Embracing Evolution: Elsa Ponce on Access to Third Spaces, Trust in Solidarity, and the Practice of Care
Elsa Ponce in her living room, standing next to an illustration of Impermanencias, her Mexico City-based research and design project. Portrait by Michele De Maria.
By Julia Gamolina
Elsa Ponce is a Mexican-born licensed architect, educator, and interdisciplinary designer. She leads Studio Elsa Ponce, an architecture practice dedicated to designing community centers, workers’ hubs, and spaces for civic engagement and activism in New York City and Mexico City. Her work has been supported by NYSCA, Mexico’s Endowment for the Arts, Art Omi, and the Rema Hort Mann Foundation. She teaches at the Spitzer School of Architecture in New York and is a co-founder of WIP Collaborative. In her interview with Julia Gamolina, Elsa talks about embracing evolution and trusting in solidarity, advising those just starting their careers to remember that frustration leads to growth.
JG: I know that with your practice, Studio Elsa Ponce, you are collaborating with nonprofits like the Workers Justice Project (WJP) and New Immigrant Community Empowerment (NICE) Given the note that we're starting 2025 on, what are you thinking most about in terms of your collaborations as we look ahead to the new year? What should all of us be aware of and thinking about as well?
EP: Working with organizations like WJP and NICE has reinforced just how important it is to create spaces where people can gather, learn, and protect their rights. But these relationships didn’t just happen—they grew from a self-initiated advocacy project I started years ago with women day laborers at La Parada, a precarious hiring site in Brooklyn. That experience taught me something I can’t emphasize enough: we as architects have the power to take initiative. We don’t have to wait for permission to start the projects we believe in.
Moments of turmoil—like the one we’re living through now—can be powerful catalysts for meaningful work. I think about how Madame Architect came to life in 2018 or how WIP Collaborative formed during the pandemic. These weren’t just responses to the moment; they were opportunities to build something lasting and necessary.
As we step into 2025, I think about the importance of more spaces where people can come together, whether that’s a community center, a public plaza, or someone’s living room. The threats to our rights are growing, especially for immigrant communities, and isolation only makes it worse. Yet, despite the forces of division, we are also witnessing powerful moments of solidarity—through mutual aid, organizing, or simply showing up for one another. It’s a reminder that we are not alone in this. The most radical thing we can do now is care for each other, recognizing that we are all connected. MLK put it best when he said, “What affects one of us directly affects us all indirectly.”
Co-design workshop for NICE Station with New Immigrant Community Empowerment (NICE) staff and Studio Elsa Ponce. Photo by Chi Chi Wakabayashi.
Elsa collaborating with representatives of Los Deliveristas Unidos on the design of the Worker’s Justice Hub. Photo by Ligia Guallpa.
Now let's go back a little bit — tell me about why you studied architecture, and how you chose where you studied architecture (i.e. why that school)?
When I was six, my piano teacher began calling me her 'little architect' because I would bring a hand-drawn house as a gift to every lesson. At the time, I had no clue what an architect was, but something about the word stuck with me. I’ve loved drawing and building imaginary worlds for as long as I can remember.
My dad encouraged me to consider a career in the visual arts, but I decided to give architecture a try. At the time, it felt like an entirely foreign idea—I didn’t know anyone in my close circles with an arts background. At seventeen, I started my Bachelor’s in Architecture and Urbanism at Universidad Iberoamericana in Mexico City—the same school where architects I deeply admire, like Tatiana Bilbao, Frida Escobedo, and Fernanda Canales, had studied. I was the youngest and the shyest in my class, completely out of place in a new city where I had no friends or network to lean on. It shook my sense of self and I wasn’t sure if I’d make it.
But as time went on, I found my circle—friends, mentors, and a sense of belonging—and that made all the difference. I reclaimed the freedom to experiment, discover my voice in design, and fall in love with the creative, projective side of architecture. In the end, I graduated with honors and was awarded the best thesis of the year—which still shocks me. I wasn’t trying to compete; I was just doing work I genuinely cared about, out of curiosity and passion.
I relate to your experience of losing your sense of self, finding your voice, and graduating with honors completely. Now I’d love to hear about your experiences working for various offices before starting your practice. What did you learn that you still apply today?
I graduated in early 2009, during the global financial crisis, when jobs were scarce. I had done a couple of internships, which gave me some experience, and I was fortunate to land a job at TEN Arquitectos in Mexico City. There was so much to learn, which is why I stayed for six years—three in Mexico City and three in New York. In the New York office, I was lucky to be mentored by Andrea Steele, who played a big role in my professional development. Through that experience, I realized that what excited me most was exploring new ways of practicing architecture—perhaps at its margins or at the intersection with other design disciplines. I became increasingly curious about design as a process for creating value beyond just buildings.
That curiosity led me to pursue a master’s in Design Management at Pratt, where I learned to collaborate with people outside my field. Along the way, I’ve had the opportunity to work at design consultancies like 2x4 and Standard Issue, where I learned that process and intellectual rigor are just as important as the tangible outcomes of design. These interdisciplinary environments also exposed me to better work-life balance and compensation compared to traditional architecture firms—an important lesson as I now work to stabilize my independent practice. Finally, my time at Tatiana Bilbao Studio in Mexico City reinforced the importance of practicing with unwavering integrity and care.
“We as architects have the power to take initiative. We don’t have to wait for permission to start the projects we believe in.”
How did the various practices you are involved with come about — your own studio, WIP, the Open Architecture Collaborative?
I started Studio Elsa Ponce because I wanted to explore my own design voice and work on projects that specifically resonated with me. I also wanted to experiment with participatory methods, especially with communities I hadn’t had much opportunity to work with before. As a minority architect, I care deeply about representation and creating environments that reflect the people who need them most—and for that to happen, communities must be heard and seen. Another key reason for starting my practice was the realization that I wanted to become a parent someday. Running a business and raising a family is demanding, but having control over my schedule has made it more manageable.
My involvement with WIP Collaborative and the Open Architecture Collaborative grew from a desire to be part of a larger community of designers working together toward a bigger vision. WIP Collaborative was established when we won a design competition with our project Restorative Ground, a design proposal in response to an RFP organized by the Urban Design Forum. The seven of us who co-founded it—Abby Coover, Bryony Roberts, Lindsay Harkema, Ryan Brooke Thomas, Sera Ghadaki, Sonya Gimon, and I—have continued to collaborate on research and design projects, bringing in designers outside of the founding group. Before WIP Collaborative became a practice, Lindsay Harkema started WIP: Work In Progress | Women In Practice, a peer network for women architects and designers.
Looking back at it all, what have been the biggest challenges?
One of the toughest things about being a solopreneur is staying disciplined and on track. Being immersed in the day-to-day can sometimes make it hard to see the bigger picture or find the paths that will lead to the next stage of growth. As a parent to a young child, my energy levels are also something I need to manage carefully.
Early on, I also struggled with helping clients understand my role and responsibilities—many had never worked with an architect, and their centers had never been designed before. At first, it felt like a strain, but I realized that sharing this knowledge was part of the job. So, we got creative and designed a series of comics to tell a story about what we do and to present our portfolio of projects in a more relatable way. I’m also in the process of renaming our services using clearer, more approachable language to make the process feel less intimidating.
How do you manage through perceived disappointments or setbacks?
Relying on community has really helped maintain excitement around my work. Since last year, I’ve been part of the Social Architecture track at NEW INC, the New Museum’s incubator for creatives working at the intersection of art, design, and technology. There, I’ve had the privilege of working closely with incredible mentors like Isabel Flower and Marc Rabinowitz. They’ve been invaluable sounding boards, helping me take the necessary risks to refine and evolve my practice, and encouraging me to leverage creativity as a problem solver. This program has been a huge part of the development and growth of Studio Elsa Ponce, pushing me to focus on public interest design rather than just responding to the demands of the real estate market.
Tidal Shift by WIP Collaborative at The Shed’s Plaza. Photo by Michael Vahrenwald.
WIP Collaborative founding members Abby Coover, Lindsay Harkema, Elsa Ponce, and Sera Ghadaki with artist and collaborator Colleen McCarten, in front of Tidal Shift at The Bentway’s Plaza in Toronto, Canada. Photo courtesy of WIP Collaborative.
What have you also learned in the last six months?
I’ve learned the importance of adaptability and resilience in the face of unexpected turns. The work of Studio Elsa Ponce is constantly impacted by political shifts, making each project its own unique journey—one that is often slow and complex, with an uncertain path ahead.
The project we are working on with the Worker's Justice Project—the Hub network, which provides community centers for delivery, cleaning, and construction workers—is facing abrupt challenges. Federal funding for the project was temporarily frozen due to executive actions from the new administration, and some key supporters, like deputy mayors, have resigned unexpectedly. It’s been a tough adjustment, and while I’ve always known the work we do isn’t linear, experiencing such drastic shifts has been a new lesson for me. Similarly, the long-term vision for NICE Station—a future community center in Jackson Heights, Queens, in collaboration with New Immigrant Community Empowerment—faces a long road to securing capital funding.
From all of this, I’ve learned not to let setbacks lead to despair but to stay focused on how best to support our project’s mission each day. That often means going beyond design—engaging in advocacy, building networks, and finding new ways to push the work forward. My communities are showing me how to stay grounded and how important it is to trust in solidarity.
“Failure and frustration aren’t barriers; they’re part of the process. Growth comes from pushing through those moments, so don’t shy away from them.”
Who are you admiring now and why?
I've been craving moments of calm and reassurance, and it’s got me thinking a lot about my mom and grandmother. My mom surprised us all when she decided to start a career in politics, in her 60s. She has spent the last few years in public office, fighting against gender violence—no small feat in a country like Mexico, where this work can be incredibly difficult and even dangerous. I’m in awe of her courage—how she stepped into this demanding role with no prior experience, simply because she knew that justice mattered more than anything.
My grandmother, Catalina is fiercely independent yet deeply connected to her family, her community, and the world around her. I admire the way she moves through life with such quiet strength—how she nurtures her relationships, tends to her garden, cares for her body, and seems to instinctively understand the deep interconnectedness of everything. More than anything, I admire the bond between my mom and my grandma. It’s the kind of connection I hope to nurture and carry forward with my own daughter.
What is the impact you’d like to have on the world? What is your core mission? And, what does success in that look like to you?
My core mission is to increase access to third spaces that truly resonate with communities—spaces that honor and celebrate their lives while also helping to build the organizational strength needed for underrepresented groups to thrive. Community-engaged design and co-design have been central to overcoming knowledge gaps and to ensuring that the process and outcomes have a positive, lasting impact on the people who will benefit most. Participation has also been fundamental in helping me shape the core values of my practice—values rooted in social, environmental, and intergenerational justice.
My passion is also in empowering the people leading these vital projects — helping build the capacity, knowledge, and networks they need to sustain and steward these spaces long term is just as important. Sustainability is key, especially when services offered—like legal support, job training, meals, and emergency aid—are critical lifelines for so many immigrants and vulnerable communities.
Interior rendering of the Worker’s Justice Hub, Williamsburg location. Designed by Studio Elsa Ponce.
Elsa presenting her projects and practice at the Social Architecture Stage Talks during New Museum's NEW INC DEMO Festival, summer 2024, at WSA Manhattan. Photo courtesy of NEW INC.
Finally, what advice do you have for those starting their career? Would your advice be any different for women?
Failure and frustration aren’t barriers; they’re part of the process. Growth comes from pushing through those moments, so don’t shy away from them. One way to stay intentional is to write a professional development plan with mid- and long-term goals, defining what success looks like for you. Having this direction will help you make more intentional choices.
Also, don’t just rely on self-reflection—ask for feedback. Others can see strengths in you that you might not recognize. The better you become at articulating your strengths and values, the more opportunities will align with your passions.
For women, I’d add this: practice with focus, but leave room for fluidity. Gender is not a rigid box, and neither is your career. Allow yourself the space to explore who you are beyond conventional norms — identity is expansive and ever-evolving, just like the work you do. Embrace that evolution, and let it guide you.
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.