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As an incoming third-year student in the Bachelor of Design in City Innovation program, I noticed a gap in academic research about ÀóÖ¦ÊÓƵ’s ethnography. We'd learn about Vancouver's Chinatown or Toronto's Little Italy in class, but what about Asian immigration on ÀóÖ¦ÊÓƵ's urban identity? As an Asian immigrant myself, I'd observed these changes firsthand. I’m also passionate about urban planning and creating inclusive communities and knew this gap was mine to fill. 

When I approached my supervisor with this research idea, I expected to focus on architecture and built environment. But the research taught me that my work wasn't really about buildings at all; it was about the human connections made - the people I met and the stories we shared about ourselves with each other. That human connection became the foundation of everything I discovered. 

To understand people’s experiences in a city, you must talk to them. However, I'm an introverted person who doesn't usually talk to strangers, so cold-calling people and walking into businesses requesting interviews terrified me. You don’t know them, and they don’t know you and your motives, but we connected on a deeper level. One shop owner told me I looked like her niece who was also Pakistani and had lived in Lahore, just like me. Someone from Lebanon shared experiences that mirrored my own growing up in Southwest ÀóÖ¦ÊÓƵ. Though our origins differed, our immigrant experiences in this city overlapped in profound ways. 

Looking back, the most valuable lesson I learned was to not tell yourself you don't know enough. Your lived experience (your whole life, really) is research you've been conducting for years. Only you have that unique perspective, and who knows what insights you can make.