Rose, 2010 Girls With Wings Scholarship Winner

I could so easily begin this essay with a corny line about how flying is
comparable to breathing, or some other such cheesy starter, but that wouldn’
t be true. I would, obviously, be able to physically continue living if I wasn’t
able to fly.

However. As long as I can remember I’ve been looking up: up at the sky, up
at a plane, up at potential. There is so much sky up there that there’s bound
to be space for me.

The first time I can remember being truly aware of the sky and the lovely
mechanical beasts that traverse it was when I was in elementary school, when
my dad was stationed at Kirkland AFB in Albuquerque, New Mexico. At the
time, my dad was flying H-53 Pave Low helicopters. Sometimes, when I would
be at recess on the playground, I could hear the telltale whop-whop-whop of
helicopter rotor blades. It became almost instinctive to shade my eyes against
the sun, as I’d scan eagerly for the helicopter, hoping that it might be my
father flying.

That desperately eager sort of sky-scanning took a brief hiatus as my family
moved from New Mexico to Alabama, and Alabama to Stuttgart, Germany, as
we followed my father’s job wherever the Air Force took us. It wasn’t until my
freshman year in high school that I seriously began considering what I wanted
to do with my life. I can remember writing off to the Air Force Academy to
receive more information about them, and I also began flicking through my
father’s Air Force magazines to look at the planes.

I can’t say exactly when it started, but I can remember reading an article and
just being utterly fascinated by the giant C-5 Galaxy: a beast of a plane that,
by all appearances, doesn’t look like it should be able to take off the ground.
Imagine my joy when my father was stationed at Wright-Patterson AFB in
Dayton, Ohio, and I found out that we had eleven – not just one but eleven –
C-5 Galaxies stationed on base. I used to run outside to watch whenever I
could hear the slow moving drone of a C-5 overhead, lumbering its way slowly
through the air. I was a goner: hook, line and sinker.

When we moved to Eglin AFB, Florida, my neighbors got used to the site of
me sprinting barefoot down the street to watch F-15s and F-16s take off
from the runway that was literally no more than a half-mile away. I’d drop
whatever it was that I was doing as soon as I heard the scream of the jets
starting up during preflight: no matter whether it was cooking or homework
or talking to someone. It didn’t matter what I was doing; whatever it was
could wait until the planes had taken off.

The spring of my senior year my father asked me if I’d like to sign up for a
ground school course through the base aero club, and I agreed. To be quite
frank, I didn’t have the study skills needed for the course at the time and
struggled at the end. I’m currently in the midst of reviewing the course
information so that I can take the FAA knowledge test and continue my flight
training.

This summer, I’ve had the privilege to be able to fly. I’ve gone up almost
every week starting since my nineteenth birthday. The first time that I flew, I
was so nervous and excited I almost forgot to enjoy the ride. It’s been like
that every time since, but there’s always been this moment when
I’ve realized: I’m flying, and suddenly I’m flush with joy.

This past summer has been a whirlwind of working as a hostess at
Chili’s (to save money for both school and flying) and flying. I’ve never had a
summer go by so quickly, but it was worth it all to have flown. I’d wake up at
six to go fly during the summer and then head to work at eleven after. The
early summer mornings (unusual for a college student who’d prefer to sleep in
as much as possible) were always worth it the moment I got in the air.

I soloed on August 15th, 2010, after one aborted solo due to weather. For
me, it was one of those moments that I live for: when everything has crys-
tallized and I know, that in that moment, I’m doing what I’m supposed to do.

Now that I’m back at school, I’m in the midst of planning how to continue
flying in addition to my classes. Tomorrow will be the first FSU Seminole
Flying Club meeting of the semester, and I plan to attend. I’ve also called
Eagle Aircraft in Tallahassee to find out instructor costs and hourly flight
rental costs. As soon as I’ve figured out transportation to and from the
airport, I’m all set to fly on the weekends when I don’t have class (as my class
schedule is full every weekday: I’m taking seventeen credit hours this
semester).

I’ve also signed up for Air Force ROTC as a sophomore, so I’m hitting the
ground running to stay ahead. With an incoming class of forty-nine
sophomores and only fifteen slots for Field Training and commissioning next
year, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to put myself ahead of the game –
whether it be volunteering at home football games to sell concessions,
showing up to Physical Training three times a week instead of two, or getting
the highest scores I possibly can on the Air Force Officer Qualifying Test.

To pay for my flight time, my parents have been reallocating from my college
fund and I’ve been working hard to maintain my Florida Bright Futures
scholarship to compensate. I intend to study hard enough and train hard
enough to attain an AFROTC scholarship my junior year of college, but in the
meantime extra money for flying would mean that I don’t have to worry about
getting a job in addition to my classes or overloading my parents with flight
costs in addition to my tuition.

I fully intend to continue flight training through Eagle Aircraft this year in
pursuit of my Private Pilot’s license. I’m going to use my resources as much
as possible, by joining the FSU Flying Club so that I might have a support
base of fellow students. I’m also going to figure out how to combine the
Tallahassee public bus system and my bike so that I can get from campus to
the airport and vice versa. After I’ve attained my Private Pilot’s license I’d like
to get my IFR rating.

My current goal is to be able to fly for the U.S. Air Force after I graduate, and
I want it more than anything I’ve ever known. It’s why I have no option but
to fly, no option but to do my best, no option but to be better than all the
rest: because I have been called. I know, in my heart, that there is nothing I’
d rather do in life.

I believe I would be a good role model for the Girls With Wings organization
because of my age and determination. Because I am only nineteen years old, I’
ll inspire other young girls to become pilots. In a nation where only six
percent of registered pilots are female and where less than four percent of Air
Force pilots are women, preadolescent and adolescent girls need to be able to
look up at someone who attained the unlikely. I want to be an example for
those girls who’ve never seen a woman fight for a predominantly male-
oriented occupation. I want to be that success story that they use to
encourage themselves.

I am going to fly, because there’s nothing I want more in my life.