A bird cannot fly with one wing only. Human space flight cannot

Hear now the voice of Valentina Tereshkova, the first woman to ride the chariot of fire beyond the earth, who declared: “A bird cannot fly with one wing only. Human space flight cannot develop any further without the active participation of women.” These words are not merely about rockets and stars, but about the balance of creation itself. They are a reminder that no journey—whether to the heavens or through the struggles of life—can be completed with only half of humanity’s strength.

The bird is the perfect symbol of this truth. With one wing, it may flutter, it may struggle, but it will never soar. It is only when both wings beat in harmony that the bird ascends into the skies. So it is with mankind: if men alone carry the weight of discovery, invention, and leadership, then humanity is but a crippled creature, grounded in its own arrogance. Only when women rise alongside men, each offering their unique vision, endurance, and wisdom, will the human race soar into its full destiny.

The origin of these words rests in the very life of Tereshkova herself. She was not born of privilege or rank, but of humble soil—her father a tractor driver, her mother a textile worker. Yet she carried within her the fire of the cosmos. In 1963, she became the first woman to fly into space, piloting Vostok 6. Alone in the great silence of the heavens, she circled the earth forty-eight times, proving to a watching world that the sky did not belong to men alone. From that moment, she was not only a pioneer of space, but also a herald of a new truth: humanity must ascend together, or not at all.

History is filled with echoes of this same lesson. Recall the tale of the Soviet women snipers during the Second World War. In the darkest hours of invasion, they stood shoulder to shoulder with men, their precision and courage helping to turn the tide of battle. Or consider Rosalind Franklin, whose work with X-ray crystallography revealed the very structure of DNA—the ladder of life itself. Without her insight, the double helix might have remained hidden for years, and the world’s understanding of biology delayed. Again and again, the truth is revealed: one wing cannot lift us; both wings are needed for flight.

Yet Tereshkova’s wisdom does not rest only in the past. It is a call to the future. As humanity dreams of new worlds—of Mars, of distant stars—can we hope to reach them if we silence the voices of half our people? If we deny the hands that could build, the minds that could innovate, the hearts that could steady us when storms come? The journey to the stars is not only a technical mission, but a spiritual one: it demands that we become whole, united, and complete.

Therefore, let us take this lesson to heart. Do not confine women to the margins, calling upon them only when necessity presses. Instead, open the gates wide, that their gifts may shape the future alongside men. In your own life, whether in family, in work, or in dreams yet unborn, ask yourself: am I walking with one wing or with two? Do I honor all voices, or only the half that resembles myself? For to live with one wing is to remain earthbound; to live with two is to rise.

The practical path is clear: wherever decisions are made, wherever futures are forged, insist upon the full participation of both men and women. Encourage daughters as much as sons to dream beyond the horizon. Support leaders who see with both eyes, not just one. And in your own heart, tear down the walls of prejudice, that all may stand together as co-builders of destiny.

Let this teaching take root: the bird is a symbol not only of flight, but of freedom. Humanity, too, was made to fly—not with one wing, but with two. Tereshkova’s words shine as a guiding star: only together, men and women, can we rise beyond the limits of earth and into the boundless expanse of possibility.