Month: September 2025

• In 2010, I moved from Buenos Aires to NYC to get a Master’s degree from Columbia University.
• I got a job before I graduated, and my employer sponsored my H-1B visa.
• My now-husband sponsored my green card through marriage, and in 2021, I became an American citizen.

When I opened the Columbia University admissions email, I wasn’t aware of how much my life was about to change.

At the time, I lived in Buenos Aires, Argentina, and had applied for a Master’s degree in journalism after years of being disillusioned, working in an advertising agency. I made little money and struggled with how long my workdays were and how little time I had for myself. I also felt like I needed a new challenge, and not only changing careers but moving to a new country could provide that for me. The letter welcomed me into the class of 2011, and I had to reread it about 20 times to make sure I wasn’t seeing things.

It’s been 15 years since I moved to the US. Throughout my time here, I have had seven different immigration statuses in the US, including six years with an H-1B visa, before becoming an American citizen.

It was an arduous process that consumed my time, energy, and money, and it wasn’t until I finally had my American passport in hand that I felt I could stop thinking about my immigration history.

I came to get my Master’s degree at an Ivy League school

My initial plan was to move to New York City for the 10-month-long journalism program. I had left a boyfriend, a cat, and a fully furnished apartment back home, along with my entire family. Through Columbia University, I was given an F-1 student visa that allowed me to enter the US legally for the duration of my program.

I remember how out of place I felt during my first weeks of school. I was one of a handful of South Americans who had been accepted into the incredibly competitive program, and unlike many other students, I had no journalism experience. What I did have was a lot of experience in social media and making things go viral. English is also not my first language, and at first, I struggled with communicating 24/7 in it. Sure, I could read a book and watch a movie with no problem, but actually living in the US was a heightened experience.

Before graduating, Columbia University held a job fair. International students were warned that it’d be hard to get hired because sponsoring visas was expensive for employers. I went with little to no hope, and to my surprise, a television network hired me right there and then. When I raised my concerns about being on a visa, they let me know that they’d be applying for my H-1B right away.

I was on an H-1B visa for 6 years

The company that hired me had its own legal team in-house that was incredibly well-versed in work visas. They handled the whole laborious process for me, and I was approved within months.

The one catch was that if I wanted or needed to change employers, a new company had to re-sponsor me. I felt somewhat tied to that job, especially because every time I applied to a new role, I would get asked the same question, “Will you need sponsoring in the future?” which almost immediately meant a rejection was coming my way.

I worked at that job for two years of my three-year max before needing to have my H-1B visa renewed. When I found another role at a different company that was more interesting to me, I applied, disclosing that I had a work visa that needed to be transferred and eventually renewed. Being trilingual — I am fluent in Spanish, Portuguese, and English — played in my favor because they were looking for someone to explore taking the company into Latin America.

While it was nerve-racking because there’s always a chance that your visa will be denied, the initial transfer and following renewal process went smoothly. I had to travel to Argentina often to get my visa restamped with my new employer’s name on it and undergo extensive interviews to ensure I was still the best candidate for that specific job.

Even though I’d go to Argentina often for visa-related issues, I still missed out on big family and friend events, such as my nephew’s birth and my best friend’s wedding. While my visa was being renewed, I couldn’t leave the US. It sucked, but losing my ability to stay legally in the US would’ve sucked more.

My husband sponsored my green card

Because the H-1B visa is a “double intent” visa, I was allowed to apply for a green card or permanent residency. This could be done either through my employer or through marriage.

Right before I was about to hit my maximum of six years on an H-1B, my employer let me know that they were not moving forward with my green card application because it was too expensive. I needed to either move back to Argentina and continue working for them from there or find a new job that would sponsor me.

When I found out, I was already engaged to my now-husband, and we decided to apply for a green card through marriage. He became my sponsor, and we had to prove through extensive paperwork and interviews that we were, in fact, lawfully and truthfully married. We filed about six months after getting married because that’s how long it took us to gather all the supporting documents we needed.

My green card was approved in 2018, months after the birth of our first child and a year and a half after we first applied. This card allowed me to live in the US legally and work for any employer without needing sponsorship anymore.

It felt freeing. I stopped working full time as a journalist and decided to freelance for companies like Netflix and Sundance. This also meant that I wasn’t questioned about my work every time I entered the US because nothing on my passport or green card was tied to an employer. And while a green card can always be removed by USCIS, it did feel like a more stable step in my immigration journey than having an H-1B.

While on my green card through marriage, I still was not allowed to vote, nor get divorced from my spouse, or I’d lose my legal status.

In 2021, I became an American citizen

After four years on my green card and having had two more children, I decided to apply for American citizenship. I wanted to have the same passport as my children. As an immigrant, my mind would always jump to the worst-case scenario, and I worried about Argentina being put on a travel ban list, for example. Every time we traveled, my husband and kids went through one line at the border, and I went through another, and I always panicked that we would get separated.

The process of applying for citizenship was the easiest in my over a decadelong experience with visas. It took me about two months from applying to becoming a naturalized citizen. I had to take an English test and a civics test, and that was it.

While my intention when I first came to the US was not to stay forever — and that is still the case — I’m grateful that I was able to navigate the gruesome and sometimes incredibly discouraging US immigration system. I don’t take it for granted. And more importantly, I’m relieved that I don’t have to spend more time or money on never-ending applications.

• Mark Zuckerberg said he asked for the prototype of a Nano Foudroyante watch because he’s a “builder type of person.”
• The Greubel Forsey watch retails for around $585,000, and supply was limited to 22 timepieces when it debuted.
• Zuckerberg has an extensive watch collection, including one other $900,000 Greubel Forsey, the Hand Made 1.

Mark Zuckerberg is a fan of showing off prototypes — and apparently buying them too.

The Meta CEO has an extensive collection of watches, ranging from a flashy yellow-gold Rolex to a simple $120 Casio. Zuckerberg also has at least two timepieces from Swiss watchmaker Greubel Forsey, one of which is a prototype containing the watchmaker’s new complication.

Speaking with Drip, Zuckerberg flashed his Nano Foudroyante, a watch with a reported retail price of 465,000 francs — roughly $585,000 in today’s dollars.

“They said that if I wanted, I could get one of the early ones that they made,” Zuckerberg said. “I’m more of a work-in-progress, builder type of person, so I actually just asked them if I could get the prototype.”

“I don’t know if they normally do that, but they figured out how to do that for me,” he added.

The Nano Foudroyante is Greubel Forsey’s 10th “Fundamental Invention,” and was limited to only 22 timepieces in its release.

In watchmaking, a “foudroyante” denotes a subdial that measures fractions of a second. For Greubel Forsey, this means that one hand completes one revolution per second, dividing the second into six distinct beats. You can see the complication up close in the video below.

The company also says the watch is more energy efficient. While a traditional foudroyante consumes 30 microjoules per jump, the Nano Foudroyante consumes only 16 nanojoules, according to Greubel Forsey.

Zuckerberg owns at least one other Greubel Forsey watch: a $900,000 Hand Made 1. Zuckerberg wore the timepiece in his video announcing the end of Meta’s US fact-checking partnerships.

Unlike competitors Apple and Google, Meta has not released a smartwatch to compete for wrist space with traditional timepieces. The company’s hardware push has looked up toward the eyes, where Meta has released a variety of smart glasses, including the new $800 Ray-Ban Display Glasses.

The company is launching a wrist device alongside the glasses, though it doesn’t tell the time.

When Zuckerberg announced the new AI glasses on stage, both of his wrists were occupied: one with his watch, the other with Meta’s neural band, which controls the glasses.

• Dennis Tran says being autistic helped him excel in quality assurance without a tech degree.
• Tran’s autism diagnosis in 2020 helped him understand his unique problem-solving skills.
• He now thrives in roles valuing neurodiversity, working with Community-led Autism Research.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Dennis V. Tran, a 32-year-old research collaborator in Los Angeles. Business Insider has verified Tran’s employment history with documentation. The following has been edited for length and clarity.

I wasn’t diagnosed with autism until late 2020 at 27 years old. But as a professional with autism, my skills gave me an edge in breaking into quality assurance (QA) without a tech degree.

During my undergraduate studies, I didn’t know what QA was or that it could be a viable career option. After graduating in 2015 with a degree in public health policy, I applied for an internship at a healthcare startup, and they assigned me to my first real taste of QA. From there, I transitioned into software QA almost by accident.

I’ve learned that autism isn’t a limitation. It allows me to innovate, problem-solve, and build systems that serve people better. It’s my superpower.

I never planned on working in the tech industry

While at the University of California, Irvine, I became involved in research labs and clinical research. I monitored metrics, kept experiments on track, and streamlined iPad processes in trials.

After graduating and completing my internship, a marketing colleague posted about me on social media to help me find work. A QA software company, Vablet, saw it and took me on.

I had no tech background, but I taught myself everything from scratch. I’d quickly glance over tutorial videos and the user guide, but most importantly, I just spent time playing and using the app and platforms. I was able to grasp platforms with ease within a couple of hours and days, which helped set me up for success in my role.

Before my autism diagnosis, I struggled to understand why I seemed to have more difficulty than others

I struggled with forming deep connections and friendships. After college, it became even lonelier.

Despite excelling in my QA role, the job ultimately became repetitive, and I needed novelty, innovation, and challenge. I worked at Vablet from 2016 to 2022. I had a difficult time finding a new job elsewhere. I’d send applications, but nothing landed.

After a family member suggested I might be autistic, I went to fill out questionnaires with a psychiatrist and was formally diagnosed. I started to understand I’d been living a neurodivergent life all along.

That’s when I learned the statistic that 85% of college grads with autism are unemployed or underemployed. I realized my brain works differently. I could accomplish tasks in months that employers thought required five years of experience, but I didn’t fit their expectations.

People often call me unique and rare. My diagnosis gave me a sense of empowerment, but it negatively affected my self-esteem and worth, as I kept getting turned down for jobs. Because I couldn’t get a full-time job, I felt like a failure, despite my previous achievements.

After my diagnosis, I had to unmask

After my diagnosis, it became clear that I wanted to thrive and coexist with my disability & neurodivergence, so I reached out to a life coach.

Since working with my life coach, I started my own podcast and journey to help others, and this led to the advocacy work I do today and being open about who I am, my mental health, and my disability. For years, I had operated in survival mode, adapting to fit environments that weren’t built for me. When I stopped masking, I had to relearn how to use my skills authentically.

My autism enables me to identify what others often miss: inefficiencies, bottlenecks, and trends. I translate those insights into strategy, making systems more intuitive, responsive, and human. When I’m engaged, I hyperfocus with precision and produce high-quality, thoughtful work. I approach problems differently, with creativity and nonlinear thinking, which often leads to innovative solutions.

My autism makes me a systems thinker with a big-picture vision. I don’t just fix problems, I redesign processes to be more inclusive and effective.

I thrive in spaces that value my differences

I wanted to work in the disability and neurodiversity space, so in May, I started my new role as a research collaborator for Community-led Autism Research, Engagement, and Service (CARES). Instead of struggling to fit in, I’ve found places where my autism is seen as an asset. These environments let me leverage my skills fully and communicate my needs more clearly.

It’s painful when people see disability or neurodivergence as less than, but the stigmas reflect a system that hasn’t caught up, not our worth.

Being autistic, ADHD, partially blind, queer, and Vietnamese American from a low-income household isn’t something to hide; it’s what makes me who I am. What once felt like a weakness has become my superpower.

Do you have a story to share about being neurodiverse in tech? Contact the editor Tess Martinelli at tmartinelli@businessinsider.com.