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This student profile has been archived and is no longer being updated.
This student profile has been archived and is no longer being updated.
To me, being a Public Scholar means moving knowledge out of paywalled journals and into kitchens, clinics and gurduars (places of worship). It’s designing questions with communities rather than about them; treating lived experience as theory-rich and holding myself accountable for usefulness, not just novelty. Rigour shows up as transparency and ethics; impact shows up as reduced stigma, earlier help-seeking and tools people actually use.
To me, being a Public Scholar means moving knowledge out of paywalled journals and into kitchens, clinics and gurduars (places of worship). It’s designing questions with communities rather than about them; treating lived experience as theory-rich and holding myself accountable for usefulness, not just novelty. Rigour shows up as transparency and ethics; impact shows up as reduced stigma, earlier help-seeking and tools people actually use. In practice, that means co-creating Panjabi resources, making everything open-access and iterating based on community feedback. It also means changing the university from within — recognizing plain-language videos and guides as legitimate scholarly outputs and mentoring peers to do knowledge translation well. Ultimately, a Public Scholar returns knowledge to the people whose stories make it possible — so research doesn’t just describe the world; it helps heal it.
The PhD can be re-imagined as a community co-lab, not a solo marathon. With PSI, I’d normalize structures that make scholarship legible and useful to Panjabi communities: (1) build Community Advisory Boards into programs from day one — budgeted for honoraria and translation; (2) treat transcreation (Panjabi-English videos, guides, WhatsApp blurbs) as core scholarly outputs, archived alongside the thesis; (3) require a plain-language and Panjabi summary of every chapter; (4) replace one traditional seminar with a community practicum hosted by partners; (5) allow mixed-format dissertations (articles and knowledge translation portfolio and reflection on ethics and power); (6) invite community reviewers to comment on relevance, not just methods and (7) add language access and culture-centred design modules (e.g., working with concepts like izzat (honour), seva (unconditional service), sangat (community), and incorporating story circles/faith-based venues such as gurduaras). A PSI-shaped PhD would measure success by rigour and resonance: do families understand it, can providers use it and does it create understanding? That’s the kind of training that prepares scholars to serve the public — within and beyond the university.
I see my PhD as the launchpad for Kosh Health, a Panjabi Health Communication Lab that turns research into practical tools for families, clinicians and schools. In the near term I’ll work as a knowledge-translation lead in a health authority or large community agency, scaling Panjabi-English transcreation toolkits on mental disorders across communities — while teaching as a practice-focused faculty member. Kosh Health will anchor both paths: (1) a research-to-resources pipeline built from my PSI portfolio; (2) teaching and mentorship, including practice-based courses in culture-centred design, language access and CBPR, with community practica and (3) systems and policy advising, producing plain-language briefs and open educational resources that ministries and health authorities can adopt.
I work with Panjabi communities and service providers from the outset. We co-design plain-language, culturally resonant materials; test early drafts with a small advisory group and refine based on practical feedback. The resources are shared through everyday community settings (e.g., faith spaces, schools, clinics) and released open-access so others can adapt and use them. Whenever possible, I also offer brief “how to use this” sessions so frontline staff feel confident introducing the tools to families.
I want Panjabi families to access support earlier and with dignity — and I see the public good as more than reducing stigma. My work translates complex ideas about autism, ADHD, learning/communication and intellectual disability into plain-language, Panjabi-English tools that fit everyday life (short videos, simple guides, service maps, IEP basics, rights-and-benefits checklists). These resources speak to the real conditions families face in globalized, precarious economies — shift work, childcare costs, paperwork barriers, digital access — so care doesn’t depend on free time or fluency. Frontline staff gain ready-to-use, culturally safe materials they can share in faith spaces, schools and clinics, improving trust and day-to-day communication. Everything is open-access so community groups can adapt and reuse without cost. In the longer term, this approach supports more equitable service planning (by making needs visible), lightens unpaid care burdens that fall disproportionately on women and offers a replicable model other immigrant communities can use. In short, this means practical tools that meet people where they are, while naming and easing the structural pressures — economic, bureaucratic, linguistic — that shape their choices.
I pursued graduate study to turn frontline experience into structural change. As a medical interpreter and KT specialist, I saw how Panjabi families hit language, stigma, and system barriers. A PhD gives me the theory, methods, and partnerships to build practical tools, inform policy, and teach the next generation to do community-engaged, culturally safe public health.
UBC sits where my work needs to happen: Metro Vancouver’s large Panjabi communities, partners like Fraser Health/BC CDC and a public-health ecosystem.