The CFI who made a pilot out of an uncertain flyer
I tried to explain the various reasons my previous instructors had left, but she pointed out that three out of four took new jobs-most likely, in her opinion, not to have to fly with me again. I could sense the conversation going nowhere; she clearly didn't understand the complicated world of flight instruction. Then, as I walked away, I began to wonder...not about something being wrong with me, of course, but whether this fifth flight instructor was to be my last, best chance.
After my private pilot checkride several years earlier, I flew a few hours and then quit for a long time. I didn't want to fly. I didn't feel like a competent pilot. I thought I needed more instruction. But I had passed all the tests and done pretty well, and more than one instructor told me that it was all in my head-which, by the way, did nothing to help the situation.
In April 1998, when I walked into the flight school that first night, I didn't know what flaps were and I wasn't even quite sure what a Cessna was, but I loved learning about all these things. I'll never forget that feeling of taking off for the first time in the pilot's seat. It was truly captivating, but far from comfortable. In fact, I was a tad shaky and sick to my stomach before almost every flight. Add to this being crammed in the airplane next to a strange man with no way out (at least no good way out)-and, well, it didn't seem like a whole lot of fun.
So there were some good times, but mostly incredibly stressful times. A few key things got me through until the checkride: the challenge of learning something so new and exciting; the few times I was brave enough to fly solo; and the goal of getting a pilot certificate (and not quitting).
I memorized tons of information, but I didn't understand much of it. I got the feeling from my first few flight instructors that because my husband flew (and understood it) that I'd "be OK." There were a lot of comments about "how much fun we'd have flying together." Apparently they'd never taken a long road trip with us in the car. I must take some blame here. I wasn't brave enough to take charge of my own aviation education; I assumed there was one way of doing it. I was too unsure if I could continue, so, I spent hours and hours studying things on my own and not realizing how easy it would be to get more help.
One of my biggest fears was the feeling of not being taken seriously by a bunch of male flight instructors. It was way beyond my comfort level, and so I didn't insist on anything different, and that wasn't very smart. Of course, on my behalf, I could barely function at this time, let alone have a logical conversation with myself.
When we moved back East, my husband immediately found a flight school. He went up with some new instructors and kept bugging me to go. Eventually I gave in and flew with a couple of different instructors, and discovered something interesting-it was sort of fun. No longer paranoid about making a mistake or preparing for a test, I was just enjoying the flight.
I knew I wasn't doing any serious learning or improving my skills. What I discovered was just as valuable, however: how to have a good time and fly.
Then, those instructors left for other jobs, and we moved to Montana, and I quit flying for another year and a half. I was done. I hadn't learned the skills I needed, and time had certainly taken a toll on the things I'd merely memorized. Most weeks I told myself it would be too hard to start again, and I even imagined that another flight instructor would think, Who in the hell taught her to fly? I wouldn't do it-it was exhausting just to think about it. Other days, though, I would look at the sky and think, Maybe someday.
Once again, my ever-optimistic husband found yet another flight instructor. "You're really going to like him." Yeah, right. But, he signed me up, and I decided to go. By now, however, my standards had risen-if I couldn't be completely comfortable with this guy, have fun, and learn the way I needed to, it was over (again).
The day I showed up for that first meeting, I wondered if I could get used to another strange man and learn again. But this time, I tried to remain positive and more aware of what I needed and wanted. Apparently I'm not a fast learner, but I am stubborn. I was happy to discover that Dick Johnson was patient, relaxed, and comfortable to be around. It took a few more flights before I realized I could learn a lot from him. I relaxed (for me), and after 70-some hours and several years, things were looking up.
Dick seemed to actually enjoy both flying and teaching, and he was good at the teaching part. I had no idea that the instructor sitting next to me affected my nerves so much, and I was a little mad at myself for being so self-conscious all those years flying with men, because it only prevented me from learning. I no longer felt pressured to learn everything as fast as possible and push myself beyond my comfort zone to live up to someone else's expectations (or worse yet, some syllabus). Without these constant pressures, learning and flying became enjoyable. Even though I still feel I'm in the remedial program, that's OK-it's a benefit of getting older.
Another valuable change happened over those several years of flying now and then, and with various instructors-it gave me the time to find out if I truly wanted to fly. Now I study because I'm interested, and I fly because I like it. Had I simply quit flying after the checkride I would never have discovered any of these things. If I had done the opposite and pushed myself to fly alone, because that's what was expected, I would have been too unsure of my skills and would not enjoyed any of it. Either way, I would have lived with regrets. Several flight instructors joked with me about my self-confidence, but luckily there are those who don't dismiss my mental challenges.
It finally dawned on me that my last, best chance was not only my latest flight instructor, but also the realization that I had never fully taken on the responsibility for my own learning and enjoyment. It no longer matters to me that it took me five years to discover all this, and to relax in the cockpit. All that matters is that I keep having fun and learning something new every day (and every flight).
By Ruth Miller
"Learning Experiences" is presented to enhance safety by providing a forum for students and pilots to learn from the experiences of others. It is intended to provoke thought and discussion, acknowledging that actions taken by the authors were not necessarily the best choices under the circumstances. We encourage you to discuss any questions you have about a particular scenario with your flight instructor.
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