7 Years of Insight into Designing with Zhenwen Zhang

It’s incredibly humbling. This recognition isn’t just a personal milestone—it’s a validation of the idea that accessibility should be at the forefront of design innovation. The award shines a light on the importance of designing for all, and it affirms that technology like VR can be a powerful tool for empathy and education. It’s also a moment to celebrate the collective effort of everyone who contributed to the project—from testers to collaborators—who believed in the mission.

The award has sparked meaningful conversations with architects, educators, and accessibility advocates. It’s opened doors to partnerships with institutions interested in using VR for inclusive design education. For my team, it’s a morale boost and a reminder that our work can have a real-world impact. It’s also helped position us as thought leaders in the intersection of design, technology, and accessibility—leading to invitations to speak at conferences and contribute to research initiatives.

Experimentation is essential—it’s where innovation lives. For this project, we ventured into uncharted territory by combining VR with a physical wheelchair simulator. It wasn’t just about visualising spaces; it was about feeling them. We prototyped environments, tested them with users of varying mobility, and iterated based on real feedback. That willingness to experiment helped us uncover design flaws that traditional methods would have missed, and ultimately led to a more empathetic and effective tool.

An unusual but powerful source of inspiration came from a childhood memory—watching my grandfather struggle to enter a building with stairs but no ramp. That moment stayed with me and later became the emotional anchor for my work in accessible design. It reminded me that design isn’t just technical—it’s deeply personal.

Design is not a straight line—it’s a loop of discovery, failure, and refinement. It’s deeply human and often invisible. I wish more people understood that good design isn’t just what you see—it’s what you don’t notice because it works so seamlessly. It’s the result of countless decisions, user insights, and iterations. And most importantly, it’s not about the designer—it’s about the people we’re designing for.

It starts with building trust. I listen carefully to client goals, then frame my ideas in terms of user impact and long-term value. I find that when you anchor your vision in data, empathy, and storytelling, clients are more open to bold ideas. It’s not about compromise—it’s about alignment. When both sides understand the “why,” the “how” becomes a shared journey.

One of the biggest challenges was translating complex ADA standards into immersive, intuitive VR experiences. We had to ensure that users could feel the constraints and possibilities of accessible design, not just read about them. We overcame this by collaborating with accessibility experts, conducting user testing with people of diverse abilities, and iterating relentlessly. It was a process of learning, unlearning, and adapting.

I step away from the problem. I sketch, travel, read fiction, or immerse myself in something completely unrelated—like music or cooking. These moments of detachment often lead to unexpected connections. I also find that talking to people outside the design world—teachers, nurses, artists—offers fresh perspectives that reignite my creative energy.

Empathy, curiosity, and inclusivity are my guiding values. Having lived in diverse cultural contexts, I’ve seen how design can either empower or marginalise. I bring that awareness into every project. I also draw from personal experiences—like navigating public spaces with family members who have mobility challenges—which constantly remind me that design must serve real, diverse human needs.

Design with purpose. Don’t chase trends—chase impact. Learn to listen deeply, not just to clients but to users. Stay curious, stay humble, and don’t be afraid to fail. Success isn’t about awards—it’s about creating something that makes someone’s life better, even in a small way.

I’d love to collaborate with Ron Mace, the pioneer of universal design. His work laid the foundation for inclusive environments, and I’d be fascinated to explore how emerging technologies like VR could extend his legacy. His philosophy—that design should be usable by all people, to the greatest extent possible—is something I strive to embody in every project.

I wish more people asked, “How do you know your design is truly inclusive?” My answer: by involving the people it’s meant to serve from day one. Inclusion isn’t a checkbox—it’s a mindset. It means co-creating with users, testing with diverse communities, and being open to uncomfortable truths. That’s how we build designs that don’t just look good—but do good.