Globally, the European Commission reports, a truckload of textiles heads to landfills or is incinerated every single second.

The fashion industry accounts for some 10 percent of greenhouse gas emissions worldwide.

Less than 1 percent of the materials used to make clothing is recycled, according to a report by the Ellen MacArthur Foundation.

The best way to keep clothes out of a landfill? Don’t make them.

Picture this: Not long ago, it wasn’t unusual for a customer to walk into an H&M store and not be able to find a basic white t-shirt in their size. Why? Like most long-established retail operations, H&M was operating with a push model—placing seasonal bets on what the demand for a given item of clothing might be, locking orders far in advance, and hoping that they were able to sell out. Make a mistake in that kind of model, though, and you can end up with customers unable to find the basics they rely on, or excess inventory you can’t sell. That’s a problem for the business, but for the environment as well—and one that doesn’t fit H&M’s aggressive sustainability goals.

Though H&M had tried to tackle the problem before, the launch of the H&M Group Design Studio, co-created with IDEO, gave the retailer the confidence to go after it again. The team started out by mapping out the complex network of people that make up its supply chain across the globe, meeting with everyone from designers to garment suppliers, logistics managers, and even folks selling the final product in H&M stores. 

They then created an algorithm for more precise ordering, as well as a tool that provides a shared view of information. Instead of placing orders, the new automated flow—dubbed “Cruise Control"—allows staff to work with a demand forecast that gives them more time to focus on customer-centric operations, like providing guidance and inspiration. It also makes it easier for H&M to follow the demands of the market, and place much more accurate bets on what consumers will want, when. Already, H&M has significantly increased sales while cutting excess inventory—a result that improves its bottom line, as well as its environmental impact.

Estimates project that by 2030, global apparel consumption will hit 102 million tons.

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22%

reduction in stock during a pilot program

34%

increase in sales during a pilot program

To foster creative projects that spoke to the needs of local communities and environments, the BSA began to engage its members in collaborative, user-led design. The organization launched its first-ever innovation challenge, putting out a call for all members to pitch their ideas for projects in the built environment.

The BSA expected those pitches to have dollar signs attached. To the organizer’s surprise, only one asked for funding. The rest requested less tangible, but equally meaningful support: advice, connections, specific expertise. Those are resources that the BSA has aplenty, but hadn’t learned how to leverage well.

From that first go at an innovation challenge, the BSA learned how to better support its members. It also learned that to lead with purpose and make strategic choices, one must develop the confidence to say no. Instead of spreading itself thin across many projects, the organization decided to take small steps, focusing on one initiative at a time, so that it can deliver focused impact and stay true to its evolving mission.

With 36% of global energy going to buildings and 8% of global emissions caused by cement alone, the architectural community is inextricably intertwined with both the causes and solutions related to climate change.

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According to a survey conducted by the AIA, the architecture profession in the US is less diverse than the population as a whole. This lack of diversity can contribute to a disconnect between architects and the communities they serve.

31

submissions received from innovators in the Boston region working on equity and sustainability challenges

5

innovation teams invited to pitch ideas

The resources that NYU students needed were organized by administrative department, and buried on disparate websites and calendars. But students don’t think in terms of departments—they just need to know where their classes are.

All of this became patently clear as IDEO shadowed students. Team members visited classrooms, walked with them through their days, and hosted pop-ups in highly trafficked areas to get ideas from passersby. That helped the team develop a common understanding of the overall student journey and grounded employees in the key moments that can either make or break a student’s experience. Visualizing their journey helped departments gain a shared understanding of the fractured communications challenge and develop possible solutions.

To synthesize those insights, we formed cross-functional action learning groups, challenging existing practices at the university and coming up with new ways of working. Participants came from a diverse set of departments, including enrollment management, student affairs, marketing and communications, IT, global inclusion, student services, the provost’s office, digital communications, and more. The cohorts sketched early hypotheses and got feedback from faculty, administrators, and students from all of NYU's undergraduate schools to refine initial concepts.

Collaborating with students gave staff a first-hand look at what students were struggling with and a way to engage students directly in addressing those challenges. Just as importantly, there was an overall culture shift at NYU: Administrators started with questions instead of agendas, came together around a table, and reached beyond their job descriptions to meet the needs of students.

First-year students reported receiving hundreds of paper forms, and email from more than 70 unique senders.

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NYU needed to offer students the right resources at the right time—and collaborate to serve them as a unified administration.

New services

in-production include centralized calendars, dynamic campus mapping, and customized notifications

Design-thinking cohorts

now support the student experience

Diversity alone isn’t enough—in marketing or any other facet of business. Today’s brands must authentically engage with and create the conditions for co-design with existing communities.

That sort of deep, meaningful engagement with customers doesn’t happen over Instagram. It requires a playbook, a prototype, and a healthy amount of trust. So, IDEO worked with Athleta and Gap to tap into the wisdom of a council of women who represent intersectional identities and lived experiences. The council surfaced powerful insights for the brand, like the fact that active women don’t need a brand to empower them—they already feel powerful.

After only a few weeks, Athleta experienced the difference between research and a truly reciprocal relationship. The way their brand engages with communities is adding depth, understanding, and authenticity to Athleta’s content, products, and experiences. And women can feel the difference.

76% of US adults say that the media promotes an unattainable body image for women.

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Fewer than 1 in 10 businesses review for inclusion as part of product design and marketing campaigns.

>2X

user growth in 2022

13,000+

Athleta WellPro well-being providers active on the platform

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For more than two years, with the help of a group of designers from IDEO, we and our colleagues from the Drucker Institute had been planning and developing Bendable, a lifelong learning system that would allow the 100,000 residents of South Bend, Indiana—regardless of their age or background—to acquire new knowledge and skills through online courses as well as in-person classes. The goal was to foster a significant increase in better jobs, civic participation, and overall well-being for the community.

In June 2020, we finally unveiled the system. And month by month, backed by an aggressive marketing campaign, we watched the tally of unique local visitors to the Bendable digital platform steadily climb: from 2,161 to 5,160 to 8,040. Our plan to tackle the first order of business—bringing eyeballs to Bendable—was working. By mid-November, we’d crossed the 10,000 mark.

But as we headed into 2021, we began to notice a different trend taking hold: Growth was slowing.

This wasn’t totally surprising. We’d launched Bendable in the midst of the Coronavirus pandemic, rendering a nonstarter our elaborate plans to supplement the online learning with a slew of face-to-face events. But Covid-19 couldn’t explain everything. In this way, we found ourselves in the same situation that many organizations do when they bring a new digital product into the world: a meteoric start that quickly fades. To try to reverse the slide, we needed to look in the mirror. And that meant getting more serious about how we’d leverage the metrics we were collecting.

Over the past nine months, we have implemented what we call a 4-D approach to continuous improvement: data → decision-making → design → deployment. Now, our team from the Drucker Institute and the St. Joseph County Public Library—our key partner in South Bend and the home of Bendable in the community—gets together every four weeks or so to dig into the metrics, discuss what they mean, figure out what we should do about it, and assign a champion to be accountable and follow through.

To be sure, the numbers alone can’t give us a fully rounded picture; we always temper the quantitative data with what we are observing and hearing from Bendable stakeholders on the ground across the city. But the stats have become the place to start, giving our team a common way to frame whatever situation we are sizing up. We have used the data to shape our strategy for attracting new users, as well as for making Bendable stickier for those who've checked out the platform—goals that every digital product team can relate to.

Tracking the right data

Before we could take full advantage of the data, we had to make sure we were scrutinizing the right stuff.

Our first instinct—and likely the one many teams lean into—was to pull in all of the data that we could from Google Analytics and our own platform. What we ended up with was a mountain of metrics, but not a lot of meaning.

It didn’t take long before we realized that a better place to start was to sharpen our objectives for the program and then find the specific metrics that would shed light on whether we were getting there. We eventually landed on four overarching goals for Bendable in South Bend: to activate learning, drive a depth of learning, cultivate in people a habit of learning, and ensure that Bendable is inclusive of the whole community.

Today, we track statistics across 13 different areas (through Google, along with a few add-ons put together by our own software developer and key performance indicators passed on by our content providers). Each is organized under one of our four main goals.

These include things like the number of South Bend residents coming to Bendable both for the first time (activating learning) and returning (cultivating the habit of learning). We pay close attention to how much progress they are making through content providers’ courses, as well as through Bendable Career Collections—employer-backed learning pathways intended to prepare people for some of the most in-demand jobs in South Bend.

We also analyze the range of resources that people are clicking on. One of our theories is that if people are able to rely on Bendable to unearth all sorts of content, it will help instill in them the habit of learning. And so we assess how many South Bend residents want new work skills and how many are looking to enhance other aspects of their lives (by finding a class on, say, personal finance) or fulfilling a passion (like music or art).

We also pull information from our account sign-ups and parse which zip codes Bendable learners are from, which helps us make sure we’re reaching traditionally underserved areas.

Turning insight into action

From the data, we’ve learned that marketing matters—a lot. When the library lets up on its social media posts about Bendable, traffic to the platform falls, sometimes precipitously. When it leans into social media, traffic swells.

This is a crucial lesson: You have to sell a social innovation not unlike the way you would sell toothpaste; just because something meets a genuine need doesn’t mean that interest in it will magically materialize. It takes a real push.

As we delved into the data with the library, we discovered that to have the greatest impact, Bendable must be timely, which caused us to adjust our plans. One way we do this is by highlighting various Community Collections—personal learning playlists put together by local residents on a wide variety of topics. For instance, in the wake of the January 6 insurrection at the Capitol in Washington, the library promoted a Community Collection titled “Discerning fact from misinformation online.” More than 100 residents clicked on it that week, nearly nine times more than the next-most-opened Collection. As the weather started to warm this spring in South Bend, the library put the spotlight on a Community Collection called “Getting started as a gardener,” and it became the most popular.

Thanks in part to this insight, we have started to see our unique visitor growth pick back up, rising from its nadir of 481 in March.

“It’s the combination of pushing trusted learning content along with its relevance to our community's day-to-day life that brings more value to our patrons and translates to more engagement," says Norah Alwalan, who oversees the library’s Bendable outreach.

Turning visitors into regular users

The data also turned our attention to another challenge: getting people to sign up for a Bendable account. To date, about 1,500 have done so—just 10 percent of the nearly 15,300 unique local visitors who have now come to the platform.

Account sign-ups are tricky terrain for many digital products. You want to give a certain amount of freedom so that users can get a taste without potentially alienating them by coming on too strong and asking for their personal information. But you need that information to follow up with them and maximize their experience.

In the case of Bendable, this tension is especially pronounced. We want people to have friction-free access to much of the content on the platform so they can jump right in and begin learning. And yet if they don’t sign up for an account, we can’t communicate with them through email or text, making it difficult for us to support their efforts. What’s more, without an account, Bendable users can’t obtain course seats that have been pre-paid with philanthropic dollars, including a lot of the meatiest content that can help them advance in their careers.

So, how can we inspire more people to sign up for a Bendable account?

Thus far, we’ve tried several tactics, including an email blast to library patrons, urging them to make an account. In March, we added a welcome video to the top of the Bendable homepage, helping onboard new users to the platform and encouraging them to create an account from the get-go.

The pace of account sign-ups has shot up since April. But we know that we need to do much more.

Getting out into the community

As South Bend residents have gotten vaccinated and things have started to open back up, we have been working with librarians to get those walking into the 10 branches around the city excited about Bendable. We ask these people about their learning dreams, and then put their aspirations up on the branch wall, along with each person’s photo. (At the LaSalle Branch recently, we heard from men and women who were eager to re-learn math, become proficient in Photoshop, start a business, see their houseplants flourish, and more.) We then ask them to sign up for a Bendable account and give them guidance on how they can use the system.

Of course, we know that the toughest thing for many of these learners and any others who use Bendable will be persistence.

It’s not that Bendable users aren’t committed to learning. According to several of our content providers, including GCFGlobal and LRNG, those coming from Bendable.com consistently spend about twice as much time on their sites as do those who find their way there through a general search engine.

But it’s a different story for the courses that require hours of dedication to get all the way through, including those offered by Penn Foster, edX, and others that can lead to industry-recognized credentials or college credit. Of the 340 or so of these classes that have been started, fewer than 20 percent have been completed.

If the data has proven one thing above all, it’s that learning is hard.

On some level, we knew this going in. Adult learners face myriad barriers, including juggling work and family responsibilities; anxiety about being back in “school,” even if they are now in an alternative learning environment; and struggling with childcare and transportation.

But seeing the numbers has reinforced the fact that to drive a depth of learning—one of our four strategic goals—we need to get beyond the digital platform and equip the community to support Bendable learners. It’s a good reminder that the most important thing that a piece of technology can do is connect people in a meaningful way.

And so, we are now collaborating with stakeholders across South Bend—employers such as Beacon Health, the big hospital system in town; nonprofit organizations like Goodwill; government agencies, including a summer youth jobs program run by the city parks department; educational institutions, including the public schools; and others.

With our help, these partners are weaving Bendable into their everyday activities, seeking to further their own missions by assigning specific courses on the platform to their employees, clients, students, and so forth. To help these cohorts of learners get through the material successfully, we are now running a bunch of experiments that have been designed with input from a social science researcher. Among them: sending out text messages to nudge learning along; making available online coaching; using local university students as in-person coaches; and sharing data so that organizational leaders have visibility into learner progress.

In the end, building a better Bendable—as with any initiative trying to have a deep social impact—will be neither fast nor easy. We anticipate that it will take five years or more before we have a good sense of whether we’re getting anywhere toward our paramount goal: making South Bend more resilient by building a true community of lifelong learning.

Meanwhile, we will also be expanding Bendable through a partnership with the Maine State Library. Although Bendable will be hyper-localized for the people of Maine, with content and features that meet their particular wants and needs, our long-term aim remains the same: boosting the resilience of residents throughout the state.

Which is why we will, once again, rigorously track the most pertinent data. “The idea of resilience can be nebulous,” says Lex Dennis, the Drucker Institute’s director of lifelong learning. “That’s why focusing on the metrics as we go along is so critical.”

From the outset we monitored the numbers—and, at least at first, it was hard not to feel kind of giddy.

The winding streets in the medieval city fabric, the long lunches with wine followed by a nap, and all the built-in transitional time and spaces choreograph a unique quality and pace of life that defy our usual sense of urgency. The city forces its inhabitants to slow down, creating opportunities for the unplanned to unfold.

It’s this intangible quality that has drawn and inspired generations of artists and scholars, and what motivated my partner and I to apply for fellowships to study the act of wandering in Rome early in 2020. Curious about the truth behind the city’s lore, and believing it’s only possible to study wandering by wandering ourselves, we spent three months thinking not too hard about the things that make a place great for wandering and conducive to moments of serendipity.

Our days of wandering concluded when Rome locked down for the pandemic, and our lives shifted from the physical city to virtual space. Most of us have discovered benefits to this new way of working and living, and many elements are likely to remain. But in the rush to replicate the functional aspect of daily life online, we’ve also lost a bit of the spontaneity and chances of encountering the unexpected. Through this project, we want to champion the irreplaceability of physical spaces, and articulate a few design principles that take us beyond the typical pursuit of productivity and efficiency, and toward making environments that encourage and reward wandering.

1. Meta orientation

Rome is built on seven hills. Each day, we would wander from our apartment at the British School on the eastern edge of the city, up and down a hill, across a river, and up another hill to our studio at the American Academy on the west side. Setting out in the morning, we would often arrive just in time for lunch, and take the whole afternoon getting back just in time for dinner.

Curiously, after only a cursory glance at the map upon arrival, we were able to make the trip every day via constantly evolving routes. In the medieval city, the slight inclination of streets offered a meta sense of direction, allowing us to know roughly which way to go even when venturing into previously unexplored areas. In fact, many streets follow old streams; a local rule-of-thumb for when you’re lost is to pour water on the street and follow it down to the banks of the River Tiber.

The joy of wandering comes from its unpredictability, which is always delicately balanced against the fear of being completely lost. Subtle spatial cues such as the street sloping up or down, or glimpses of a monument when you’re crossing an axial boulevard, can offer a meta sense of orientation while preserving the excitement of choosing different paths to explore.

2. Built-in intermissions

At the risk of perpetuating stereotypes (both about Rome and about designers), our days were often strung together by coffee breaks, whether a quick pick-me-up before an appointment or to while away an afternoon. To our surprise, the same cup of coffee in a Roman cafe has two different prices depending on whether you are drinking it standing at the bar (about one Euro), or sitting down at a table (about six Euros). It’s perhaps the clearest evidence that coffee is not only a drink, but also a duration of time—the cheaper option gets you a short respite standing at the counter, while the more expensive option gets you an afternoon watching passers-by sitting at a street-side table.

The caffeinated intermissions provide in-between time to remember what we have just seen, and anticipate what we are about to see. It shifts our experience from distinctive blocks of activity to a gradated spectrum that fades in and out, creating opportunities for different ideas to overlap. The bitterness and heat of the coffee, pleasurable to sip but difficult to gulp, establishes a minimum amount of time between things, allowing our thoughts to wander without the need to be somewhere.

Perhaps what the physical environment can better offer and should be designed for is the gentle spacing between things: a short walk to lunch, a stroll from home to work, or some distance between the desk and fridge. That’s often when inspiration strikes.

3. Anchoring ambiance

Visitors to Rome often note the distinctive quality of the city’s light. With its dry and arid Mediterranean climate, the bright and sharp light plays off the solid architecture of stone and concrete to create deep contrasts and shadows. It dictates and changes what we can and cannot see at different times, often revealing only a small fragment of the overall picture.

A quirk of the human mind is its tendency to sprawl. We are overwhelmed when exposed to too much information and bored with too little. What holds our attention best is a partially-revealed picture that anchors parts of our imagination while allowing the rest to hover freely to fill in the voids. The ambiance of a place is often defined by what is concealed—a noisy cafe shifts our focus to the sight and smell, while a dimly lit street might foreground the sound and chill.

The physical space can offer an anchoring ambiance. Instead of the floor-to-ceiling glass walls favored by luxury developments, perhaps a few well-placed windows may allow us to see the outside more closely. By editing what our mind can see and perceive, we leave space for our imagination to roam and wander.

4. Loosely-defined uses

For a city famous for its walkability and public spaces, Rome has an unusual lack of public benches. But there’s always a place to rest, whether you’re sharing a podium with a Roman God, or leaning against the inclination of a once-impenetrable fortress. People intuitively adapt, exploit, and react to the spaces around them as they navigate and occupy the city.

Most modern buildings and spaces are designed for specific functions—a meeting room for meetings and a classroom for classes. Some are even designed to discourage unintended uses, such as segmented benches that prevent people from lying down. In a historical city like Rome, with its accumulated layers of architecture, landscapes, and urban form, few things are used for their original functions, and nothing fits precisely.

While the dictum of form follows function has an alluring logical clarity, it’s also a self-fulfilling prophecy, with the function constrained by the tight-fitting form. When we design our spaces to loosely fit their intended uses, we naturally invite exploration and appropriation. As any parent knows, a snowy slope entertains a child for longer and in more ways than a purpose-designed playground slide.

5. Intentional collage

A Roman walks into a bar, holds up two fingers, and says “Five beers please!” The joke works by connecting two previously separate frames of reference: two fingers for two, and V for the Roman numeral five. Inspiration works in a similar way, by revealing a previously unnoticed relationship. We never quite know which two things will resonate, so one of the best ways to generate inspiration is to be constantly exposed to new collages of things and ideas.

Rome is in many ways the perfect collage-generating machine, where the ancient coexists nonchalantly inside, around, above, under, and next to the cutting-edge. Walk past a classical facade marked by graffiti, and you might notice the original Latin inscriptions under the latest tag, both created by the same human impulses. Experiences like these recalibrate our sense of perspective in the vastness of history, while at the same time affirms the universality of our human instincts.

Despite the urge to categorize and organize, we could allow some messiness of life to spill through. In our spaces, instead of insisting on a uniformed look where all the furniture must conform to a color or style, a diverse collection accumulated over time often inspires more stories.

My partner and I have always been drawn to certain spaces with a special spark—places where we feel relaxed, inspired, and curious, and can wander freely. While an anecdote from Rome or other exotic locations often serves as a shorthand for this spark, this project is our attempt to pin down this elusive and intangible quality, so that we may discuss and design for it more intentionally and precisely.

Now, as we emerge from the pandemic, we are presented with the rare opportunity to re-examine the value of our physical spaces. Perhaps we can draw on some of these principles to design future environments, not only as something to be optimized for productivity and efficiency, but as pleasant and inspiring spaces to be in, wander around, and maybe encounter the unexpected.

As a city, Rome is measurably inefficient; the concept of finding the quickest route between points A and B is almost non-existent.

At their core, rituals are intentional actions that follow a particular repeatable pattern. Certain words or phrases, symbolic props, and patterned movements are used to elevate everyday moments into meaningful and memorable experiences. Rituals have a unique ability to make intangible values and beliefs concrete because they bridge the mind and the body, the two ways humans process and make sense of the world. We use them all the time in religion, politics, and sports to help groups navigate change, form a shared sense of identity and purpose, and enhance performance—but we forget they can also be incredibly powerful at work.

In the past year, we’ve had a lot of time to learn about rituals for the virtual world. Some of IDEO Chicago’s favorites are featured in a new book by Stanford’s Ritual Design Lab called “Rituals for Virtual Meetings: Creative Ways to Engage People and Strengthen Relationships.” The book highlights remote rituals from companies around the world that help with focus, connection, flow, and more. Here are some of our favorites.

Embrace the cacophony

For years, all-hands Monday Lunch Meetings (MLMs) have been an important weekly ritual for sharing inspiration, information, and project work over a meal at IDEO studios across the globe. When we first entered round-the-clock remote life, presenters were faced with an intimidating, feedback-free void. It felt cold and awkward, and nothing at all like the MLMs we knew and loved.

To fix that, we identified that the MLM routine itself wasn’t enough—we needed to design moments of consistent virtual connection to revive the feeling of the shared experience. So we sped up the pace of shares, encouraged side conversations in chat, added sound effects like air horns through a creative hack using DJ software, and fully leaned into the awkward audio latency tendencies of video calls with our monthly singing of “Happy Birthday.” By embracing the cacophony, we subverted the silence and saved each other from being isolated in the void, retaining some semblance of consistency and communal spirit during an otherwise unpredictable and lonely time.

Find serendipity through structure

When we were together in our studio, we could rely on the walls and furniture to create safe boundaries and immersive experiences. But in a video room, space can feel infinite and spontaneous conversation challenging. We realized we needed to design specifically for serendipitous encounters.

One of the first events we created was the ChIDEO Variety Hour. An event inspired by improvisational, slapstick variety shows (think The Muppet Show and old telethons), it’s meant to showcase the range of talent and work being done in the studio. It feels spontaneous and whimsical thanks to two constraining factors: First, presenters sign up in advance for “on-screen time”—from as little as one minute to as long as 30. Second, two hosts write a script for the show and get robust “back of house” support from a team that monitors live technical aspects like time keeping or moderating chat.

At the first Variety Hour we had a research share from recent project work, an intermission dance party, and one minute of screaming, to name a few examples. It was the most participatory virtual event we had ever had, and Variety Hour has since become a beloved monthly ritual in our digital studio.

Make the most of digital tools

When everyone works remotely, the physical distance becomes compounded with digital invisibility. The right ritual can manufacture proximity, rebuild trust and connection, and mimic the ebb and flow of a good house party. This is where digital tools can shine.

The Breakout Room function is meant for subdividing large webinar audiences, but we asked, what if it was used for something like speed dating? Breakout Rooms can be randomized, sized in different ways, and attendees can even move between them on their own. We harness these features for an icebreaker game called “Chance Encounters of the Zoom Kind.” By randomly placing participants in different breakout rooms together, keeping the duration a surprise, and providing thought-provoking conversation prompts to break the ice, we recreated casual collisions for the digital office. In some cases, it was the first time people had seen each other since the lockdown began, and it provided much needed reconnection, randomness, and joy.

Developing your own rituals

If you’re looking to decrease the stress that accompanies change, create conditions that kickstart innovation, inspire greater trust and collaboration among coworkers, or turn the mundane into the memorable, consider creating your own workplace rituals from scratch—or turn to the dozens outlined in Rituals from Virtual Meetings for inspiration.

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When COVID first sent office workers remote, many companies struggled with the decentralization and loneliness of virtual work. Thankfully, at the IDEO Chicago studio we had a secret weapon we knew would help us bring serendipity, joy, and creativity into the uncharted landscape of perpetual videoland: rituals.

Our personalities and outlooks, where we grew up, and all of the experiences we’ve ever gone through in life get filtered and expressed through the things we create. And—perhaps even more importantly—our identities impact why we create, helping us find meaning and purpose in our creative work.

In celebration of Asian Pacific American Heritage Month (APAHM), we're sharing reflections from some of the incredible creatives who continue to inspire us. Here, they share insight on what drives them and their goals for the future—bound to, centered in, and empowered by their unique identities.

Adamu Chan, Writer, Filmmaker, and Community Organizer

Adamu Chan is a formerly incarcerated writer and filmmaker whose work is shaped by his connections to community. He’s written for Slate about the impact of COVID-19 on prisons, and has published a short film from within San Quentin. He sees his role as a catalyst to drive change in society.

“Culture and history are our collective memory, and history is usually shaped by dominant groups. Art has historically been one of the only avenues for marginalized peoples to participate in dominant discourses, and so I believe it is the job of artists to produce cultural projects that propel political and social transformation. I would like to be remembered as someone who helped move our world towards being more equitable, just, and inclusive.

If we are committed to transforming ourselves and our society, it is important to hear the stories of those who have always lived at the margins, because they hold the answers to what is broken, and in their stories of survival are the solutions we are seeking.”

Kimberly Ang, CEO and founder of of KAYA

Kimberly Ang is the founder and CEO of KAYA, an app that connects climbers and helps them track and get insights from their workouts. Prior to that, she led IDEO’s Design for Health portfolio. Today, Kimberly is focused on forging a path so that others like her feel welcome within the climbing community.

“Looking ahead, there are three changes we’re focused on: 1) Democratize access to the insights and coaching people need to learn how to climb and climb well 2) Celebrate a much more diverse range of climbers to show everyone they can be included in this community and 3) Take care of our public lands and ensure we grow sustainably.

I hope to be remembered as leading with heart and being myself, and creating space for others to do the same.”

Anupama Rao, Communications Designer and Behavioral Science Practitioner

Anupama Rao is the creator behind BrainGoo, a library of visual storytelling sequences (often in the form of Instagram posts and stories) that explain complex words and make observations about the world. In her day job, she’s a Design Researcher at Qure.ai. Her work is fueled by a desire to make healthcare access more equitable and compassionate.

“I work in the intersection between the future of design and behavioral science so that I get the chance to tackle wicked problems, especially those focused on women’s rights and healthcare, via small incremental changes. I’m fueled by my experience as my mother’s primary caregiver from a young age. The idea is to work towards inclusive design by consciously accounting for representation, systemic inequalities, social biases, and lack of access.

Currently, as a designer at Qure.ai, I work with experts to create AI products that make healthcare affordable and accessible, which is equal parts challenging, overwhelming, and rewarding. I love seeing how design can play a role. For example, can designing this report differently save a healthcare professional 10 seconds? What factors influence a crowded ER when a patient is having a stroke? How can I make this relevant to a low-resource, sparsely populated village?

I want the legacy of my work to be its empathy for the context it lives in, and its ability to create sustainable and positive behavior change.”

Michelle Lee, Managing Director, Design For Play at IDEO

Michelle Lee leads the Design for Play studio at IDEO, where she designs actual toys—but also finds ways to bring games and play into other unexpected industries, like education and health.

“My initial career in toy design taught me that play has potential far beyond the world of kids and toys. Through play, we stretch our imaginations, conquer our fears, realize new possibilities and take on challenges with optimism and confidence. It enables us to find meaning and happiness in the world. At IDEO, I lead a team that harnesses this power of play to ensure that aging is joyful, education is engaging and environmental action is inspiring.

I see the future in bringing play to tackle some of society’s biggest challenges—helping people thrive mentally and physically, building inclusive communities and helping to elevate voices that are often unheard. Driving lasting change by aligning these important issues with what brings people joy.”

Want to learn more, and get inspired by other Asian and Pacific Islander creatives? Follow the #AsianCreativeNetwork tag on social media, and check out our Asian Pacific American Heritage Month series on Instagram.

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What you make is who you are. For many designers, creativity is rooted in identity.

I help organizations cut through complexity by shaping how they show up, through brand strategy, identity, and storytelling.

Working at the intersection of brand and business, I bring an editorial eye and a bias toward making—turning ideas into tangible experiences that people can understand, trust, and believe in.

My work spans government, healthcare, financial services, media, and consumer goods, from launching Gen Z-focused ventures to building innovation labs and reimagining legacy brands. I relish moments of ambiguity and enjoy translating across teams, perspectives, and priorities to move ideas forward.

I started my career in editorial and digital design, shaping cross-platform experiences and identity systems in publishing and agency environments. That foundation still shapes how I work today: I’m detail-oriented, collaborative, and overreliant on the Oxford comma. I hold a BFA in Visual Communication from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago.

For 25 years, I've asked the same question: Who does this design exclude—and what are we going to do about it?

My work spans human-centered strategy, inclusive design, and qualitative research, with clients ranging from Microsoft, Google, and Verizon to the National Science Foundation, and San Francisco Unified School District.

Before IDEO, I taught elementary school in East Palo Alto and spent a decade doing design work with social service organizations—where I learned firsthand what it costs people when systems are built without them in mind.

I am currently writing User Error, a nonfiction book about digital access and the design decisions behind it. I live in Oakland, California.

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My expertise spans brand, communication, and product design across tech, education, the arts, and social impact.

I believe great work demands both high-level vision and obsessive attention to detail, and only happens through collaboration.

I bring an inclusive, hands-on approach and a deep understanding of business, which enables me to consistently deliver excellence while always asking why.

Before joining IDEO, I worked at the brand firms Pentagram and VSA Partners. I began my career as a designer, leading teams at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago and the Milwaukee Art Museum. I hold an MFA in graphic design from Maryland Institute College of Art and a BFA in communication design from the Milwaukee Institute of Art & Design, and have taught at some of the best design schools in the US.

I am responsible for IDEO’s long-term success in China and working with clients to use design as a tool to enable growth. Specifically, I have helped Chinese companies design holistic brand solutions through the development of their products, communication, services, and innovation teams, and I have helped multinationals expand their presence and influence in China.

I advise global leaders on developing China-led innovation and capabilities.

In over 15 years in IDEO Shanghai, I have worked on projects that use design to elevate the quality of the experience of healthcare products and services, streamline processes that increase productivity, create spaces and programs that promote and enable inclusive communities, and build next generation mobility solutions that are planet-positive.

Before joining IDEO, I worked at Philips Electronics and the Electrolux Group in Italy, the Netherlands, and Singapore on a number of breakthrough commercial products. I am a member of the Young President Organization in Shanghai.