The Tracer :Navigating the challenges of User Centered design

At TRACE, we’ve always believed that innovation begins with people, not ideas. But when we brought that philosophy into schools for the blind in Ghana, we quickly realized that understanding real needs is never straightforward.

Many students we met were brilliant and curious, especially in subjects like math. They were eager to learn and genuinely interested in exploring concepts, but when it came to following multi-step procedures, even simple problems became frustrating. The tools available weren’t designed for their context, and their classrooms didn’t always support independent exploration. Observing this gap made it clear: we couldn’t just build what we thought would help and we had to uncover what would.

Here’s where user-centered design got complicated. In Ghanaian culture, children are often taught to defer to adults and please visitors. Many students were shy or hesitant to speak their minds, making it difficult to discern what they truly liked or needed. Even teachers, whose insights we relied on heavily, were poised to be agreeable, cautious, or to give “acceptable” answers in front of outsiders.

To navigate this, we had to rethink how we gathered feedback. For students, we designed playful tests, observation-based activities, and tasks that allowed them to interact with TRACER without fear of judgment. We watched, measured, and noted which features sparked engagement and which caused confusion. For teachers, we worked on building trust and lowering their guard, spending time with them beyond formal interviews, listening deeply, and sharing our own challenges. Slowly, this bond allowed them to open up honestly about the classroom realities, workflow hurdles, and limitations that rarely surface in formal discussions.

The insights from both students and teachers guided every design decision. TRACER became simpler, more tactile, and intuitive. Braille markings were spaced for clear touch differentiation, surfaces were redesigned based on hands-on interaction, and features that weren’t genuinely useful were removed. Every prototype went back to the students, allowing us to iterate fast and meaningfully.

Designing for accessibility in Ghanaian classrooms taught us that user-centered design is not a checklist, it’s a relationship. It requires patience, observation, cultural understanding, and trust. Students and teachers are experts in their own experience, but in environments where social norms encourage politeness and restraint, uncovering authentic feedback requires careful attention and empathy.

TRACER isn’t perfect—but it is shaped by the very people who will use it. Every iteration is closer to enabling students to follow procedures independently, explore confidently, and thrive in math and beyond. This journey reminds us: true innovation doesn’t just consider ability, it considers culture, context, and the human relationships that reveal what solutions will actually work.