer and educator has been about exploring that intersection: where form meets feeling, where culture meets technology, and where storytelling can shape the way we grow, think, and connect.
Why I Started Researching Visual Storytelling and Childhood Development
Right now, I’m working on an ongoing research project that asks a layered but straightforward question:
What role does visual design play in shaping the minds of children?
I started with stories from the Panchatantra—ancient Indian animal fables I grew up reading. My goal was to reimagine them through visual storytelling, incorporating elements such as typography, voice, shape, color, and even shadow puppetry. But as I created it, I began wondering how these visuals impact the child’s experience of the story.
What do different colors evoke? How do shapes guide attention? Does a voiceover enhance empathy? How might these choices affect a child’s memory, cognitive development, or emotional connection?
These questions have now evolved into a research practice rooted in design psychology, cultural preservation, and educational accessibility.
I’m not a neuroscientist. I’m a designer. But I believe we have a responsibility to think about the minds we’re designing for, especially young ones.
On Teaching, Mentoring, and the Quiet Power of Being Seen
I recently graduated with my Master of Fine Arts (MFA) in Visual Communication Design from RIT. While I was there, I served as a Design Graduate Assistant, and now I volunteer as a mentor in the Graphic Design Club’s Mentor + Mentee program.
Mentorship has been one of the most grounding parts of my journey. Every time I meet with a mentee, I’m reminded that design education is not just about critique or technique—it’s about trust. It’s about listening, encouraging, and sometimes just saying, “Yes, that weird idea is worth exploring.”
As a woman of color and an international student, I know what it feels like to be in unfamiliar rooms. That’s why I care deeply about creating space—whether it’s in classrooms, studios, or clubs—where students feel safe to take creative risks and tell their own stories.
What I’m Carrying Forward
I’m still learning. I’m still asking questions. But here’s what I know for sure:
The design is not neutral. Every choice carries weight.
Culture is not a constraint—it’s a compass.
Children deserve beautiful, intentional, and thoughtful design experiences.
Teaching is not about authority—it’s about presence.
As I look ahead, I aim to continue combining research, storytelling, and cultural design to create work that is accessible, empathetic, and grounded in curiosity. I’m especially interested in how tools like augmented reality and motion graphics can reframe traditional narratives without diluting their depth.
A Note to Fellow Designers
If you're reading this and wondering where your voice fits in the design world, it does. It always has.
Whether you're telling stories through pixels, paper, code, or clay—your background, your language, your humor, your obsessions—they matter. They're your design superpowers.
Thanks for reading. Let’s stay curious.
