Brickell City Centre — Attraction in Miami

Every time I walk through Brickell City Centre, I’m reminded of what competence, pride, and professionalism actually look like. The space is beautiful, the operations are smooth, the staff are attentive — it’s a masterclass in how things should work in a modern city. People take ownership of their work, there’s attention to detail, and you leave feeling respected. It’s clean, efficient, and simply works.

Then you look at the University of Miami Miller School of Medicine — and it’s a disaster by comparison. Miller loves to market itself as some beacon of academic and medical excellence, but anyone who’s been on the inside knows it’s just a polished shell over a rotting core. Dysfunction isn’t the exception, it’s the norm. Nepotism and political games run rampant, while real talent gets ignored or pushed out. It’s not about innovation or skill — it’s about who you know and how well you can kiss up.

I’ve seen firsthand how good people get sidelined, how petty politics suffocates progress, and how the same toxic cycle just keeps repeating itself. The sad part? The public gets sold a fantasy — shiny headlines, big-dollar donations, and empty slogans — while behind the scenes, the environment is burning talented people out and driving them away.

Miami deserves institutions that reflect the energy and promise of this city — not bureaucratic sinkholes like Miller that reward mediocrity and punish ambition. Until serious accountability shows up at UMiami Miller, it’ll stay exactly what it is: an embarrassment hiding behind press releases.

In the meantime, I’ll stick with places like Brickell City Centre — where professionalism isn’t performative and things...

Every time I visit Brickell City Centre, I’m reminded that excellence, professionalism, and vision are absolutely possible in this city. From the architecture to the atmosphere to the staff working in the shops and restaurants — it’s elevated, modern, and efficient. People take pride in their work here. You feel respected. Things flow. It’s clean. It’s well-run. It just works.

Now compare that to my experience with the University of Miami Miller School of Medicine — and it’s night and day. Miller, on the surface, might claim to be a top-tier academic institution. But behind the scenes? It's a mess of internal politics, favoritism, and performative professionalism. If you’re not part of the “in-crowd,” you’re invisible. Effort, skill, and innovation get buried under layers of ego and bias. People who genuinely want to make a difference are often pushed aside in favor of those who know how to “play the game.”

I’ve worked with or observed enough departments at Miller to say this isn’t just one person — it’s cultural. Toxic work environments don’t build themselves; they are enabled, layer by layer. And while the public sees the surface — glossy press releases and big donor names — those on the inside are watching talent walk away, burned out and demoralized.

Miami deserves better. Institutions like UMiami Miller need real, external attention and accountability. The future of science, healthcare, and education in our city can’t afford to be held hostage by dysfunction and favoritism.

Until then, I’ll keep spending my time and energy in places like Brickell City Centre — where excellence is visible, and professionalism isn’t...

Earlier today, I took my three kids to Brickell City Center for ice cream, a tradition that started years ago when we lived in Brickell. Back then, we would visit every year, enjoy some ice cream, and take a picture with the Christmas tree. Even now, living in South Miami, we've kept this tradition alive. But this year will be the last.

After taking six photos of my kids smiling by the tree near Santa's area, a security guard approached me. She insisted I delete the pictures from my "professional" camera—a simple old mirrorless model, far from professional-grade equipment. Despite my pleas and questions, she made me go through my photos and delete each one while my kids watched, scared and confused. I even begged to keep just one, but she refused, telling me to use my phone instead. My phone is outdated and takes poor photos, which is why I used my camera in the first place. The joy of our outing—the first day of their school break—was completely ruined.

There were no signs prohibiting cameras, and the guard couldn't define what a "professional" camera even meant. She claimed her supervisor had been watching me on the security cameras and sent her to stop me before I left, not to issue a warning, but to demand the photos be deleted. I was treated like a criminal in front of my children for simply capturing a cherished moment. For years, I had taken pictures here with the same camera without any issue. But after this humiliating experience, I won't be returning. What once was a beloved tradition has...