The Fastest Woman in the World

Tatyana’s journey to becoming a star athlete had begun more than 4,000 miles away from New York City, in St. Petersburg, Russia. She was born in 1989 with spina bifida, a condition that left her paralyzed from the waist down. Tatyana’s mother couldn’t afford to take care of her. So baby Tatyana was soon sent to live at an orphanage called Baby House #13.

Like a grim orphanage from a storybook, Baby House #13 was a place full of dark hallways, chilly rooms, and wailing babies. For dinner, the kids were given watery soup—with bits of boiled cabbage, if they were lucky.

The orphanage was too poor to afford a wheelchair for Tatyana. So she learned to move using her arms—first pulling forward in a crawl, then swinging upside down to walk on her hands. If her caregivers tried to stop her, Tatyana cried out, “Ya sama!” That’s Russian for “I can do it!”

Tatyana began her life in St. Petersburg, a city in Russia. She was born in 1989 with spina bifida. This condition left her unable to move her legs. Tatyana’s mother couldn’t afford to take care of her. So baby Tatyana was soon sent to live at an orphanage called Baby House #13.

Baby House #13 was full of dark hallways, cold rooms, and crying babies. For dinner, the kids were given watery soup.

The orphanage was too poor to buy a wheelchair for Tatyana. So she learned to walk on her hands. Sometimes her caregivers tried to stop her. But Tatyana would cry out, “Ya sama!” That’s Russian for “I can do it!”

When Tatyana was 5, her life changed forever. An American woman named Deborah McFadden came to visit the orphanage on a business trip. Meeting Tatyana, Deborah felt an instant connection to the little girl with the bright eyes and a giant bow in her hair.

Tatyana felt it too. “That’s my mother,” she announced after Deborah had left. Her caregivers thought she was just daydreaming. But over the following months, Deborah kept returning to see Tatyana. And on one visit, she came with exciting news: She was going to adopt Tatyana and bring her to live at her home near Baltimore, Maryland.

In the U.S., doctors warned Deborah that Tatyana might have only a couple of years to live. Years of poor medical care had left her dangerously weak. But Deborah had a feeling that Tatyana would shatter expectations.

When Tatyana was 5, her life changed forever. An American woman named Deborah McFadden came to visit the orphanage on a business trip. Deborah felt a special connection to Tatyana from the moment they met.

Tatyana felt it too. “That’s my mother,” she told everyone after Deborah had left. Her caregivers thought she was just daydreaming. But Deborah kept coming back to see Tatyana. And one day, she came with exciting news: She was going to adopt Tatyana. They would live at Deborah’s home near Baltimore, Maryland.

In the U.S., doctors warned Deborah that Tatyana might have only a couple of years to live. She had not been to the doctor in a long time. She was very weak. But Deborah had a feeling that Tatyana would shatter expectations.

Tatyana’s new life in America was full of wonders: her first-ever pair of shoes, a shiny new pink wheelchair, ice cream. (She had never eaten anything so cold and asked her mom to heat it up in the microwave.)

To help build up Tatyana’s strength, Deborah signed her up for a sports club for kids living with physical disabilities—conditions that affected how they moved or did activities. Tatyana loved just about every sport she tried: basketball, ice hockey, swimming. But she knew right away that wheelchair racing was different. “It was something that I never felt before: freedom,” she says.

Racing at the sports club, Tatyana didn’t just get healthier. She became one of the fastest kids on the team. Walking on her hands in the orphanage had given her powerful arm muscles, perfect for zooming a wheelchair at top speed.

Tatyana’s new life in America was full of wonders. She got her first pair of shoes. She rode in a shiny new pink wheelchair. She tasted ice cream. (Tatyana had never eaten anything so cold. She asked her mom to heat it up in the microwave.)

Deborah wanted to help build up Tatyana’s strength. So she signed Tatyana up for a sports club for kids living with physical disabilities. A physical disability is a condition that affects how someone moves or does activities.

Tatyana loved just about every sport she tried: basketball, ice hockey, swimming. But she knew right away that wheelchair racing was different. “It was something that I never felt before: freedom,” she says.

Racing at the sports club, Tatyana didn’t just get healthier. She became one of the fastest kids on the team. Walking on her hands in the orphanage had given her strong arm muscles. She could push a wheelchair forward at top speed.

One day when Tatyana was 15, a coach suggested that she try out for the Paralympic Games—an elite sports event for athletes from around the world. The Paralympics are like the Olympics but for athletes with a range of disabilities. They take place right after the Olympics, in the same city.

Tatyana was shocked when she qualified, becoming one of the youngest members of Team USA. In September 2004, she and her family traveled to the Games in Athens, Greece. She was dazzled to be among nearly 4,000 of the world’s most talented athletes. Swimmers living without arms glided through the water. Blind soccer players sent the ball soaring into the goal. Runners who used prosthetic legs zipped toward the finish line.

No one expected Tatyana to do well in her races. She was competing against athletes nearly twice her age. Still, she pushed herself as hard as she could—and won two medals.

One day when Tatyana was 15, a coach said she should try out for the Paralympic Games. This elite sports event brings together athletes from around the world. The Paralympics are like the Olympics but for athletes with disabilities. They take place right after the Olympics, in the same city.

Tatyana was shocked when she made it onto the U.S. Paralympic team. She was one of its youngest members. In September 2004, she and her family traveled to the Games in Athens, Greece. Nearly 4,000 of the world’s best athletes were there. Swimmers living without arms glided through the water. Blind soccer players sent the ball flying into the goal. Runners who used prosthetic legs raced toward the finish line.

No one expected Tatyana to do well in her races. She was competing against athletes nearly twice her age. Still, she pushed herself as hard as she could—and won two medals.

But Tatyana’s biggest challenge was yet to come . . . in high school.

When she started ninth grade that fall, she tried to join the track team. Tatyana knew her results wouldn’t count; her wheelchair gave her a speed advantage. She just wanted to compete with her friends. Yet school leaders refused to let her race. “There are clubs for kids like you,” one of them told her.

Tatyana’s mom had worked for the U.S. government. She had helped write the Americans with Disabilities Act, an important civil rights law that protects people with disabilities from unfair treatment. Deborah knew that excluding Tatyana from the track team wasn’t just wrong—it was illegal.

And so the McFaddens took the school district to court. Tatyana wasn’t fighting only for her own right to race. She thought about her 9-year-old sister, Hannah, who used a prosthetic leg. Tatyana didn’t want Hannah—or any other kid with a disability—to be treated the way she’d been treated.

A few weeks later, the judge’s decision was announced: Tatyana had won! Over the next two years, she and her family worked to help pass a new Maryland law that would make sure all kids with disabilities had the right to participate equally in school sports. It became known as “Tatyana’s Law.” And in 2013, it became a rule across the country.

For Tatyana, it was yet another reminder of the power of “ya sama”—of what she could accomplish when she set her mind to a challenge and didn’t give up.

But Tatyana was about to face her biggest challenge . . . in high school. 

When she started ninth grade that fall, she tried to join the track team. Tatyana knew her results wouldn’t count. Because of her wheelchair, she was faster than runners without disabilities. She just wanted to compete with her friends. Yet school leaders would not let her race. “There are clubs for kids like you,” one of them told her.

Tatyana’s mom had worked for the U.S. government. She had helped write the Americans with Disabilities Act. This important law protects people with disabilities from unfair treatment. Deborah knew that not letting Tatyana join the track team wasn’t just wrong. It was illegal.

And so the McFaddens took the school district to court. Tatyana was fighting for more than her own right to race. She thought about her 9-year-old sister, Hannah. Hannah used a prosthetic leg. Tatyana didn’t want her sister to be treated the way she’d been treated. She didn’t want any kid with a disability to be treated that way.

A few weeks later, the judge’s decision was announced: Tatyana had won! Over the next two years, she and her family worked to help pass a new law in Maryland. The law would make sure all kids with disabilities could take part in school sports. It became known as “Tatyana’s Law.” And in 2013, it became a rule across the country.

For Tatyana, it was a reminder of the power of “ya sama.” She could do anything when she set her mind to a challenge and didn’t give up.

The same power kept Tatyana going on that chilly marathon day in 2014.

With her last ounce of energy, she quickly pushed herself back into her wheelchair. “Ya sama, ya sama,” she chanted, driving the wheels faster and faster. Then, at last, she was bursting through the finish line ribbon. She had done it: the Grand Slam!

Today, Tatyana has 17 Paralympic medals. She’s broken five world records. She’s appeared in Nike ads. Many have called her the fastest woman in the world. (Though her teammates simply call her “The Beast.”)

But her proudest achievement has been opening the door for other athletes with disabilities. Since Tatyana’s Law was passed, she has continued to push for equal treatment. And her efforts are paying off: At the 2021 Games in Tokyo planned for this summer, Paralympic athletes will receive the same prize money as Olympic athletes for the first time.

Tatyana says that her “ya sama” attitude has been key to her success, both as an athlete and an activist. She often thinks of a saying she once heard: Failure is not falling down, but refusing to get up. “Much of my life I have fallen down,” she writes in her memoir. “But rarely, if ever, have I refused to get up and keep going.”

The same power kept Tatyana going on that marathon day in 2014.

She quickly got back into her wheelchair. “Ya sama, ya sama,” she said to herself. She pushed the wheels faster and faster. Then she was bursting through the finish line ribbon. She had done it: the Grand Slam!

Today, Tatyana has 17 Paralympic medals. She’s broken five world records. She’s appeared in Nike ads. Many have called her the fastest woman in the world.

But she is most proud of helping other athletes with disabilities. Since Tatyana’s Law was passed, she has kept pushing for equal rights. And her hard work is paying off. At the next Paralympic Games, athletes will get the same prize money as Olympic athletes for the first time.

Tatyana says that her “ya sama” attitude has helped her succeed, both as an athlete and an activist. She often thinks of a saying she once heard: Failure is not falling down, but refusing to get up. “Much of my life I have fallen down,” she writes in her book. “But rarely, if ever, have I refused to get up and keep going.”

Eight-year-old Jennifer Keelan pushed her wheelchair toward the U.S. Capitol in Washington, D.C. More than 80 stone steps led up to the building where laws are made. Slowly, Jennifer slid out of her chair and began to pull herself up the stairs. Around her, dozens of other people left behind wheelchairs, crutches, and canes to make the steep climb.

It was March 12, 1990. Jennifer and the others were there to demand that lawmakers pass the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA), a law protecting them from discrimination. By crawling up the steps, they wanted to show that America was not accessible to people with disabilities. And that needed to change—NOW.

Jennifer Keelan, 8, pushed her wheelchair toward the U.S. Capitol. This is the building in Washington, D.C., where laws are made. More than 80 stone steps led up to the door. Slowly, Jennifer slid out of her chair. She began to pull herself up the stairs. Around her, dozens of other people left behind wheelchairs, crutches, and canes. They also started climbing the steep steps.

It was March 12, 1990. Jennifer and the others were there to tell lawmakers to pass the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA). This law would protect them from unfair treatment. By crawling up the steps, they wanted to show that America was not accessible to people with disabilities. And that needed to change—NOW.