Friday 31 August 2012

Please Don’t Kick Me Out Of the Club: Finding the Perfect Flying Instructor

“You will not succeed unless you have a good instructor. No person will be more influential and supportive during your training.” Aaron Krieger

The other day I read an excellent blog by Aaron Krieger (http://kriegeraviation1.blogspot.ca) outlining smart tips on how to choose a flight instructor.  In this blog Krieger articulated exactly what I meant to research when I was looking for a new instructor.  I just went about it a little bit differently.

Although I am a devout Aviatrix, it had been over a year since I had taken a lesson.  I know, I know!  I got busy with my business and my kids and my life.  While I was busy being busy, my flying instructor, Dave, got a hot-shot job in the Big City and moved on.  I didn’t know until the day I decided I was ready and I called the Flying Club eager to book the refresher that was going to make everything fall into place.  The Good News, I was told, was that I could absolutely resume my training right away.  The Bad News was that “my guy” was gone.

I’ve written about Dave before.  Flying with Dave was like flying with Cary Grant.  There was something about him, maybe it was his hair.  I suspect it was his poise and confidence in the cockpit (combined with the hair) that reminded me of the legend.  He is a straight arrow – very professional.  He was my first instructor and I held him in incredibly high regard.

When I started my pilot training I was surprised by my level of anxiety.  Dave rode it out in a very understanding, but let’s-get-on-with-it kind of way.  The fear factor threw me.  I always thought I had such a high degree of comfort in an airplane.  I hadn’t realized my level of comfort had been as a passenger who had always had blind faith in the pilot – who was usually my Dad.

With such fond memories of my eight-year-old self bush flying up North in the back seat of my Dad’s Cessna 172, I knew I needed a solid go-to guy I could really trust.  The Head Sky-God at the Club asked me if I wanted to book a flight with an excellent new instructor named Sean.  I said no. 

Then I laid out a couple of My Rules:

  • If I end up speaking to him as if he were my kid, he’s probably not the guy for me.
  • If he answers the phone at the Flying Club and says: “I dunno man, I’ve only been here a week”, chances are he’s not the guy for me (and also he should not be answering the phone.  Ever. Again.)
I may have been trying to make a point about professionalism but instead I just blurted it all over the unsuspecting ear at the other end of the telephone.

The Head Sky-God scheduled an appointment for me with his Second-In-Command.  I thought I was booking a flight with him but had misunderstood.  Instead we interviewed each other.  After listening to my concerns (read My Rules), he laid out a brilliant plan for getting my wings back on but then advised that he had a very tight schedule with commercial training and was selective in the private pilot students he trains.  Finding a new instructor is a little bit like dating.  I started getting that letting-you-down-easy feeling.  My heart turned cold, eyes narrowed and I said: “I’m not looking for the guy with the most experience.  I am looking for the guy who is OLD.”

What I meant to say was something about maturity and life experience.

I am fairly certain I’m no longer his favorite.  Lucky for me the Second-In-Command recommended another instructor who has a great attitude, track record and a mature outlook.

  • If his schedule doesn’t coincide with mine - even though I am the one paying membership fees and for flying lessons (did I say that out loud?) - then he is probably not the guy for me.

Next interview with recommended instructor.  I liked him but after a month and a half of our schedules not working (I admit I cancelled our first flight because both of my children had a yucky virus) I realized he was not The One.  In the meantime I had friends try to fix me up with instructors they thought I would really like but sadly I already knew they weren’t for me.

I finally just said to the dispatcher: “Just book me a flight with anybody who has time that day.  I don’t care who it is.”


  • You get that I’m a chick right?  Pretend you like me.  Women do business in a different way than men.  We form relationships and I wasn't connecting.


At a pre-flight-with-The-New-Guy coffee talk, a friend asked me why I was so nervous.  As I anxiously fingered my flashcards, I wanted to tell him how much I wanted to be prepared for The New Guy.  That I wanted to be able to perform for The New Guy, but instead I answered: “You know, I just want to have some fun.”  And I meant it.

Enter The New Guy.  Sean was open and friendly.  A few minutes into our first meeting he said: “When I was reading your PTR, I noticed…” and all I could think was: “He actually read my PTR.”  He had prepared for me too.

We went over his background and my expectations.  We outlined a plan, made sure our schedules worked, and he helped me with an important exercise I had forgotten how to complete.  Then he said it: “Let’s just go out there and have some fun.”  Bing-bing!

That very sentence might just be in the flight instructor handbook but it was all I needed.  I got my sign and we went flying.

It was so good to be back in the left seat.  Seriously, am I the only person whose heart melts at the smell of the cockpit of an old Cessna?  Some people love chocolate chip cookies, I love the cramp I get in my abdominal muscles as I scrunch myself into the seat of a 152.  No sticky notes on the dash but I won’t lie – my flashcards were in plain sight.  It was just like riding a bike, only flying an airplane.

As we continue to fly together I realize Sean is exactly the kind of instructor I had been looking for.  He has just the right amount of life experience.  He’s relatable and has the ability to teach in a way that speaks to me right now.  If I used to wonder about things, now I just ask and he answers.  He is friendly, professional, laughs at all my jokes, and can correct me with ease.  It’s as if he has the inside skinny.  Flying with Sean is like flying with a “regular guy” who knows way more about flying than I do.  The only gigantic ego in that plane is mine.

I look forward to my student-pilot adventures with Sean.  I’m sure my friends and family are praying for him but I can’t help but think: “Mamma’s got her wings back!  It’s so good to be back on the broom!”
The New Guy: Sean
What a good sport!

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