By Anonymous Pilot
My grandfather was an instructor pilot for the Army Air Corps, then owned a fleet of Cessna 310s which he used for his farm business later in life. My dad grew up flying the 310 fleet, had a couple hundred multi hours before he turned sixteen, and took two hours of single engine instruction before he could take his PPL exam and check ride; dad got his drivers license and PPL on his sixteenth birthday.
I grew up on flying stories from dad and grandpa, with the final line of every story being “You should be a pilot when you grow up.” Unfortunately, life changes for both dad and grandpa resulted in me not getting into a GA airplane until I was 18 years old.
Fun fact, that flight was specifically intended to make sure I didn’t get nauseous, since I had already applied for and been accepted to a part 141 school at a university, on scholarship, no less! So, no pressure?!
I am supremely grateful to the flight instructors who demonstrated remarkable patience with me for the duration of my education. Not only was I not a “natural” at flying, I had fear of failure (failing to answer a question wrong, failing to do a checklist wrong [there’s a checklist for a reason, but try telling me that in my first year], or heaven forbid failing a check ride).
On bad weather days, most students tried to do as little ground instruction as possible; I used every minute of my 2- hour allotted slots with my flight instructor, going over ground knowledge until I could repeat it backwards and forwards. On the other hand, I couldn’t wait to get back to the ground after a flight. The sooner we were on the ground, the sooner I could stop worrying about screwing something up.
My university days flew by in a haze of stressing myself out trying to be perfect at flying (flash cards, chair flying and practicing procedures for hours), making extra effort to be an active member of my school community (Aviation Ambassadors and Alpha Eta Rho, anyone?), and maintaining some semblance of a “normal” college life.
All of these were intended to make sure I would be ready for the real world of being a career pilot. The steps were clear, get my ratings, get hired by the university as a CFI (do your time, part 1), spend two seasons in Alaska bush flying to really earn your stripes (do your time, part 1.5) eventually get hired by a regional (do your time, part 2), then step up to the majors.
While I was doing the aforementioned university life, it did not escape my notice that my pilot friends looked forward to flying and enjoyed the flights more than the ground school! As I approached my multi check ride, it became clear to me
that I did not love flying enough to stick it out through long seasons of flight instructing, bush piloting (I was 100% kidding myself to think I would do that), and hopefully, someday, maybe, getting picked up by an airline.
Ultimately, I realized that in order to climb that ladder, you needed to be passionate about what you were doing.
When I finally admitted to myself that I was not going to be a professional pilot, I was enormously relieved, like I could take a deep breath for the first time in years. Was flight school absolutely the most fun, and most challenge, I’ve ever had in my life? Yes!
Did I feel like I was I in over my head every flight, every ground school, every check ride? Also yes!
I do not regret acknowledging that it was not the right fit for me, then following a different path. Another fun fact: I work in the aviation sector now, although it took 10 years to get back to it, and I am definitely not here as a pilot!
I do not think my story is exactly an example of the issues you are trying to address in the current aviation culture, but I do know that university-me would have been an avid reader of the stories you share, I would have appreciated knowing that not everyone was having an easy time getting where they wanted to go and that I was not the only person struggling. It is an enormous revelation, to know that you are not alone in the struggle.
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