From Public Space to Digital Space: Still Helping People

Do you remember your answer when you were a kid and someone asked you what you wanted to be when you grew up? I remember perfectly because when I was a kid, I was really determined to be a doctor. And when people asked why, I answered, “Because I want to help people”.

When I was sixteen, I realized I needed a more creative path to find happiness. I earned my bachelor’s and master’s degrees in landscape architecture, with a focus on designing therapeutic and healing gardens. The desire to improve people’s lives led me to design both private gardens and public spaces. After graduating, I put that education into practice.

Up until last year, I worked as a landscape architect, designing public spaces with a focus on mobility and accessibility. During this time, I learned that not all disabilities are visible and that most of us will experience disability at some point in life, even if only temporarily.

This insight transformed my approach to design. Some people with chronic diseases, like fibromyalgia or rheumatoid arthritis, don’t use a cane or a wheelchair, but they have a hard time walking on uneven surfaces. From the outside, you’d never know they’re struggling. But a cobblestone path that looks pretty? For them, it’s a barrier. A set of stairs without a ramp nearby? It might as well be a wall. I learned to design for these edge cases, especially when they’re not visible, because that’s where the real impact lies.

My work mostly relied on site analysis and user research. Site analysis helped me understand what could be built within a space. User research helped me know what the users actually needed from that space. The goal was always to design the best space for them, striking a balance between what was possible and what was necessary.

Throughout my work, I spent a significant amount of time on the computer, utilizing CAD software, 3D modeling, and other design programs. Hearing friends in UX/UI discuss their jobs sparked my curiosity, and I began considering a career shift. I thought, “Maybe I can do that as well.”

What intrigued me most was the meticulous thought that went into everything. Even a simple button requires decisions about size, color, behavior, and copy. Every detail mattered.

As I talked with these friends, I noticed that many considerations I faced when designing public spaces were similar to those in digital product design. The parallels were always there, though I hadn’t connected the dots yet.

This realization deepened as I learned more about product design. I soon saw I had already been using several of the same methods in my previous work.

However, I was genuinely surprised by the differences in pace and scale. Product design moves quickly—iterations, testing, and changes can happen within days or weeks. In contrast, landscape projects can take months or even years to complete and have a significant impact on entire communities. Product design, on the other hand, often focuses on a few user interactions at a time.

The work is different, but the thinking is the same: understanding user needs and solving problems through ideation and prototyping.

With this in mind, I grew increasingly interested in designing digital spaces as a product designer. Over several months, I weighed the risks of leaving a familiar field to start in one I knew little about.

In July 2024, I took a leap of faith, leaving my landscape architecture job to pursue a career in product design. A month later, I began freelancing, took online courses, and attended local design meetings—each step deepened my fascination with the field.

I thought product design would be straightforward—learn new software, pick up terminology, apply my design thinking digitally. I was utterly wrong.

Initially, the biggest challenge was not knowing what to look for or where—whether inspiration, famous designers, or articles. I felt lost, navigating a new world without a map. Yet, with every course, meetup, and conversation, I gained a deeper orientation. When asked about my career change, my answer was always the same: “Because I want to help people.”

After months of self-learning, I had a good foundation, but I needed real-world experience. That’s when I discovered the Subvisual apprenticeship.

This summer, I enrolled in the Subvisual Apprenticeship. I learned about it from a friend who had previously done an apprenticeship at Subvisual and now works there. Lacking a strong portfolio, I focused my application on my story and eagerness to learn and grow as a product designer. It paid off.

The Pet-Finder Project

In this apprenticeship, I designed a product to help people find missing pets with community support, following the Design Thinking framework from research through the development of a pet-finder app. My mentor proposed the problem after noticing gaps in the existing tools used in these situations.

I started with generative research, conducting one-on-one interviews with six people who had either lost their pet or found a lost animal. What I discovered: people rely on neighbors and proximity, use their phones in emergencies, and want to help but lack the right tools to take action quickly.

These insights shaped the solution. I designed an app centered on community help because time is crucial in these situations. The core features included an easy way to report a lost pet or found animal, instant notifications, and location-based alerts, allowing users in the area to take action quickly. Users could message within the app to protect privacy. What made this different was the real-time location alerts and the ability to generate shareable reports rapidly.

I worked in Figma, starting with low-fidelity prototypes and then progressing to high-fidelity designs. I tested both versions with users, assigning each a task to complete in the prototype and asking them to share their insights as they progressed through it. The feedback was encouraging: the app was working well, and the features resonated, but there were some copywriting issues and incorrect button sizes that needed to be addressed. Those details mattered.

What was I most proud of? When people tested it and said, “We are really in need of an app like this.” That validation—knowing I’d designed something that could genuinely help—made all the panic and late-night reading worth it.

Mentorship and Growth

I was mentored by the Lead Product Designer, Joana Gomes, and couldn’t have asked for a better mentor. Joana also changed careers—she was a nutritionist before becoming a product designer—so she understood what it means to come from a different background. She explained everything thoroughly, gave me books and articles to read, and showed me where to find more information when I needed it. We had weekly one-on-ones scheduled, but if I needed more interaction, we’d schedule additional meetings or quickly message each other for simple questions and advice. (It also didn’t hurt that she’s kind of a bookaholic like me.)

But it wasn’t just Joana. Really, everyone I spoke with at Subvisual—whether in interviews, on Slack, or in the office—was always open to helping me. That kind of support made a huge difference. I didn’t feel like I was navigating this alone.

What struck me most was the distinct difference in the team environment compared to my experience in landscape architecture. At Subvisual, I didn’t sense the hierarchy. Everyone enjoys working there and helps each other. That environment made me feel safe asking questions, making mistakes, and growing.

I became a better designer because of them.

What I Learned

In ten weeks, I grew more as a product designer than in all the months before. During this apprenticeship, I completed a full product cycle—from research and ideation through prototyping and testing—for a real-world app. This hands-on project, combined with intensive mentoring, made me realize it’s okay to change careers, even if it might seem like a step back at first. I was already on the path to becoming a senior landscape architect, and now I’m a junior product designer. However, what truly makes us good professionals and skilled at what we do is the cumulative experience we gather.

Ten weeks earlier, creating prototypes, conducting usability tests, and developing a research plan would have gotten my heart racing. Now I can confidently say I can do them. However, more importantly, I approach problems differently. Instead of seeking a perfect solution on the first try, I now understand the importance of starting with user needs, iterating multiple times, seeking feedback, and improving based on that feedback and user testing. The process is messy, but that’s the point.

My most significant area of growth wasn’t just learning the tools; it was becoming more comfortable with new tools and situations, acknowledging when I don’t know something, and knowing where and how to look for the answers. That comfort with uncertainty, that confidence in my ability to learn, is what changed the most.

Looking back, I always wanted to help people. As a kid, that meant becoming a doctor. Now I realize that helping others comes in many forms—whether as a teacher, receptionist, landscape architect, or product designer. We all help people, directly or indirectly.

What excites me most about product design now is how it interacts with human behavior. Understanding why people do what they do, how they interact with spaces—physical or digital—and designing experiences that feel easy and natural to use. My background in landscape architecture enables me to view things on a larger scale, understanding how a small detail can have a significant impact and how people use and experience spaces. I bring that perspective to every product I design.

I’m at the beginning of this journey. Every product can be interesting and challenging, and there’s still so much to learn.

To anyone considering a similar career change from a non-tech background: don’t be afraid to reinvent yourself and learn new things. If you’re already considering a change in your career, it’s a sign you’re ready to do it. So, I cannot prescribe glasses for you if your eyesight is poor, but I can help you have a more comfortable reading experience. And that matters just as much.