Flying Life: Youth movement

“I have no idea,” Dad said, “but I can promise you this: No one is ever going to be good enough for my little girl.” Fast forward 20 years and I can happily say that I did marry a man who was good enough. Dad would have loved him.

This year, when my little brother asked me to help pick out a flight school where he lives, I think I understood a little bit of what Dad was feeling that day. How could anyone be good enough for my brother? That flight school and instructor would be holding his life in their hands, responsible not only for his safety but also the future success of his career in aviation. All of a sudden that old model of flight training, the one where newly minted flight instructors teach what they have just learned to the next generation of student pilots, just didn’t seem adequate. New flight instructors barely have any real-world flying experience. On top of that, they often carry with them the naïve recklessness of youth. The very best I could hope for my brother, I thought, was to find a grizzled old flight instructor, who had maybe lost an engine or two, or been shot down over enemy territory—someone who could make my brother into the best possible pilot version of himself.

However, in today’s aviation climate, it is rare to find a flight instructor with even two years of experience. As soon as CFIs meet their minimum time requirements, somewhere between 1,000 to 1,500 hours, they are moving on to better-paying airline or corporate jobs. So, when my brother told me he would be working with a young instructor about his age, it was with extreme self-control that I kept my mouth shut. And when he called me after his first few flight lessons to report on all he’d learned, I did my very best not to critique his flight instructor’s approach or ask if they’d performed clearing turns or done a 30-minute debrief, or done any of the other things I have come to believe make up a good flight lesson.

It was on one of these long phone calls that I was surprised to realize the young instructor, the one I was so determined not to trust, did something for my brother that I could not. He imparted a love and passion for aviation that can only come from one for whom the shiny newness has not yet lost its luster. If I were the teacher, I would have been busy making sure my brother understood risk management, regulations, and emergency procedures. I would have sucked all the fun out of the process in the interest of safety.

Don’t get me wrong. I have no doubt those things will be covered, but perhaps they don’t have to be the initial, primary focus? We’ve all heard the hangar talk: no stick and rudder skills, children of the magenta line. I’m not the only one who is wary of the new guy. There is often a critical “kids these days” mentality when we consider the relative inexperience of today’s generation of instructors. However, because of my brother’s positive results—and because of what I see in checkride applicants nearly every day—let me take a second and defend that brand-new flight instructor. He has far more to offer than I originally gave him credit for.

Besides the fact that new CFIs are generally more energetic and positive about their job, they also know their stuff. Because they are so fresh from the flight training environment, the many details of aviation knowledge are still in the forefront of their minds. How many seasoned instructors can still spout off the lift equation or remember all the finer points of stability and controllability? Also, new CFIs are up to date on modern technology and understand the finer workings of the latest GPS. They can recommend the newest study aids and online resources to make training simpler for their students. Another factor to consider is that new CFIs still remember what it was like to be a student, so they can relate to the various difficulties that pop up during the training process.

Here’s what I’ve come to realize: That young flight instructor is not responsible for teaching his students every single thing they need to know about aviation. What we know as pilots will come from our experiences in the airplane, what we study, and the vast variety of other pilots we meet along the way. So, to my little brother’s instructor, please allow me to apologize for my initial trepidation. I can only say thank you for the incredible work you have done so far. The best teachers do not necessarily impart the greatest amount of knowledge to their students. They offer something much more valuable—a love for the subject they teach.

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