Why we started this project

Every project begins with a reason, and for us, it was personal. All of us on the team had seen visual impairment up close through our grandparents. It wasn’t just a medical condition we read about — it was part of daily life. We watched them struggle with simple things like moving around safely, reading labels, or using a mobile phone. But more than the practical challenges, what stood out was how vision loss quietly changed their relationship with the world. Hobbies faded, routines were dropped, and there was a gradual sense of isolation. Over time, it started to feel like they had fewer choices — like the world had become smaller.

That feeling stayed with us.

When we first started exploring this space, we weren’t thinking specifically about education or STEM. The initial impulse was much more open-ended: we just wanted to understand what it means to lose vision in a world that’s not really designed for it. Our thinking was simple — maybe this experience doesn’t have to feel like a dead end.

We began by looking at hobbies — activities that bring joy and purpose. What if someone who loved painting could do it again? Or if a person who used to sew could pick it back up? Even something like experimenting with technology or tinkering with tools — if we could find ways to make those experiences accessible, maybe we could spark a sense of engagement. Even small moments like that can help people feel more independent and connected.

At that point, we didn’t have a solution in mind. We just had a hunch — that there was something here worth exploring. And that curiosity became our starting point.

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Finding a bigger problem

Our first instinct was simple: we wanted to explore how people with visual impairment might reconnect with hobbies they’d drifted away from—things like painting, electronics, or music. We weren’t thinking about education or STEM at that point. It was more of a curiosity about everyday life, and whether design could open up small joys that may have become harder to access. Encouraged by our guide Gayathri Menon, we visited the Blind People’s Association (BPA) in Ahmedabad. That visit shifted everything.

We were welcomed by Dr. Ranchhod Soni, who gave us a tour of the space and introduced us to the technologies students were using—braille devices, tactile learning tools, screen readers, audio-based interfaces. But more than the tools, it was the people who made an impression. One of the first individuals we met was a visually impaired drummer. He was incredible—precise, confident, completely in rhythm. Watching him perform challenged our assumptions in real-time. There was a moment of surprise, quickly followed by reflection: why had it even seemed surprising in the first place? It became clear that ability wasn’t the issue—access was.

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Later, we participated in an activity called “Vision in the Dark,” where we were guided through a completely dark room and asked to carry out basic tasks without any visual cues. It was disorienting and humbling, but also eye-opening. For a brief moment, we experienced how much the world assumes sight, and how design often excludes anyone who doesn’t navigate the world visually.

Spending time with the students brought even more clarity. The atmosphere at BPA was anything but passive. Students were engaged in sports like goalball and football with bells inside, some having represented India in national and international competitions. They were confident and competitive. There was a chess room where I played a match—and lost—to one of the students. There was also a small coding club where students were learning programming with screen readers, experimenting with logic, and discussing how to debug their code. It felt like any other computer lab, full of enthusiasm and momentum.

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Naturally, we asked if they saw themselves pursuing this further—maybe a BTech degree, maybe working in software someday. Their answer was calm but firm: “We can’t. We don’t have science after 10th.” At first, it didn’t strike us as odd. Science is a highly visual subject, after all. But the more we spoke to students and teachers, the more we realized this wasn’t just a limitation—it was a pattern. Science wasn’t discouraged. It was simply absent. And when we asked teachers why, the answer was often: “They’re not interested.” But that didn’t sit right. These were curious, capable students who clearly enjoyed technology and problem-solving. It didn’t seem like disinterest. It felt like they’d never been given the chance.

That’s when we realized we were no longer looking at a small design brief about hobbies. We were looking at a much larger question—why is science, and by extension STEM education and careers, structurally out of reach for students with visual impairment?

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Digging in deeper

After our initial visit to the Blind People’s Association, we realized this wasn’t just about designing helpful tools — it was about understanding the larger systems that made STEM education inaccessible to visually impaired (VI) students in the first place.

We approached the problem from three directions:

• Interviews with students, teachers, and inclusion experts
• Secondary research to understand national and global trends
• On-ground observations across schools and education spaces

It became clear early on: this wasn’t one problem. It was a combination of many small and large barriers that together formed a system of exclusion.

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Macro View of the problem

India is home to a large population of visually impaired youth. According to the 2011 census, about 1.1 million children aged 5–19 have a visual disability, and roughly 68% of them attend school. However, as noted above, almost none progress into science or technical streams in higher grades. In fact, a detailed study observed that hardly any visually impaired students in India pursue science and math beyond middle school or enter STEM careers. This attrition is striking when contrasted with the general population – India produced 2.6 million STEM graduates in 2017 (among the highest in the world) yet virtually none were visually impaired. visionempowertrust.org

Why this stark gap? Part of the reason is simply lack of access. Of those 1.1 million VI children, only about two-thirds are even in school to begin with. For those who do study, accessible learning materials and support in STEM subjects are extremely scarce. As we’ll see, a combination of infrastructural shortfalls and social attitudes has systematically pushed blind students away from science. visionempowertrust.org

But the issue isn’t unique to India. Globally, people with visual impairments are underrepresented in STEM fields. There are around 36 million people who are blind worldwide (with about 1 million of them children), and an additional 216 million with moderate to severe visual impairment. Yet STEM education still overwhelmingly relies on sight – think of graph-heavy textbooks, visual demonstrations in labs, or color-coded diagrams. Without adaptations, these are inaccessible to blind learners. The result: from East to West, many VI students are discouraged from STEM early on. However, the challenge is especially acute in India, where resources are limited and stigma remains strong. labmanager.com

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First-Hand Insights

Minnie Cama School for the Blind

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We started by visiting Minnie Cama Secondary School for the Blind and spoke to Principal Manubhai, who walked us through the school’s approach.

One discovery shocked us: students weren’t allowed to take the Science stream in 11th and 12th standard. This was surprising because these were the same students representing India in the Paralympics. We weren’t able to meet them, but the irony was clear — while they competed internationally, their curriculum options were limited locally.

Several students we spoke to told us they had tried to switch to other schools to study science — and were denied due to "lack of infrastructure." Despite their curiosity and willingness, the system simply didn’t support their ambition.

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From BPA’s IT Cell

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We then met Medhaben, a member of the IT cell at BPA, who explained how blind students use computers through screen readers like NVDA and JAWS. Computer education is part of the curriculum, and we observed an Excel class in session.

For us, it was challenging to follow — screen readers read out the content linearly, making it difficult to scan or edit quickly. This challenge is even more intense during coding lessons, where students need to debug and refer to older lines of code frequently. Many VI students struggle because the tools weren’t designed with them in mind.

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Manjot’s Story

That’s when our teammate Mansi recalled her old school friend, Manjot Singh, who had studied Physics, Chemistry, and Math (PCM) despite being blind. She got in touch, and we later spoke to him on a video call. His story grounded everything we were seeing.

Manjot is currently pursuing a double major in Computer Science and Economics, with a minor in Psychology at the University of British Columbia, Canada. He lost his vision in Class 4, but that didn’t stop him. He enjoys cooking, playing guitar, gaming, and coding.

But the journey wasn’t easy. He told us how he had to fight CBSE to be allowed to take PCM in high school. The board often steers VI students toward "simpler" math from Class 9 — limiting their academic and career options early on.

To study STEM:

• He relied on descriptions for diagrams and even used tactile graphing tools like gear-based graph paper.
• For chemistry practicals, he used smell to identify chemicals — a method that’s neither safe nor sustainable.
• To pursue C++ coding, he needed to be in the science stream — something most VI students are systematically excluded from.

He also pointed out that private colleges in India aren’t required to accommodate students with disabilities. Even public institutions like IITs take years to implement accessibility measures, like ramps and support staff.

His experience helped us finalize our direction. STEM access wasn’t just a resource gap — it was a structural and policy failure that needed deeper intervention.

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What are the problems?

Based on our conversations and secondary research, we identified six primary barriers preventing blind students from accessing STEM education:

1. Lack of Accessible Materials

STEM content is highly visual. Most science and math textbooks aren’t available in braille or audio formats beyond early grades. Tactile diagrams and 3D models are rarely accessible in schools.

2. Untrained Teachers

Most science teachers aren't trained in inclusive methods. Many special educators haven't studied STEM, while regular teachers don’t know how to adapt lessons for visually impaired students.

3. No Practical Exposure

Special schools may lack labs. Mainstream labs rarely have adaptive tools. As a result, blind students often miss out on practical science completely.

4. Language Barriers

Most assistive tech is English-based. Students studying in regional languages often don’t get localized accessible STEM resources.

5. Urban-Rural Divide

While some urban NGOs offer support, rural schools lack even basic resources like braille books. Technology and trained staff are largely absent outside cities.

6. Low Expectations

A common assumption is that STEM isn’t suitable for blind students. This belief, often unspoken, prevents many from even getting the chance to try.

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At the time, we realized that changing the formal education system—curriculum, training, infrastructure—was a huge challenge that wouldn’t happen overnight. So instead of starting with top-down reform, we focused on something more immediate and achievable: helping visually impaired students build real, hands-on skills that could open up opportunities beyond the classroom. We were inspired by a recurring sentiment in the tech world—many founders and CEOs openly say they’re willing to hire people without formal degrees if they have the right skills. That mindset gave us a clear direction: if we could create STEM kits and learning tools that made core concepts tactile, intuitive, and self-driven, we could help students gain confidence and competence in ways that didn’t rely on traditional exams or outdated systems. These kits weren’t just for the students—they were also something teachers could use in regular classrooms to make STEM more inclusive and keep visually impaired learners on equal footing with their peers.

Our Design brief: Create accessible content, instruction kits and technologies to assist the teaching and learning of STEM for children with visual impairment.

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Tech in Practice

To better understand the real-world educational tools used by students with visual impairments, we closely observed their existing technologies and workflows. This included studying how screen readers like JAWS are used alongside standard keyboards, how students transcribe and read using Braille software like Duxbury, and how large-scale Braille presses and manual embossing machines operate. This exploration helped us appreciate not only the complexity and infrastructure behind accessible content creation, but also the tactile logic embedded into these systems. These insights were critical—not just for grounding our designs in current reality—but also for identifying gaps and opportunities where new, more intuitive tools could be introduced.

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Ideation

With that goal in mind, we began exploring how to make specific STEM fields more accessible—one subject, one barrier at a time. We didn’t want to create a single “universal kit” that tried to solve everything at once. Instead, we focused on identifying key moments or concepts in each subject—chemistry, physics, mathematics, robotics, even coding—where students typically get stuck because of visual barriers. For each of these, we asked: “What’s one thing we could make easier to feel, build, or understand?” That question became our north star as we developed modular, hands-on solutions—whether it was tactile atomic models for chemistry, vibration-based circuits for physics, or audio-guided logic puzzles for math and programming. Each tool was designed to work independently, but together they began forming a library of accessible learning experiences grounded in touch, sound, and interactivity.

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Chemistry

We designed these tactile chemistry kits to help blind students physically understand atomic and covalent bonding. The atomic tiles represent elements, with the number of corners corresponding to their valence electrons — allowing students to build molecules by placing them together. Covalent bonds are shown through interlocking puzzle shapes to reflect how atoms share electrons, and in cases like double bonds, two connectors align to represent stronger sharing. While we knew this wouldn't cover every chemical exception (because, well, chemistry loves exceptions), the goal was to offer a simplified yet meaningful way to feel how molecules form — translating invisible rules into something you can literally put together by hand.

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Physics

In physics education, experiments often rely heavily on visual cues—like dials, LEDs, or oscilloscope readings—to interpret circuit behavior. But for blind students, these visual elements become major barriers. Our prototype reimagines basic circuitry through modular, tactile tiles. Each tile represents a component—battery, resistor, switch, buzzer—etched with both raised linework and braille. When assembled, the tiles physically map the current’s flow, helping students “feel” the logic of the circuit. Instead of relying on visuals, outputs like sound or vibration were proposed as feedback mechanisms. The idea was to create a system that was not just accessible but intuitive—even for everyday users unfamiliar with wires or diagrams.

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Mathematics

To make graphs more accessible for visually impaired students, we designed a tactile graphing board. The concept was intentionally simple and intuitive — a physical grid where learners can plot points using push pins. This allows students to literally feel the structure of a graph, understand spatial relationships, and trace lines or curves without needing visual cues. The axes are marked, and each pin represents a value, helping them develop a sense of scale, coordinates, and geometric patterns purely through touch.

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Robotics and Coding

Working with microcontrollers like Arduino can be daunting for visually impaired students due to the tiny, tightly packed pin configurations and the need for precise wiring. To make this accessible, we 3D-printed a tactile overlay that labels each I/O pin using Braille and raised markings—allowing users to feel and identify the right ports without relying on sight. We also designed attachable tags for jumper wires, so students can label and trace their connections with ease. While still early-stage, these prototypes aim to make hardware interfaces more intuitive and navigable through touch.

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During our user testing sessions with students at the Blind People's Association, we received encouraging feedback across the board. Among the different prototypes, the students responded most enthusiastically to the robotics equipment. Their excitement suggested not only engagement, but genuine interest in exploring this further. Even one of the instructors mentioned that the robotics concept had the most potential, especially compared to others like the chemistry kits. Taking into account both user interest and team alignment, we collectively decided to focus our efforts on advancing the robotics-based tools.

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Bringing It All Together

After testing our initial robotics prototype, we realized there were a couple of things we needed to improve. First, the wiring needed to be simpler and more tactile—easier to plug in, identify, and use by touch. Second, we wanted the kit to be more meaningful—not just a tech demo, but something that helped visually impaired students imagine how they could use technology to build solutions for their own lives.

That’s when we came up with "BuzCap"—a cap fitted with an ultrasonic sensor that detects obstacles and gives feedback through vibration. It was a simple prototype meant to show how assistive tech could be self-made. Our mentor, Mohit Ahuja, suggested we explore Grove modules, which allow sensors and components to snap onto an Arduino board without fiddly wires. That made a huge difference. Prototyping became faster, and the setup was much more accessible.

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But we also saw another major barrier: coding itself. While students were interested in learning programming, screen readers like JAWS often read out entire lines of code at once, which made navigating and editing slow, repetitive, and frustrating.

This led to our second idea—designing a more accessible coding platform. We weren’t reinventing code logic, but the interface. We took inspiration from tools like Scratch, where block-based code makes programming more modular and interactive. At the same time, we drew from Excel-style visual design—dark mode interfaces with high-contrast elements and bold fonts—which many low-vision students were already comfortable with. The result was a conceptual platform where students could code using tactile, high-contrast building blocks—allowing them to focus on logic and structure without getting stuck in the UI.

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You can click here to see the prototype

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