Jess Atkins grew up in Isle of Wight County in Virginia in the 1940s. Like lots of kids, when he saw an aircraft flying overhead, he looked up. He didn’t know what model airplanes were overhead — they turned out to be B-17s — but he was inspired.
Seeing those planes flying became a dream for Jess. That’s a familiar story to anyone who gazes skyward.
But from Jess’s original email to me, one sentence stood out. “I do have an interesting story of how one’s dream to fly can be crushed for years by a single comment from one instructor.”
After high school, Jess enrolled in Virginia Tech’s ROTC program in 1958.
“I thought I’d found my path to aviation,” Jess told me during a phone conversation we recently had.
Toward the end of Jess’s second year in college, he was given a test that asked him to identify parts of an airplane and answer if a plane is climbing, descending, and/or banking based on illustrations of the instrument panel.
“Keep in mind, when I took that test I’d never seen the inside or outside of an airplane up close,” noted Jess. “And when the instructor handed out the results, he kept my test and asked to speak with me.”
After class Jess walked up to the instructor and engaged in the following very short conversation.
“Mr. Atkins, I understand you want to be a pilot,” to which Jess replied, “Yes Sir.” The instructor then said, “Mr. Atkins, based on the results of this test you should not go near an airplane, even as a mechanic.”
As you might imagine, Jess was crushed. The door to the path he thought he’d found had just been slammed shut.
Jess dropped from ROTC and switched majors. He finished Virginia Tech with a degree in mathematics. You know, one of those areas of education for the more simple-minded among us. (That’s sarcasm by the way).
Fast forward to 1972 — with his long-ago instructor’s words ringing in his head — he went to the local airport and asked how much it would cost to learn to fly. “About $1,000 in those days.” So he signed up.
Jess soloed in about eight hours. He went on to earn his private certificate and has co-owned multiple aircraft over the years.
He stopped flying in 2004 for other reasons but hopes to re-start one day. He keeps up with the industry via a number of aviation magazines.
“I can still hear those words in my head all these years later,” said Jess. “And they still bother me. There is a lesson in this for all of us and that is words really matter and we should strive every day to make sure we do not crush one’s dreams.”
They should bother Jess. Those words should bother all of us. Proof positive that words matter. Right he is: There is a lesson in this story.
Words matter. Choose them wisely.
While I agree that what the instructor said was certainly discouraging and without basis, I also know people with a pilot certificate who are not “pilots” and should have been seriously dissuaded from getting their certificate. Not everyone was meant to fly. We all have our gifts and even someone who does not have the “gift” can learn to fly and become a safe pilot, some people should not and it is the instructor’s job to weed those people out.
I had a similar experience in college. A “guidance counselor” called me in and suggested that I find a trade of some kind as I was not college material. I’ll keep it short. Years later that same guidance counselor presented himself at an interview session I was hosting recruiting teachers for the high school program of which I was the lead administrator. He, of course, had no idea who I was. I leave it to you to muse whether or not I hired him. Karma etc……..
I had a similar experience in 6th grade, only about music. Any of us who wanted to try out an instrument were told to show up after school, and a high school music teacher would see if we had any potential talent. I’d always wanted to play a trumpet. So he handed me a mouthpiece, and with no instruction whatsoever, told me to make a sound with it. I had no idea what I was supposed to do, and whatever sound I made was awful. “You’ll never be able to play a trumpet or any other wind instrument. Next.”
That was 64 years ago. It had such an impression on me that although I never learned to play a trumpet, and I’m not all that good on the several instruments I can play, I still remember the sense of rejection I felt. So when I taught college courses in business law and when I was a flight instructor, I never said any such thing to any student. Yeah, I had some students who probably shouldn’t have been there, but if they quit, they made that conclusion without any suggestion from me.
I strongly believe most CFI’s have a screw loose somewhere in their melon. In fact some of the worse landings I have witnessed in any of my airplanes have been done by a CFI, more than once I told the CFI, ” I’ll take over from now on, that landing you just made was so bad I thought you were damaging the landing gear”. I don’t get it, maybe they need more time to reacquaint themselves with flying..
On a similar note, as a high school senior, I was required to see the school guidance counselor. As she opened my file, she verbally noted that I had done well in math and science on the ACT and SAT. Turning the page, she noted that I was from the “wrong side of the tracks”. She advised that there were numerous trade schools in the area and she was sure I would do well. “Thank you for coming by.”. Signed by a person from the wrong side of the tracks with a, BS, MS, PE.
Words from an “instructor”. Indeed.
Any of us whom had spent more than the ‘normal’ time in college(s), would not be surprised. Yes, a former insider here.
The opinions of others never matter. The one common theme among the successful is that they ONLY listen to themselves, never others. Fine if you get words of encouragement but no one should ever need encouragement to do what one dreams of doing.
Amen, brothers (and sisters).
The person who shouldn’t go anywhere near an airplane was the jerk that told him this. That guy was a double moron – “even as a mechanic” . . . who does he think keeps the airplanes flying? Elves? The tooth fairy?
Actually, he was a triple moron. General aviation is struggling, the very LAST thing we want to do is chase people away because they aren’t “worthy”. What WE need to do is MAKE them “worthy”, encourage them, support them, help them make their dreams into reality. Win, win, people, remember?