Marle Women Julia Watson

MARLE WOMEN
Julia Watson

Photography James K Lowe

MARLE WOMEN
Julia Watson

Photography by James K Lowe

Marle Women is a series that delves into the lives of inspiring women. Through thoughtful and intimate conversations, we uncover the unique journeys and perspectives that shape their stories.

Designer, academic, author, activist, mother—Julia Watson is the author of Lo–TEK: Design by Radical Indigenism, founder of the Lo–TEK Institute, and co-creator of Lo—TEK Living Earth Curriculum, a climate curriculum now taught around the world. Her work spans writing, teaching, and advocacy, grounded in a commitment to bringing Indigenous knowledge systems into the design and climate discourse, and reframing what innovation can truly look like.

We spoke with Julia ahead of the release of her second book, Lo–TEK Water, to reflect on the knowledge systems that shape her work, the ways she’s challenging conventional ideas of innovation, and the daily rituals that keep her grounded.

Fig. 1 JULIA WEARS THE MAGDA JUMPER IN MACADAMIA

Let’s begin simply. How do you introduce yourself and describe what you do?

I usually start by acknowledging the land I’m on—right now, that’s the ancestral land of the Lenape people in Brooklyn, New York. I’m a designer, an academic, a mother, and an activist. At the heart of everything I do is a relationship to land, and a commitment to the communities who’ve long held deep knowledge of it. My work is really about making space, especially in conversations around design, climate, and education, for voices that have often been left out.

That’s taken different forms over the years: writing, public speaking, teaching, and more recently, co-creating curriculum for schools. I’m always thinking about how we might rethink our understanding of innovation—not as something new, but as something to be recognised, respected, and reimagined in collaboration with the knowledge holders who’ve always been here.

You coined the phrase “Lo–TEK” to describe these systems. What does it mean?

It’s a bit tongue-in-cheek. In my field, technologies that aren’t “high-tech” get labelled as “low,” which never sat right with me. Lo–TEK reframes that. It stands for local, traditional, and ecological knowledge. These are sophisticated systems developed by Indigenous and traditional communities. They purify water, grow food, sequester carbon, and support life, often for thousands of years. They're passive, regenerative, and incredibly intelligent. I like to say they use nature as the architect and culture as the engineer.

Where did your passion for sacred landscapes begin—was there a moment when it all came into focus?

There were many, but one that stands out is a conservation project I worked on in Bali. It was the first World Heritage cultural landscape ever ratified there—16,000 hectares of rice terraces and water temples. I came in after the site had been approved to help answer: what now?

As a landscape architect, I was looking at this place through an ecological lens—volcanic soils filtering monsoonal rain, subterranean tunnels distributing water, rice that grows without fertiliser and has for centuries. But what struck me was how these systems were both ecological and sacred. The whole landscape was designed to protect the very things that allow life to continue. It was a moment where everything I knew about design and technology started to shift. What I was seeing wasn’t just tradition—it was technology, but expressed through spiritual and cultural practice.

Your curriculum for high schools—The Lo—TEK Living Earth Curriculum—feels like such a powerful way to shift thinking early. Why did you take that path?

After more than a decade of teaching at places like Harvard and Columbia, I realised how few of my students came from Indigenous backgrounds—and how little of that knowledge was present in the curriculum. It was a real gap. Then one day, I got an email from a high school teacher, Melissa Hunter Gurney, who had been using Lo–TEK in her classroom. She asked, “Have you ever thought about turning this into a curriculum?”

That was the beginning. We co-founded the Lo–TEK Institute and created The Lo—TEK Living Earth Curriculum—a digital climate literacy program for students aged 14 to 18. It centres knowledge systems that have been dismissed, and helps young people understand their place in the world through the lens of traditional ecological knowledge. It’s now being taught in over 150 schools in Canada and used by a global engineering firm as part of their professional development. It’s grown in ways we never expected.

"I’m always thinking about how we might rethink our understanding of innovation—not as something new, but as something to be recognised, respected, and reimagined in collaboration with the knowledge holders who’ve always been here."

With everything you’re doing—writing, teaching, designing, parenting—how do you stay creative?

Writing is a deeply creative process for me. It’s like solving a multidimensional puzzle—complex, layered, and constantly evolving. But I also love working with my hands. I’ve been restoring our old brownstone in Brooklyn—filling cracks in the walls, working on the garden. It’s strangely satisfying.

Right now, I’m developing an installation for Dutch Design Week using biomaterials that will be woven on site. I’ve written screenplays. I draw with my kids. I think I just love the act of making. I don’t really limit myself to a single medium.

What helps you stay grounded amidst all this?

Ayurveda has become a really important part of my life, especially after a difficult postpartum experience with my first child. It gave me tools I still return to. My husband and I divide and conquer—one of us gets to exercise, the other gets the kids ready. We both run our own businesses, so there’s a real need for structure.

At home, I try to reduce waste as much as I can—no paper towels, no tissues, everything biodegradable. It’s a constant reminder to live with care and to consider the impact of the choices we make every day.

Marle works exclusively with natural fibres—materials designed to return to the earth. Are there any biomaterials you find especially inspiring?

So many. I once worked with Nike’s innovation team on rethinking the value chain through a bioeconomy lens, and kelp really stood out. It can be used for food, leather, construction materials, medicinal products, biofuels, dyes, and fertiliser—and it’s an incredible carbon sequesterer. It’s a real wonder material, much like hemp

But the material that continues to completely blow my mind is the single species of reed used by the Madan community in the Southern Wetlands of Iraq. They build entire floating islands with it—houses, livestock feed, columns, mats, rafters. They even make string from it to bind the structures, without using a single fastener. It’s all from one plant.

As a designer, it’s the ultimate example of material intelligence and circular design. And the buoyancy? It’s created through decomposition. The plant’s tissues trap air as they break down. It’s a performance of rot. I mean... it’s extraordinary.

Fig. 2 JULIA WEARS THE ALEX COAT IN TOAST

"Writing is a deeply creative process for me. It’s like solving a multidimensional puzzle—complex, layered, and constantly evolving. But I also love working with my hands. I’ve been restoring our old brownstone in Brooklyn—filling cracks in the walls, working on the garden. It’s strangely satisfying."