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Continuing Ed

Getting it right

Matching teaching and learning styles

If teaching is the noblest of professions, then flight instructing must be the noblest of professions within aviation. And if teachers in general are underpaid for the guidance, knowledge, and inspiration that they provide their students, then flight instructors are woefully underpaid. But that's another story. Right now let's talk about how flight instructors can get it wrong. That's right, wrong.

The beef isn't with what instructors teach, which is pretty much mandated by the FAA. The problem is with how some instructors choose to teach it. See if this scenario sounds familiar:

The flight instructor had a classic pilot personality: confident, aggressive, impatient, demanding. The multiengine student was more passive-aggressive. A psychologist might peg the instructor as a strong Type A, and the student as somewhere between a Type A and a Type B. It was not the best alphabetical match-up for teaching and learning.

Problems began to surface almost immediately. The student tried to follow the instructor's complex instructions on how to start the engines: electric fuel pump on, crack the throttle, mixture to full rich, count to six (or was it 10?), hit the starter switch, when the engine fires release the switch and push the mixture level to full rich, adjust throttle to hold 1,000 rpm, fuel pump off. Understandably, the student got flummoxed up somewhere between the counting and turning off the fuel pump. The instructor jumped in with rapid-fire corrections, which further confused the student--which in turn made the instructor even more impatient. The second engine start didn't go much better.

Things didn't go well on the flight, either. The instructor verbally noted the student's every mistake and issued detailed instructions on how to fly correctly. The instructor wasn't cutting him much slack, and the student quickly became tense and tentative in his flying.

As the flight proceeded, the pace of the instructor's verbal corrections accelerated. By the time they entered the pattern at the destination, the instructor was dictating every action needed to fly the airplane. "OK, reduce power on downwind. Flaps to approach. Put the landing gear down now. Start your base leg. Reduce power. You're left of centerline." And so on all the way to braking to a stop on the ramp and pulling the mixture back to idle cutoff.

It was a stressful experience for both student and instructor. The instructor could not let one mistake pass without pointing it out and dictating to the increasingly frustrated student how to do right whatever it was he was doing wrong. The student was relegated to little more than a human autopilot, controlled by voice commands from the right seat. At the end of the day the student learned little, if anything, about the airplane and how to fly it properly--much less, well. For his part, the instructor probably came away with a less-than-charitable opinion of the student's ability.

Who is responsible for fixing that problem--an instructor and a student who mix as poorly as oil and water? The answer is as clear as their respective roles. The instructor is the trained professional, schooled in both the subject matter and instructional methods. A flight instructor is supposed to have some knowledge and insight not just on what to teach, but also how to teach it. The student, on the other hand, is the customer, and although customers aren't always right, they always pick up the check.

That psychologist mentioned earlier might say that flight instructor/student relationships are predisposed to discord because the stereotypical pilot is more aggressive than passive, more Type A than Type B. Putting two of the same types together in one small cockpit and hoping for some productive education to happen is a tall order.

The good news is that the personality factor can be less of a factor in primary instruction, especially in the early stages, because the instructor/student roles and relationship are very clearly defined. The instructor is the recognized authority figure in the relationship, the acknowledged expert, the spigot to the student's sponge.

Personality is more in play in advanced instruction, and especially so in an isolated instructional event such as a flight review or airplane checkout. In those situations the student comes in already possessing some knowledge, experience, perspective, and some expectations. It's not elementary school any more.

So, how to manage the instructor/student relationship if that relationship is less than textbook ideal? Changing instructors is one tactic, but it should be the last option to turn to (see "Bad Instructor or Bad Match?" April 2008 AOPA Flight Training). A first step toward solving a personalities problem is to analyze how the instructor teaches and how the student learns, and adjust the former to suit the latter.

At one end of the scale is the student who responds best to an intensive approach to instruction. Generally, that approach begins with detailed instructions on how to execute a procedure or technique, followed by demonstrations of that technique or procedure by the instructor, and culminates in a detailed critique of the student's performance. At the opposite end is the more self-reliant student who is most comfortable and productive with a patient observer approach to instruction: tell me what to do, and let me do it. Give me a chance to make a mistake, recognize that I've made a mistake, and correct it before jumping in and taking over. The student who starred in the scenario at the beginning--it was an actual instructional flight, by the way--was just such a person.

He has been flying for many years. He has a multiengine rating. He does a good job flying a twin, but he doesn't fly very often, which is why he asked the instructor for a brush-up session. Too bad the brush-up turned out to be more of a brush-off.

It probably would not have done much good for the student to turn to the instructor during the flight and discuss teaching methods. The cockpit makes for a poor classroom, and an even worse conference room. The first leg of the instructional flight was to an airport with an on-field restaurant. The plan was to have breakfast, then return to home base. A frank conversation over huevos rancheros might have produced the best results in terms of turning a disappointing first leg into a satisfying and productive morning overall.

Mark Twombly is a writer and editor who has been flying since 1968. He is a commercial pilot with instrument and multiengine ratings and co-owner of a Piper Aztec.

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