Born in the vibrant summer of 1971, my life began with a splash of the extraordinary! Picture this: it’s 1981 in sunny Spain, and I’m a spirited child suddenly thrown into the world of special needs education. The twist? An unnoticed accident left me with significant hearing loss.
Back then, special education in Spain was still finding its footing. My school, recognizing my unique needs, decided to transfer me to a new school. Fast forward a few weeks, and there I was, dressed to the nines for what I thought was a fancy party, only to find myself at an orientation for my new school. The scene was straight out of a surrealist painting—kids with all sorts of special needs spread across three large classrooms. Some were in wheelchairs, others cozied up on the floor with blankets. At ten years old, I felt like an alien on a field trip to another planet!
I clammed up during the tour, not saying a word. But when it was over, I unleashed a torrent of tears. My mom hugged me so tightly it felt like our hearts were having a boxing match. During her struggle to calm me, she noticed something odd: I was speaking much louder than usual. Moms, with their superpowers of intuition, sensed something was amiss. This led to our whirlwind adventure of doctor visits, where I practically memorized the intake forms. The diagnosis? Near-total deafness in my right ear and substantial hearing loss in my left—a bittersweet revelation...
With a diagnosis in hand, I embarked on a journey of speech therapy. Returning to my old school was a relief, but the road ahead was bumpy. At ten, I towered at 5.5 feet with size 10 men’s shoes and was as thin as a wire! It took time, patience, and a lot of understanding for my family and me to navigate my hearing, speech, and physical quirks.
One thing I’ve learned is that health planning requires a whole support network, not just the individual. Often, caregivers neglect their own needs. My work now focuses on enhancing the quality of life for both individuals and their support networks, using insights from years of experience. Disabilities don’t define people; they’re just another part of what makes them lovable.
Fast forward to 2016, when I moved from sunny Spain to the bustling streets of New York City with my fantastic 13-year-old twins, Marc and Daniela. The kicker? I arrived with zero English skills, having spent my youth learning French and Italian. There I was, trying to navigate a new life with my kids, feeling completely lost in translation. And let’s just say, my emotions were as unpredictable as my English. Picture this: one minute, I was feeling hot as a summer day in New York City, and the next, I was frizzing out like a mad scientist who’d just discovered a new element. Add in the occasional crying spell, and you’ve got a real rollercoaster! Turns out, I was experiencing pre-menopause symptoms, which, according to scientific sources, can include everything from hot flashes to mood swings, all thanks to fluctuating hormone levels. It’s a bit like riding a hormonal wave while trying to balance a new life in NYC—definitely not a smooth ride, but certainly memorable! My grandmother’s voice still echoes in my mind—“Sweetheart, complaining won’t help... Get your act together!” It’s her wisdom that pushes me forward. When I think of her, I remember the distinct scent of her Hermès d'Orange Vert perfume, the comforting smell of fresh lavender, and the rich aroma of freshly brewed espresso. Each scent brings back memories of her presence, from her perfume to the lavender in her closets and the rich aroma of Italian espresso that filled her home. All these thoughts continue to inspire me every day to face challenges with determination. Fueled by this inspiration, I dove into English classes with the same drive. If I can master it, trust me, anyone can!
During my second year in New York, while still finding my footing, I was fortunate to have Bernard in my life—my “Grandpa-Papi.” He’s like a wise, caring grandpa to my family and a cherished friend to me. Our conversations often included his humor-filled wisdom. One day, I asked, “Grandpa-Papi, when will I speak English well enough that you won’t need to say, ‘I beg your pardon?’” With his characteristic humor, he replied, “Well, do you dream in English or Spanish?” I joked, “If dreaming in Spanish were an Olympic sport, I'd be a gold medalist!”
With a knowing smile, he said, “It’s not you—just remember, my hearing aid isn’t always spot-on. You speak English much better than when we first met... One day, you’ll dream in English, and that will be proof of your progress. But promise me you’ll never lose your charming Spanish accent.”
This guy... his advice and humor continue to remind me to savor the journey and keep smiling!
As I close this chapter, I want to share a piece of my heart—a message from my mom that has guided me through it all...
Sweet pea, you’ve always been as stubborn as a mule and a bit of a pain sometimes—but that’s what happens when you don’t give up! You’ve already heard the ‘no,’ so keep pushing and you’ll collect all the ‘yeses’ you want. I always knew you were something special. From the curious child who faced every challenge head-on to the remarkable person you’ve become, your journey is truly inspiring.
Since my last visit to Spain, where I had the chance to hear this advice directly from her before she passed, I’ve held these words close to my heart. Although she’s no longer with us, her love and wisdom continue to guide me.
She said... “I’m so proud of how you’ve navigated the leap from sunny Spain to the bustling streets of New York, laughing and learning along the way. Your strength and spirit shine brightly, and I can’t wait to see where your story goes next.”

Remember, even if you think you’ve reached the end of a chapter, there’s always another page to turn—and always carry with you the warmth and love that’s been a guiding presence in your life.

Thanks for reading and have an inspired day ahead!
Marcelle Pachter