Yohocare

When I moved to the United States in 2008, I was starting over in almost every sense. I didn’t have a car, a job, or much of a social support network. It was an isolating time, and one of the people who made that transition easier was my landlord, Judy.

Judy did much more than rent me a place to live. She showed me around the neighborhood, helped me understand my new surroundings, and offered support when I needed it most. In a place that still felt unfamiliar, her kindness helped me feel a little more at home.

Over time, though, I began to notice small changes. Judy would forget things or become confused in ways that seemed different from before. At first, I didn’t fully understand what I was seeing. Eventually, I learned that she had Alzheimer’s disease.

Watching someone who had once helped me find my footing begin to lose some of her own changed the way I thought about aging and brain health. I began wondering what happens before a diagnosis—during the time when subtle changes may already be appearing, but neither the person nor those around them fully understand what they mean.

That experience stayed with me. It made me wonder whether there might be ways to help people recognize changes earlier, better understand what may be happening, and give families more time to talk, seek support, and prepare for what comes next.

Years later, Alzheimer’s became part of my family’s story when my husband’s father was diagnosed. The questions I had first encountered through Judy suddenly became personal in another way. I began thinking more deeply about what families need when facing cognitive decline, and whether research, technology, and better access to information could make that experience a little less uncertain.

Those experiences eventually became part of the reason I started Yohocare and continue to shape the questions I’m exploring through the work today.

Through Yohocare, I’m exploring how research, behavioral science, and technology might help people engage with brain health and healthy aging earlier before a moment of crisis makes the conversation unavoidable.

My work spans research, product strategy, and early-stage development. I spend time reviewing evidence, understanding how people think about brain health, exploring what motivates people to take action, and translating those insights into ideas that can be tested and refined.

I’m also interested in how everyday technologies, from wearables to conversational tools and AI, might help make health information more understandable and personally meaningful. Rather than starting with a technology and looking for a problem to solve, I try to begin with people: what they need, what feels useful in daily life, and what might make it easier to stay engaged over time.

As Yohocare evolves, much of my work is about learning through experimentation, testing assumptions, listening to feedback, and gradually shaping an experience that feels practical, supportive, and human.

One of the biggest lessons from building Yohocare is that healthy aging is about much more than healthcare. Everyday habits, relationships, motivation, access to information, and the communities around us all shape how we experience aging. Technology may be able to support that process, but it is only one part of a much larger picture.

I’m also learning that engagement has to come before technology. A tool can have sophisticated features, but if people don’t understand why it matters to them, trust it, or find it easy to use in everyday life, the technology itself has limited value. That has pushed me to spend more time understanding people’s needs, motivations, and concerns before deciding what to build.

Perhaps most importantly, this work keeps bringing me back to a simple idea: design should begin with people, not features. I find myself asking less, “What can the technology do?” and more, “What would actually help someone feel more informed, supported, and in control of their own health?” That shift continues to shape how I think about Yohocare and the kind of experience I want to create.