Hi, I’m Zoe Li (李卓)

I’m a spatial analyst, urban geographer, and passionate explorer of the fragile connections between people, place, and planning.
我是一名空间分析师、城市地理学者，也是一个热衷于探索人与城市之间微妙关系的观察者。

I recently completed my BA in Human Geography & GIS at the University of Toronto, and this fall, I’ll be joining the Master of Urban Innovation program.
我刚刚在多伦多大学完成了人文地理与GIS专业的本科学习，今年秋天将进入城市创新硕士项目。

My work focuses on transforming geospatial data into insights for climate resilience, disaster risk reduction, and spatial justice—especially for vulnerable groups like low-income seniors and marginalized communities.
我的研究旨在将地理空间数据转化为对气候韧性、灾害风险管理和空间正义的理解，特别关注低收入老年人和边缘化群体。

🌍 Passionate about: Flood resilience, inclusive infrastructure, aging in place, disaster accessibility, and the future of sustainable cities.
对洪水韧性、包容性基础设施、原地养老、灾害可达性及可持续城市的未来充满热情。

Zoe Li portrait

Why I Started Noticing
我是如何开始观察的

My interest in urban resilience and natural hazards didn’t come from textbooks. It started with something simpler: noticing.
我对城市韧性和自然灾害的兴趣并不是来自教科书，而是源于一件更简单的事：观察。

Back at Concordia, I would take long walks around Montréal—not to get anywhere, but to understand.
在康考迪亚读书的时候，我常常一个人沿着蒙特利尔漫无目的地走，不是为了去哪，而是为了理解。

I started noticing how vulnerable groups navigated the city: sidewalks that weren’t wheelchair accessible, neighborhoods with no fresh food stores, and places where public services stopped short.
我开始留意弱势群体是如何在城市中生活的：不适合轮椅通行的人行道、没有生鲜店的街区、以及那些服务止步的边缘地带。

Later, through environmental studies and spatial analysis, I saw the bigger picture: that inequality in daily life is magnified in disaster.
后来通过环境研究和空间分析，我看到了更大的结构：日常生活中的不平等，在灾难来临时会被无限放大。

Climate change isn’t just about weather. It’s about who can leave when floods come—and who can’t. It’s about shelter, clean air, transit, and hope.
气候变化不只是天气的问题，它关乎在洪水来临时谁能离开、谁不得不留下。它关乎避难所、空气、交通，甚至希望。

That’s why I research flood-prone cities—especially densely populated, under-resourced ones.
所以我开始研究易涝城市，尤其是人口密集、资源紧张的区域。

Because resilience isn’t just about bouncing back. It’s about who gets to survive, adapt, and be heard.
因为韧性不仅仅是“恢复”，而是关于谁能活下来、适应下来，并拥有被听见的权利。

If Cities Had Emotions
如果城市有情绪

Sometimes I think: if a city had a mood, Toronto would be nostalgia with a side of anxiety. Montréal feels like getting lost, romantically. Shanghai? Ambition that won’t wait.
有时候我会想，如果一座城市有情绪，多伦多大概是夹杂着焦虑的怀旧，蒙特利尔像是浪漫的迷路，而上海，是不肯等你的野心。

I trace those moods through sidewalk cracks, flickering corner stores, and the apartments people never return to.
我在破损的人行道、深夜还亮着的便利店、以及那些再也没人回来的公寓里，寻找这些城市情绪的踪迹。

I map them—not because they’re visible, but because they’re felt.
我试着把它们画成地图，不是因为它们显眼，而是因为它们有感。

The Soundtrack in My Head
我大脑里的配乐

I loop to focus. Bach's Courante when I need to ground myself. Lo-fi beats when I’m coding. Rainstorm recordings when the world’s too loud.
我靠循环让大脑安静。需要沉下来时听巴赫的 Courante；写代码时放 Lo-fi；世界太吵的时候，就听暴雨录音。

Sometimes, I even listen to French songs I can’t understand—just to let the melody speak instead of the words.
有时我还会听一些我听不懂的法语歌，只是让旋律来说话。

What the Data Doesn’t Say
数据没说的，我来补

My datasets don’t say I once mapped childhood memories with street signs, or that I collect overheard phrases like other people collect souvenirs.
我的数据里没写我小时候用街牌拼出成长地图，也没写我喜欢收集路人对话，就像别人收集纪念品一样。

They won’t tell you that I still believe maps can be poetic—or that every line I draw has a story behind it.
它们不会告诉你，我始终相信地图是有诗意的，也不会告诉你我画的每一条线，背后都有个故事。