When I was first looking to get involved in aviation, someone described the aviation community as being like the horse community – everyone knows someone, and they’re tight knit.
I’ve been in clubs before – my mother put me in Job’s Daughters when I was a teen, and that was really good for me – it was a safe place, where people accepted me the way I was. But the sense of community I’ve suddenly felt getting involved in the Springfield Flying Club, and local RAA, flying C-FLUG makes me see that the sense of community I got from Job’s Daughters was manufactured.
I’ve read a lot about tribal societies, and how it’s not natural for people to live in cities where they see people they don’t know every day. It’s overwhelming and unhealthy for us, and there’s theories that living this way could be contributing to many psychological disorders. That the lack of that tribal group community feeling is something we need in order to be healthy. It puts a lot of stress on nuclear families – mother and father are expected to be everything one another needs, plus everything their children need. Clubs like Scouts or Guides or Job’s Daughters are substitutes for that, and they’re generally for certain age groups.
Now that I’ve been involved in C-FLUG, I’m really amazed at the amount of effort that the local community has put into getting that plane in the air, and they’re doing it specifically for women who otherwise would be paying $150 an hour to fly something. Here, we’re paying $20, plus fuel – which is probably another $20-$30 an hour, something like that. That’s a huge thing they’re doing for us. But also, seeing how many people have been involved, without whom, we either just couldn’t do it, or us C-FLUG pilots would be paying more, because they’ve volunteered their time, and donated parts and equipment.
It’s wasn’t a call to the general public that got this happening. It’s that tight knit community of Lyncrest airport, and people who fly into and out of it. They’re a community in a truer sense of the word than I’ve ever seen before in real life. There’s the older generation, with their wealth of experience, and they’re more than happy to share their knowledge and their stories. And then there’s the new generation, the younger ones, still learning, or with licences but building experience.
And the welcome…I mean, my Dad can say that well of course the people at Harv’s are going to be positive and welcoming to me – I’m paying them. Â But that doesn’t apply here. There’s a lot of older men in this community, and you’d think women wouldn’t feel welcomed, but seriously, I have met no one, male or female, who was a pilot, who didn’t think it was awesome that I wanted to fly. Not one who sounded skeptical of my abilities. It’s like this huge chorus of “come, come be one of us, it’s awesome!” And “Oh, you’re interested in (X)? You should talk to so-and-so, he knows stuff about that/has one of those he might let you fly.”
Community built around a thing. And there’s official groups – there’s a Women in Aviation Chapter, a chapter of the Ninety-Nines, local chapter of the RAA, the Springfield Flying Club, sure. But I don’t get a sense that there are any real lines drawn between any of those groups. I’m currently now a member of all of them, for that matter.
It’s kind of cool to be in a room full of people and not be the one crazy person who thinks flying is the most awesome thing in the world. And to be around people with whom I can talk about things like carb heat and carb ice, an the never ending crosswind argument over crabbing versus side-slipping, and how taildraggers are just cooler than tricycle gear aircraft in every way. (It seems every pilot who has ever learned how to fly a taildragger will tell you that.) But there always seems to be pilots hanging around in the clubhouse, and they’re never too busy to chat about aeroplanes, and so many of them have far more experience than me. It’s a huge resource – people I can go to if I’m uncertain about the weather, or have questions, or if something doesn’t sound right in the plane. Or who I could potentially ask to act as flight watch for me – someone on the ground who knows I’m out flying and knows what time to expect me back, who’ll take action if I don’t show up. The experienced community members look after the fledgling pilots, and they’d much rather have those pilots part of a supportive, safety conscious community than stuck on their own.
It’s amazing. And I don’t say that lightly. I think “amazing” is a bit of a melodramatic word, so I don’t like to use it unless there’s no other way to put it. Definitely something I’ve never experienced before, and it inspires me to want to get to a point where I can help others along who come after me, the way that so many people have helped me.
Lindsay Kitson - Author and Pilot 
Very glad that you have found a home in the aviation community. We need more people like you, always willing to learn, share experiences, or perhaps a yarn or two. You would be welcome in our community of “taildragger” pilots anytime!
I find it amusing how anyone who has ever learned (properly learned, not got frustrated and given up) to fly a taildragger, will go on about how taildraggers are way more awesome than tricycle gear aircraft in every way. Personally, I like the extra bit of challenge, but there’s something more than that about flying a taildragger that draws me to it that’s hard to explain. 🙂
Try a Stinson. You’ll love it.
Everybody has their favourite. I did my taildragger checkout on a citabria, and love that one. I’ve heard bush pilots swear by the cessna 180, so I wouldn’t mind trying that out, but the piper cub seems popular too.
It’s awesome that you’ve found a welcoming community.
Personally though, I hate the idea of small towns or being ‘raised by a community’.
I LOVE the anonymity of cities…and I think that’s why I thrived in university. People didn’t know me, so my ‘need to be the best’ was reduced, and i was able to compete solely against myself, rather than against my peers, or having teachers recognize me. I’ve in towns where everyone knows everyone, and it creeps me out. It also terrifies me because I’ve seen the ‘herd mentality’ of small communities be used to effectively cripple non-like-minded individuals, so I find it also squashes creativity and slows progress.
But I also can’t stand to participate in ‘programmed activities’, where I’m expected to show up at a specific time, X number of times a week, or X weeks. Yet I love to budget/plan, so I’m weird I guess.
We could probably have a good tea-outing and debate the pros of small-vs-large (or close-knit vs loose) communities though – each has their own advantages and challenges.
I get you with the need to be the best. Most artistic things I catch onto very quickly, and I stand out right away with relatively little effort, so it was hard when I turned out not to be instantly the most natural born pilot there ever was. 😛 I was average, as far as learning speed, but I’m persistent. And I’m a perfectionist, so I’ll never stop trying to be the best.
I grew up in a small city – not so small that I knew everyone, but small enough that if I walked out the door more than a couple blocks, I would see someone I knew. It was small enough not to have a geek community, and so I grew up thinking I was just weird and a loner. I guess I’d say I don’t like small towns, not because the knowing everyone creeps me out, but because I agree on the way they enforce conformity.
I like how in a city though, subcultures can form and create their own little communities. Like the geek community and the goth community. The aviation community is more like that, only a little less embracing individuality, but that’s out of necessity. They do welcome people into the community, but there are certain things, mostly related to safety, that can’t be flexible. There are different ways of managing safety at different locations, and sometimes in different situations – like at a fly-in when there are a lot more planes than usual at a very small airport, they’ll have marshals showing you where to park, rather than you parking where you like, but you get indoctrinated into all that, like the community has it’s own little culture.
Hi Lindsay I haven’t seen or talked to you for a long time. I think the last time I saw you was about 12 years ago at the portage hotel (sociables) Iol. I’m sitting here working nights at a job I hate and my Facebook boredom somehow brought me to your blog. It truly sounds like you are living an amazing life.. I am privileged to hear about it through your eloquent writing in your blogging. I can’t believe how far you have come since we were kids, it is inspirational to know that at-least some of us PCS kids are living out our dreams 🙂 I hope everything is always going good for you in your life and wish you the best always. If you haven’t figured out who I am by now the hint I will give you is us riding bikes to high bluff to go to garage sales Iol. I will check in time to time to read your new posts. It’s very strange to think I was once best friends with the person who is writing them! Keep living your dreams, you always were a big dreamer…
I remember the day we rode our bikes to high bluff! I never told my parents we’d gone that far. My mom still has the love letters you sent me when we were little. A girl never forgets her first kiss, even if it was when we were in grade two or three.
Big dreamer, yeah :P. I can’t remember how many times my parents and teachers told me to get my head out of the clouds. Ironic, huh?
I haven’t been in to portage much lately, but next time I’m out, I’d be happy to get together and catch up. 🙂
I wish you the best, and I hope you find something in your life that you have passion for.