In 2020, while I was still deeply focused on studying statistics and pursuing a career in data science, the pandemic unexpectedly gave me a year at home, attending college remotely. During that time, I spent countless days with my grandparents, who were in their 80s. Unlike the stereotype of seniors struggling with technology, they were eager learners, embracing digital tools and social media with enthusiasm.

Guess what? My grandfather mastered Photoshop and became an impressive video editor, creating and editing content with skills that could rival younger generations. They sent messages, shared videos, and shopped online daily—just like any millennial or Gen Z.

But behind their tech-savviness was an extraordinary amount of effort—far more than most people would need. The challenge wasn’t their willingness to learn but the complexity of digital interfaces. Most products weren’t designed with seniors in mind. Beyond basic font enlargement, there were hardly any thoughtful adjustments to accommodate their cognitive load and learning curve. As a result, I became their personal tech tutor, guiding them through endless buttons, confusing menus, and non-intuitive workflows.

This sparked a burning question in my mind:
In an era of rapid digital transformation, is font size adjustment really the best we can do for older users?

We all age. Technology will continue to evolve, and seniors won’t stop using digital tools—if anything, they’ll rely on them even more. This realization shifted my perspective entirely. I found myself drawn to researching, questioning, and designing better experiences. I loved ideating solutions that truly put people first, ensuring that no one—regardless of age—was left behind.

That’s when I knew—I didn’t just want to design products; I wanted to design with purpose. Instead of becoming a data scientist, I chose to be a product designer who bridges the gap between technology and people, creating intuitive, accessible experiences that empower everyone.