The fight for inclusion is generally regarded as the most important and proudest cause for people with disabilities. Thankfully, this fight is usually less challenging today than it was as recently as ten years ago. But sometimes, the struggle is so tough and the climb so steep that one can feel physically battered and emotionally spent. Just ask 17-year-old Tatyana McFadden of Atholton High School Maryland.

McFadden is a Russian orphan born with spina bifida who came to this country when she was six. She knew no English and was malnourished, so she relied on sports to fortify her health and social skills, often joining the outdoor games of able-bodied neighborhood kids. Basically she thought of herself as no different from other kids, except for being paralyzed from the waist down. Before long she discovered another outlet for her growing athletic skills: wheelchair racing. Today she is the proud owner of two medals from the 2004 Paralympics in Athens. Perhaps because of her triumphs, she is immersed in a rigorous battle for a spot on Atholton’s track team.

McFadden initially couldn’t even get a track jersey from the coaches. They finally relented, figuring if they gave it to her, she would eventually just go away. Instead, McFadden traveled to meets uninvited and would do laps alone between events and pushed in a vacant lane next to the runners even though no one kept her time. Last year, she won a lawsuit forcing her local county to create a wheelchair division consisting only of herself. Atholton was awarded points for McFadden’s wins. That wasn’t enough. In March McFadden filed a lawsuit asking Maryland’s athletic association to count her wins in regional and state wheelchair racing competitions toward Atholton’s overall score at the high school state championships. And if McFadden’s first lawsuit was a kitchen fire, the second is a volcano-sized controversy. The entire episode begs the question: Does the fight for inclusion ever go too far?

Maryland contends it has already exceeded its obligations by adding eight non-scoring events to the state meet, intended solely for McFadden. McFadden’s opponents say awarding her team points for her victories in a one-person division unfairly tilts things in Atholton’s favor and violates the integrity of the competition. If McFadden competes in the maximum four events (and wins) rival coaches contend that would give Atholton a jump on winning a state title. Normally, ten points are awarded for a first-place finish, and a team will win a championship with about 70 points. Right now McFadden is only asking for one point, but that would still give Atholdon a unique source of scoring. Part of McFadden’s purpose is to open doors for other athletes with disabilities to compete. But Maryland says only two others want to compete, and only two out of 188 possible schools currently offer wheelchair racing.

The state meet is May 24, and some coaches are saying they’ll pull their teams off the track if a verdict allowing McFadden to race is rendered. Able-bodied runners are beginning to rally against her, she says she often feels depressed because of her battles, and she has been ostracized from her team because she unintentionally committed a pacing violation that cost Atholton the state championship last year. Even McFadden’s mother has asked her if she’s tired of fighting and warned her that people are going to hate her because of this. Tatyana remains resolute, saying she’d rather be hated and be on the team than not be on the team at all.

My feelings on the situation are mixed. I don’t think I would fight as hard as Tatyana is, because part of my philosophy on having a disability is to make the best of what I have and do what I CAN do, and part of that is recognizing that there are things I can’t, such as skydiving or bungee jumping. I am content playing wheelchair sports against other athletes with disabilities, in other words, it’s acceptable to me to simply use the competitive vehicles already in place. But if Tatyana isn’t, additional possibilities for compromise are evident.

I understand the other side’s position that awarding Altholton team points for Tatyana’s events creates an unfair advantage. They’re right. Even if she is only asking for one tenth of the normal point value, those are still points most other schools would not be eligible to earn. So I don’t favor McFadden being allowed to score in a one-person division any more than I supported Casey Martin being allowed to use a golf cart on the PGA Tour. (I know this sounds like blasphemy in the disability rights community, but walking is a critical element of golf.) But the guy didn’t make it on the tour anyway. He turned out not to be good enough. McFadden appears to be. So the solution is simple:

Don’t create a wheelchair division, but let her compete literally against everyone else. She gets to enter the maximum four events if she wants, then runs against the able-bodied athletes. Same rules, same distance, and if she wins, the Atholton team is awarded the full point values toward a championship. Isn’t that what inclusion really means, having the same opportunities as everyone else?

McFadden’s opponents are also claiming safety issues, because she has reached a speed of 20 mph. That’s bunk. The fact is, if she leaves her assigned lane, she’s disqualified. She won’t be colliding with anyone. Now, under my scenario, letting her compete with everyone else would mean she would have to out-run teammates and might ultimately deprive an able-bodied runner of a spot. But so what? If that happens, McFadden will have earned it between the lines.

What would the beaten runner do, sue?

Matthew Zellmer can be reached at mz80@yahoo.com