Tampa council member pushes to support Tampa’s special needs caregivers

Read the original story in the Tampa Beacon.

---

Tampa City Council member Luis Viera, left, speaks with Yoel Page during a bus ride in April 2023. Photo by JEFFEREE WOO/Tampa Bay Times.

TAMPA — The moment is etched in Luis Vera’s memory: sitting in church as a child with his parents and older brother Juan, who has an intellectual disability, when another family approached. They had started a special needs ministry and invited the Vieras to join.

From there, connections bloomed. They met other parents who understood the unspoken realities — the joy of small victories, the fatigue that never fully lifts, the relief of being seen. That memory has stayed with the Tampa City Council member, shaping both his values and his politics.

“Since I got into office in 2016, making sure that you have respect and dignity for people with intellectual disabilities has always been a passion,” he said.

That sentiment is driving his latest effort: creating a support group for parents and caregivers of people with disabilities.

Years in the making

This wasn’t an idea that appeared overnight. For years, Viera wanted to create a space for parents and caregivers to connect. It finally came together this summer with help from community partners.

The first meeting, held virtually, brought together families from across Tampa. Eleven people attended, and Viera said the feedback was “really, really good.” The response on social media has also been positive.

On Aug. 23, the group will meet in person over coffee at CUP, a café that employs people with intellectual disabilities. Then on Sept. 8, they’ll gather online again. The goal is monthly meetings accessible to both those who prefer face-to-face interaction and those who need to join from home.

When asked whether the group serves as an escape or a resource hub, Viera says it’s both — a place to share experiences “you can’t know if you haven’t been there.”

He compared it to the bond between veterans. Outsiders may offer sympathy, but true understanding comes from shared experience: the diagnosis, the meetings, the first time a child can sit through a movie, a worship service, or a doctor’s visit.

Those moments feel monumental to the people who have walked that road — and so do the fears that keep them up at night.

For many caregivers, that fear is about the future: Who will care for their child when they can’t? In these meetings, those questions can be spoken out loud to people who won’t flinch.

A personal connection

Viera’s connection is deeply personal. His oldest brother, Juan, is “a wonderful guy — just the best guy.” Growing up alongside him taught Viera the joy of small steps and the pain of watching systems fail to keep up. It also gave him a front-row seat to the resilience of families who are quietly navigating a thousand unseen challenges.

Tampa has made progress — sensory-friendly city programs, efforts to fund paid internships for people with intellectual disabilities and first responder training. But much of the real infrastructure, like accessible housing or Medicaid waivers, is set at the state or federal level. Florida’s Medicaid waiver program has a waiting list of 22,000 people, Viera noted. Some families wait a decade for help.

The cultural gap is just as urgent. Society still too often treats people with disabilities as a punchline.

The group’s meetings are intentionally private. No livestreams, no recordings — just a safe space for moms, dads and caregivers to speak openly.

Protecting that privacy protects the mental health and stability of families who may feel isolated everywhere else, Viera said.

“This is an opportunity to try to give them some community,” he said simply.

For him, it’s not about building a platform — it’s about creating a circle, one that mirrors the gift another family once gave his own in that church pew decades ago.

For more information about the parents and caregivers support group, contact Viera at luis.viera@tampagov.net.