Against the Odds

“You’re just trying to read, but I’m always standing in your light. You’re just trying to sleep, but I always wake you up to apologize. I’m sorry I don’t laugh at the right times.” These are some Lyrics from the song: There, There by the Wonder Years; no lyric has ever described my life better than this song. You see, the reason this song resonates with me is because I have something called Autism. No one knew much about Autism when I was younger, and I wasn’t diagnosed until very late. I grew up in a small Baptist church community, and had known many of my friends from birth and put together in the church nursery. We attended the same church and same school from kindergarten through graduation. So, you could say that we literally grew up together. We had a lot in common, but I was different; my reality was unlike theirs. Looking back at old class photos, I see the shell of a kid who had to imitate others to try and fit in, but never really did. I learned how to communicate through watching TV and my siblings. In fact, my parents would say that when I watched TV it was like I was actually living through it—and I guess, I was. I memorized it. If we’ve met, you’ve probably heard me recant something from a movie or a TV show, and a lot of my jokes are borrowed from some comedian I watched. My sense of style was not my own, but my brother’s. We had the same haircuts, wore the same style clothes, and I would often wear a similar outfit as my brother to school. He didn’t really appreciate this, but I imitated him because I was always around him. I watched him to see how he interacted with others, so I would know what to do. He was my role model. The truth is I don’t really know how to be like him or you. I don’t talk like you, and this has made me distance myself. I wanted so badly to fit in with others but I couldn’t, and I found myself alone in a world where I could see everyone talking and communicating except me. As I got older, the loneliness set in as I began to see my siblings and friends develop deeper relationships with which they could share their lives with others and be happy. I envy that, it’s the one thing I dream of having, but it seems illusive. Still, this is not a story of depression and sadness; it is a story about overcoming the odds and to society that having Autism doesn’t stop me from pursuing my dreams.

My family has been a strong support system for me. I was born on May 23rd in 1997, to a mother who couldn’t be more dedicated to her children. She has demonstrated that she loves me and my siblings unconditionally, and she is willing to do whatever it takes to help us succeed in life. I also have two amazing siblings which are the pillars that hold me up, an aunt who treats me and my siblings as her own kids, and a strong, supportive grandmother who holds the larger family together. This is my family and I could not be any more blessed.

I grew up in Rochester, Michigan, which is a wonderful small town with a park, bike trail, downtown shopping and Dairy Queen nearby. We lived in an old house which was built in 1916; my mom said it had a lot of character and she was always working on it to make improvements. I loved living there and being in Downtown. From the outside looking in, we appeared to have the “perfect” family, but that was not the reality. My parents had an unhealthy marriage, and eventually everything began to breakdown. My home and world was torn apart when my mom filed for divorce (I was 7 at the time). I mentioned earlier that I was raised in a Baptist community. I no longer consider myself a part of the church, but it had a huge impact on my life. Everything revolved around church, and when my parents were in the process of divorce, the church responded in a way that I will never forget. It was a great sin in the church to separate from your spouse, and since my mother was the one who chose to leave the marriage, the congregation was instructed not to fellowship with her. My mother was, metaphorically, stamped with a scarlet letter that also transferred onto me and my siblings. Parents and children were told specifically to stay away from those “Cole” kids. The entire church, including my mom’s friends, shunned her. It was devastating, and hurtful for me to see; this action taken by the church had a significant impact on my life and has played a big role in my story.

All of these events happened in 2005, and at that time, I was not yet diagnosed with ASD. I recall being in the Third grade; my teacher would make us do English, handwriting, calligraphy, cursive and reading. I was terrible at English, my cursive and writing was not neat and learning sentence structure was hard for me. But this was not my biggest challenge, I was also struggling with trying to understand how people thought and interacted (I was 8). Life was difficult, and I didn’t feel like I belonged. This became more apparent to me when it came time to recess. I remember that everyone played together, except me. I didn’t really play with the other students, but when I did, I would just try to go along with the flow. This wasn’t easy. I didn’t know what was happening or what games they were playing; it didn’t make a whole lot of sense to me. They would pretend to be characters like Sonic the Hedgehog, Tails, Knuckles and that whole gang. When I tried to join in they would tell me they had all the characters they needed for the game, so I couldn’t play with them.

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By the 4th grade, I had learned to watch and imitate others. I eventually befriended one of my oldest friends and started to participate in more activities with the other kids. And, there were those that considered me to be their friend, but I still didn’t feel that close to them. We started becoming more “socialized” as a group and had more activities together when we approached our teens. I tried to make myself seem part of the group but I didn’t know how to fit in. I never really talked except for when we were coming up with jokes. During the 6th grade I was diagnosed with Autism and that diagnosis resulted in some extreme changes. It was the last year that I spent in the classroom along with my peers--until my senior year. The next school year marked the rise of my depression, and decrease of my self-esteem.

When I was given a formal diagnosis, my mom met with the school and requested the assistance from the Public School’s Special Education Program to develop an IEP. The testing revealed that I was complicated, and it would take time to determine what issues were primary and how to best assist me. In addition to autism, I was identified as having ADD/ADHD, and speech and language barrier which needed further evaluation. It was recommended that I begin trial medication at this time, which caused a lot of issues. My father did not accept the diagnosis, and neither he nor the church supported my mother’s decision to proceed with medication. They believed that I was immature and my issues were a reflection of a spiritual problem or lack of discipline. So my mother had to obtain a court order to proceed with treatment. No one in our community was familiar with Autism, and the small school staff did not know how to deal with me. They didn’t want me to be disruptive in the classroom. So, they thought it would be a good idea to put me in a room they called “Learning Center” where I could focus on my studies--and I was basically isolated from everyone else. They would let me into the classroom for certain classes but as soon as I talked, I would be sent to either the office or the “Learning Center” and I was not given the opportunity to learn with my peers. I felt so degraded that I would hide behind a cubby and cry (I don’t know how to describe it, but it was like a moveable wall). Some students who saw me in the Learning Center started rumors about me, saying that I was actually dumb and a bad kid. One person even said that I threw a chair at my teacher, which was a lie—and it was hurtful. People chose to believe stories like that about me, and they responded by constantly making fun of me and treating me as if I was stupid. It got so bad for me socially that I was never invited to really anyone’s birthday or other events my friends had, except one that I recall.

I had been isolated for such a long time that I remember being anxious on the first day of 10th grade. I was actually going to be in the classroom with my peers for Algebra Two. I was so nervous that I ran to the bathroom and threw up. Before that, I was spending every day in the learning center except for Bible class, and when we had chapel I always had to sit next to the teacher. The isolation hurt me socially and academically. In addition to being isolated at school, my Dad basically abandoned me and my siblings when I was in the 9th grade, and that really messed with me mentally. By the time I entered my 11th grade year, the waves of depression and anger were drowning me. I had also developed signs of having an allergic reaction to my medication. I was experiencing tremors, pre-seizures and had to undergo testing, which resulted in changing my medication. This was a difficult process that took nearly a year to get the right balance and regain focus and control my moods. I was suspended multiple times for my behavior, and was on the brink of expulsion. I became depressed, and even considered suicide due to all the negativity surrounding me. I remember faking it, acting like I was happy, but I was really a wreck inside. There were some days I just couldn’t hide it though. I never cried so much in my life than that year. My world was collapsing and I wanted to escape. I hit my low point, and then by some miracle, something in me just wanted to fight. This is when I came to terms with myself and the fact that I had Autism, and I decided to embrace it.

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THE TURNING POINT

By 2014, my senior year, I was reintroduced back into the classroom; I attended all of my classes with my peers, for the first time since I was in elementary. I made a promise to myself. It was going to be the year that I would prove myself to others; I was smarter than they thought I was. Guess what? I worked hard, earned a 4.0 and graduated alongside my peers. The success of that year did not fully impact me until I shook hands with the administration. At that moment, I felt a feeling of liberation for the first time. I had passed one of the biggest hurdles in my life. I learned a lot going through those terrible times. On graduation day I realized that the faculty and many other individuals who I interacted with were affected by my struggle too. I had no idea that I was making a difference in their lives, but as they watched me through the years, they were challenged to reevaluate how they looked at me and examine themselves. Several of my teachers approached me to congratulate me on my success and thank me for giving them the opportunity to learn from me. They told me that I taught them how to become better teachers. What a turning point! I didn’t realize the impact I could have to help people gain a better understanding of Autism, while pursuing my interests. I had accepted who I really was and it was the best feeling I‘ve ever had. It’s hard to explain, but it was like taking off a veil. A veil of embarrassment, a veil of non-acceptance, a veil that of deplorability. I took it off and have never looked back.

I attended Oakland Community College, following high school and it was absolutely the best decision for me. There were many reasons I chose a community college: it’s more cost effective; the classes are smaller so it’s easier to ask for help; the smaller campus also gives you more access to your professors and there is opportunity to have more interaction with them. When I started at OCC I was incredibly nervous. This was the first time since Kindergarten, that I didn’t know anyone. It was horrifying, but it made me feel a little better to know that I was not the only one feeling this way. This was also the first time that I had to be my own advocate. I knew it would be hard for me to understand certain questions or take tests without having accommodations in place, so I needed to explain that I had Autism. I took the initiative to meet with my professors to introduce myself. This proved to be a very helpful tool. It opened up communication and when I needed help or there was something I didn’t understand, they took the time to help me and gain a better understanding of Autism. For example, my calculus teacher, who I consider to be one of the best teachers I’ve ever had, wanted to better understand me after I took his first test. Why? Math is one of my strengths. Before he gave that test, he told the class that it was going to be very difficult to get an A on it. I told him that I would get an A+ on his test. He said: let’s see. When I got the test back it showed that I had answered every question right, including the bonus points, and earned a total of 105%. This initial interaction between us was the beginning of our relationship. I learned a lot from him, and he wanted to find out more about me and Autism. I have become aware of how incredibly beneficial it is to explain myself to others. People seem to admire my openness about being Autistic and appreciated my dedication and hard work. Many commented that they often saw me studying in the halls. I am a very diligent student. I didn’t piece it together at first, but I was showing the faculty around me that having autism would not get in my way of pursuing my dreams and my career, and they seem to have a lot of respect for that. I can say without a doubt, I’ve made a strong impact on that school and many of my professors at OCC are interested in my continued success. I value their support and encouragement and will try as much as possible to keep them up to date. Also, the accommodations staff at OCC was phenomenal. They wanted to see me succeed and helped me out a lot when it came close to test dates, so I am very much thankful for them. Over the two years I spent at OCC, I retained a 4.0 GPA, and received the Outstanding Mathematics Award. It was an absolute blessing to work with the staff; they helped me achieve my goal.

While I was at OCC, I applied and later transferred over to the Ross School of Business. This was a dream of mine, and every day that I’m on campus, I am reminded how blessed I truly am. I am so thankful for every person that helped me get there. There are many reasons I chose and wanted to be at Ross. First, I love finance and have been fascinated with it ever since I was 9 years old; at that time our economy was going through the financial crisis of 2007-2008. I see the world from a totally different perspective. I can see trends and seem to have an understanding as to why they are happening. I realize I think differently from others and many people don’t understand me. To be fair, I don’t understand them either, but I want to. It was through this desire to understand people better, that I stumbled across social interactions and valuation. I am fascinated by how people perceive products to have value and are willing to pay more money for them, which translate into profits for the company selling the goods. I also like to research the market and watch for trends to determine which companies are going to drop/ rise. There are so many reasons as to why I love finance; I could go on and on. I believe I will receive the best overall education for business and finance at Ross. Second, the University of Michigan has established a strong support network for people who require special assistance. The culture promotes diversity and inclusion and they have an understanding of Autism which I believe will help me overcome some of the obstacles I have with communication. Third, the school values community and wants to develop leaders who will make a positive difference in the world. I love Ross. I applied to the Ross School of Business in March of 2017; I had spent lot of time preparing my application, and it was stressful for me to press that submit button, because I really wanted to be there. I had talked to the admissions a lot during the process and they were incredibly helpful. After I submitted them my parents, and siblings, suggested that I consider applying somewhere else—as a backup plan, but I didn’t want to go anywhere else. I knew the moment I stepped on campus at Ross that it was where I wanted to be. Transfer students could not be considered for acceptance, until transcripts were received. I purposely submitted mine a few days before my 20th birthday because I wanted it to be a symbolic moment for me. That final submission represented the start of a new decade and of my life. I was coming to the end of a horrific painful chapter in my life and ready to start the next chapter which felt like a fresh slate.

THE NEXT CHAPTER

That summer I was waiting anxiously for a response from Ross. On the 21st of June I received the email I had been waiting for, but I was so nervous that I couldn’t open it. I waited for my mom to get home so we could find out together. I was scared and my legs felt paralyzed, so I asked my mom to read it aloud. As she was reading, she became teary eyed. I asked her nervously if I got in. She looked at me with big tears in her eyes and said: yes, you got in; and at that moment I began to cry. I made it over every obstacle, and did what seemed impossible. I believe that when I finally accepted myself for who I was, I became stronger. People have ideas and perceptions about Autism, which place limitations on how successful people with Autism can be. I am determined to prove them wrong. Because I have Autism, I think differently and have a different way of looking at the world. It’s strength as much as a weakness and I do not have any learning disabilities. There are many other autistic individuals like me. Everyone has strengths and weaknesses. I may not be the best speaker or writer, but I can explain myself enough to get my message across. I am not afraid to ask for assistance, accommodations or use different tools to help me be successful.

I do not think we are deplorable but I believe society sees us that way. We are indeed different. We share common social traits that make us different, but we also vary in our capabilities. It bothers me when I see parents who have an autistic child involved in protests and organize because they believe vaccines caused their child to have Autism. This says to me and others like me that we are not accepted us for who we are. Try to see this from our perspective and embrace us. I don’t need to be cured, and I don’t want to change who I am or what makes me, “me.” I am comfortable being who I am. It’s okay that I think differently, but society as a whole is not as accepting. Many public and private schools isolate autistic students. This is unacceptable; we need to be in the classroom with our peers. It’s important that we learn how to communicate and interact with others. The years I spent in isolation were so difficult. I learned a lot from my situation, and I am thankful that I had a strong support system, which never gave up on me and helped me succeed. I learned to accept myself, identify my strengths and weaknesses so that I could become my own advocate. I know that life is not easy. I have to work hard and I get stressed. I still have challenges and struggle with understanding sentence structure and I do not perform well with certain forms of testing. There is a definite disconnect between what I know in my head and what I can put down on paper, especially when I don’t have the opportunity to have it reviewed. I have fallen down and failed so many times, but I keep getting up. Each time I fail, I have an opportunity to look my mistakes and try to figure out what went wrong. Sometimes I just don’t get it and I need to ask for help, but I’m not afraid to do that. I want to do better the next time. I am determined that I will overcome the hurdles in my life and make what may have seemed impossible, possible. Actually, I have already done that, just by being where I am at today. I am a student at the Ross School of Business; that is quite an accomplishment for anyone. If you have Autism, you’re not alone. Stand up and be proud to be who you are.