I read this text with my brother in mind, he has autism, and I often notice how the design of everyday objects and spaces affects him. Small details like lighting, textures, and how objects feel to the touch can make a big difference in his comfort and understanding of the world. When he broke his leg, for example, he struggled to make sense of the cast, and the experience reminded me how design interacts with perception, comprehension, and well-being.
This reading made me reflect on my own assumptions about design. I realized that when I work on projects, I often focus on what makes sense to me, without considering the diverse needs of other users. Thinking about my brother made me ask: how could I design with someone else’s perspective in mind? How could I make objects and environments more inclusive, without losing creativity or aesthetic appeal?
It also made me notice the subtle ways society treats differences. Glasses, once stigmatized, are now fashion statements, yet many other assistive tools are still hidden or minimized. This made me think about how design can either reinforce stigma or remove it. For my brother, thoughtful design could mean the difference between feeling overwhelmed and feeling calm in his daily life.
Finally, the reading helped me see inclusion in a broader sense. Simple, thoughtful design isn’t just functional; it can enhance comfort, independence, and confidence. I noticed how many spaces we use aren’t made with accessibility in mind, though some places are beginning to shift. There’s a mall in Dubai now that was designed with Autism friendliness in mind. It made me think about my own role as a designer and how I should approach projects with attention to diverse experiences and an awareness of cognitive and sensory differences.