From the Aisles to the Flight Deck

Where My Ladies In The Flight Deck At? 

I never dreamed of becoming a pilot. Then I grew up, and I still didn't want to do it. It sounded like something old white men did, which is statistically fairly accurate. This Forbes Article from April 2018 cites the International Society of Female Airline Pilots and reports that there are 7,409 female pilots worldwide, or about 5% total. 

When I see a female pilot on a trip, my heart bursts with joy. It's very close to time for women to reclaim their rightful title to of the sky goddess throne. "Yas Queen Yaaas," I whisper under my breath, wondering if it would embarrass her to call her out on her femaleness. I might possibly be offended if someone did that to me, I think, and then bite my tongue reluctantly when she introduces herself to the crew. I smile and treat her like a normal person, as though she's a celebrity that I am working hard to pretend I don't know who she is. I'm so happy she exists, but I wasn't ready to join her because of the face that I hardly ever see her. 

I am reminded every flight of every day that the discrepancies between male and female pilots are garishly ridiculous. The compulsion is there to push my way through those doors and fly the plane my own damn self.

So why haven't I? 

The Reasons We Don't Transition

There's nothing stopping me. When I speak with pilots, they say the same thing: "Do it! We need you! Why haven't you started already?"

Most that I speak with are gracious and explain that since a large cohort of older pilots are being forced into retirement, all the airlines across the country are going to need qualified candidates immediately. The jobs are going to be positively bountiful and they simply can't hire enough people during the next five or ten years. Especially if you are a woman, or a minority. 

Transitioning over to the flight deck is like crossing over into the dark side. The main reluctancies for making the big step over to the dark side are centered around this culture of pilots as a good old boy's club, a culture of arrogance and privilege and military discipline. You might expect flight attendants to stop short of taking flying lessons because of the high cost of training, the time necessary to build up flight time hours, or a general fear of being in control of an entire aircraft with several hundred people trapped inside. No, the main reason I keep hearing is this: 

"I just don't want to be stuck in the flight deck with pilots. It sounds so boring and they are so weird and annoying. And gross, and inappropriate, and sometimes homophobic, like badly dressed robots. And I'm a pretty girl, ( or a cute boy ) with a fun sense of humor, and I just wouldn't fit in with them. Nor would I care to." 

A common picture of a pilot is such: ex military, named Mike or Steve or Bob, with a terrific dad joke for you to chew on. He doesn't understand why gay guys have to be "so gay all the time" and has a wife but there's a high probability he'll hide his wedding ring on a layover to flirt with the crew. He might offer to pay for drinks but it's less and less of an expectation, and even though he can afford to drink Starbucks for the rest of his life, he always wants coffee from the galley of the plane. He has never seen that show you love, and might tell you that if he was 30 years younger he would gladly marry you. You're pretty sure he's kidding.... isn't he? 

There's a certain obliviousness that pilots have when it comes to our jobs; they often don't understand how hard we work to maintain a conflict free flight, and they certainly wouldn't be able to trade places with us, gasping at our tiny paychecks and barking at passengers who were disrespectful to them. 

"I'd get fired in a week," one pilot told me chuckling to himself, "I don't know how you guys do it. People are the worst." 

"Yeah, I'm aware." 

The Future is Female, Betch! 

I am not the type of person to avoid doing something just because it isn't normal. I am the type of person, however, who gets intimidated easily. The flight deck is a confusing display of strange gadgets and gizmos and numbers, dials, buttons, and switches. The airplane is an enormous monster that carries a few hundred passengers through the sky at 550 miles per hour, at a height of around 35,000 feet. Looking at it gives me vertigo, and putting myself into the control of this machine seems very against my nature. I'm a people person, I like hanging out with my friends at work, and the pilots are definitely not my demographic or peer group. I like the idea of making someone's day by giving them an upgrade or consoling someone on their way to a funeral. I want to be the reason they love flying with us, I want to have the comradarie I get with my flight attendant crews. 

But that way of thinking is simple and gets us absolutely nowhere, does it?

After casually rolling the idea to take flying lessons over in my mind like a snow globe, the thoughts, worries, and reservations eventually settled down and I was able to think clearly. The reasons for me to consciously decide to stay where I am and not move forward were terrible reasons. In the next five years, there is going to be an influx of flight attendants who took the plunge and moved their way up. I'd rather be the force of good that attempts to make things change for future generations than to just grumble about my situation and accept the status quo. 

And then, there's my five year old niece, who is my best friend and my favorite person in the whole world. What world do I want her to grow up in, a world where women are hesitating to follow their dreams, or a world where they expect to achieve whatever they want? 

Come Fly With Us!

The first step is the discovery flight. I went up in the air in a Cessna plane, documented in detail here, in "NYC at 2,000 feet" The experience was breathtaking but I didn't get a proper chance to test out my flying skills until several months later when I took a proper lesson. 

Luckily, I have a group of flight attendants at my airline who are serious about getting their pilot licenses. We maintain a very active facebook group with information and support during the entire process from start to finish. This has been an invaluable resource for me and a great networking tool. I found a fantastic instructor through this group, who has taught my good friend and flight attendant. We went up last week and flew over New Jersey, nothing but 2,700 feet between the grass and my feet! 

The view is better up here. 

What an experience! 

The first lesson went a little like this: first, I realized how many things could possibly go wrong on a flight if you do the walk around checks incorrectly and miss something. "See that tiny hole? If something clogs it you could not know how fast you're going, and crash." "See that wire? If it's not tight enough you could lose your bearings and crash." "See this propeller? Any chip or knick and it could just stop working and you could crash." "See this door? If it's not closed properly you could crash." 

Oh Lord Jesus help me, I thought to myself as we did the hundred tiny things on the checklist to make sure that we indeed would avoid a crash. I know he was just being overly cautious for me to emphasize the many, many things that need attention and for very good reasons, and appreciated the thoroughness. Flying is very fun and usually nothing bad will ever happen, but there's always that one thing you forgot to check...  

We started the engine, and it was actually happening. On the runway, speeding down, and taking off, and then we floated along the air so naturally; trees became tiny and there was nothing but this peaceful view of New Jersey:

The very first thing that I did when we ascended into the clouds was squeal involuntarily at unpredictable moments. It was a magnificent and terrifying experience to have the controls handed off to me; the brakes were mine, the yoke was mine, the throttle was mine; the plane was being 100% controlled by yours truly. I was a coxswain back in my college days so maybe this helped a bit to figure out the fine art of minor adjustments; we practiced left and right turns, 360 turns, ascending and descending while maintaining the appropriate speed, and flying straight while maintaining level altitude. So, flying the plane is like adjusting five different aspects at once, and at times when turning I'd notice the altitude decreasing and would have to adjust something else to balance everything out. 

But hey, I did it! And I was apparently a great student with a fine potential to be a pilot, so I decided that this was going to be the decision I carry through with. At the end of the day, its not a bad decision to learn how to fly; acquiring a new skill is my favorite thing and no matter what you decide to do with that skill, learning it should be interesting enough for it to be a worthy endeavor. 

We flew for a total of about an hour and a half, and although I didn't get a proper chance to speak to the tower on the radio, I did all the other things necessary for a first lesson experience and it definitely got under my skin. I can't wait to fly again, to feel the control of the aircraft, to get into ground school and learn everything there is to know about flying, and maybe be able to participate in my friends' nerd talks about piloting. 

It's a smart move, and it's something that I know I won't regret later down the road-- but if I avoid learning how to fly just based on reasons like "I don't want to work with pilots", then that's a huge disservice to my generation and the following generations after me. I want to my niece to brag about her aunt the pilot rather than her aunt the flight attendant. This is not in any way to say I don't respect the career of flight attendants; I love my job so much and it's why I've been waiting so long to start this process. But the flight deck, I must be honest, is treated better by the airline in every way. They have so much freedom and protection, not to mention a rapid pay increase, and more respect. And she needs to know that women are in leadership positions as a default, not as an exception to the rule. 

Flying was too much fun; I didn't know how much I'd enjoy it until I did it. Sometimes jumping in blindly is the best way to find out whether or not you love something new! Try it, who knows what you'll discover about your hidden talents. 

Good luck jumping into new career aspirations and happy flying!