PROFILE - DECEMBER 2019



SKYGAZING





My twin brother feels at peace when he’s looking up at the sky.


In the heart of Florida International University’s main campus, spilled throughout bustling West Miami, he likes to go to a quiet courtyard coined the Sky Lounge. The atrium is well known for its cobalt glass underfoot; a stark contrast from the thousands of vibrant emerald air plants and stainless-steel rings that droop from the ceiling. On a breezy day, you can see the art pieces sway above as you lay down on circular, flying sauceresque benches.


Students are told that the Sky Lounge is intended to give you a flipped perspective of the world: the blue floor representing the sky and the green plants on the roof being the ground.


For Michael Tamayo, 20, perspective is everything. Sprawled out on those silver benches, looking up at the clear azure sky on a humid Friday with a belly full of Thanksgiving leftovers, wearing his favorite black tee from the sitcom “Friends,” he can be vulnerable here.





Michael enjoys going to the Sky Lounge at his university to reflect.




“When I’m laying here, I remember that the only limit is the sky,” Tamayo said. “I think to myself, look how many possibilities are out there. I feel inspired to do the things I want to do.”


In many ways, Tamayo is like any other college student at his university. He runs late to class. He grabs food at Miami’s quintessential fast-food chain, Pollo Tropical. He likes to hang out with his friend Simon. But when he presses the door-accessibility button for Simon, who cannot walk properly, sometimes he’s reminded of his own differences.


Tamayo has autism. He realizes some people will reduce him to one of those “special” kids who has a buddy in a wheelchair. And you know what? He has learned not to care.


“At the beginning,” Tamayo said, “I really paid attention to what other people thought about me. Now I’m a junior and I know I belong here, so if other students don’t like me, then that’s their problem.”


Statistically speaking, out of 59 children born, Tamayo was the one to be diagnosed with autism. While scientists haven’t identified a single cause for the developmental disorder, the organization Autism Speaks suggests that “autism develops from a combination of genetic and nongenetic, or environmental, influences.” Furthermore, Tamayo is one of the 50,000 teens who “enter adulthood and age out of school-based autism services” every year.


Autism affects the way that the brain develops and processes information. It first emerges in early childhood and is usually diagnosed before the teenage years, but some people are not diagnosed until adulthood. Social, communication and behavioral problems are the main challenges that autistic individuals face, although the disorder is on a spectrum and everyone experiences autism differently.


“We like to say in the field that once you’ve met one person with autism, you’ve only met one person with autism,” said Jennifer Feinstein, a case manager at the University of Miami’s Center for Autism and Related Disabilities (CARD).


Feinstein, who has an autistic son herself, says the spectrum is very broad and the severity of the symptoms depends on if the person is highly impacted or minimally impacted.


“For example,” Feinstein said, “when looking at expressive language, people with autism can range from being nonverbal to incredibly well-spoken.”


In Tamayo’s case, his parents say they noticed he started showing signs of developmental delay and ADD before kindergarten. Twenty years later, he is still having difficulties in school.


“My autism affects me academically and socially,” Tamayo said. “When a professor speaks in class, it takes me on average 15 to 30 minutes to process the information. Sometimes, it takes over an hour. I have to really listen to lectures more than other people to learn anything.”


And sometimes, those professors aren’t the most understanding. During Tamayo’s sophomore year, his writing teacher told him that since he wasn’t working towards a degree, he didn’t need to worry about getting a good grade in the class. That didn’t sit well with him.


“She made me feel really upset and I was angry with myself,” said Tamayo, after taking a deep breath. “I felt like everyone else with degrees were better than me. It took me about nine months to finally accept that I wasn’t going to get a degree here. For a long time, I wasn’t motivated to do my assignments or anything because I didn’t see a point in putting in the work.”


Tamayo is in a specialized program at his university called Embrace which caters to adults who have developmental, intellectual and neurological disabilities. People in the program get to experience the “college” life and audit elective classes that interest them. The goal of Embrace is to “help these persons lead healthy lives and maximize their individual potential across their lifespan.”


From money management to learning how to fold clothes, Tamayo said he’s learned valuable skills. Mock interview practice eventually helped him land a job at a local grocery store. In fact, he’s working towards being promoted right now. Being a bag boy is too easy for him.




Photo Credit: @fiuembrace





Michael and his FIU Embrace classmates before the university's homecoming football game.




According to Autism Speaks, nearly half of autistic 25-year-olds haven’t had a paid job.


Feinstein says several challenges stop autistic adults from entering the workforce, including a lack of motivation and understanding, poor social skills, fear of change and employer discrimination.


“It can be very difficult to get someone with autism out of their comfort zone to do something new,” Feinstein said. “Some people might not understand why they need to make money and would rather play their video games all day.”


And while there are some days that Tamayo would rather listen to 90s music on repeat in his bedroom, he says he likes going to work every day because he is breaking down the stereotype that people with disabilities are hopeless, or even what someone once muttered at him: retarded.


“I want people to know to know that there’s a lot more to me than my learning challenges,” Tamayo said. “I’m a very creative person. I’m a very artistic person. I’m a sponge and I’ll soak up any information I can get my hands on. I’m different. I’m Michael.”


My twin brother is a lot of things. He’s an avid shower singer. He’s a history buff. He’s an undiagnosed savant who can tell you what day of the week it will be on January 1, 2200, without any hesitation; he said it would be a Wednesday and Google confirmed he’s right. And when he’s lying down at the Sky Lounge, sun rays bouncing off his light brown eyes, he takes a moment to stop and think to himself: “


What’s the next thing I can conquer?”