"Self-Learning" to fly
I've been working with one flying student since last Fall. Accompanying him as he learns to fly by reference to the instruments in the panel (e.g. attitude indicator, heading indicator, airspeed indicator, altimeter). He already has a pilot's license and now he's working on the next skill level -the skill which will permit him to fly through clouds without reference to the ground below. I say "accompanying" the student in a nod to the concept that we are all born with the innate knowledge of everything we need to know. The act of teaching is simply creating the opportunities for the student to discover the knowledge that's already within him (or her) self.
This student is particularly reflective. He can be very focused and performs exceedingly well at tasks, but as with all of us he continues to make errors as he is learning. He's usually pretty tough on himself. After a flight he'll focus on the errors and he voices concern that he still makes mistakes. It seems to weigh even more heavily if it's a mistake he has made before,
Surprisingly, at this stage mistakes are OK. In fact, he is so far along in training that mistakes are encouraged. In the early lessons I gave constant immediate feedback to help him focus on the basics of simply flying the airplane straight and level. When he had gained mastery of aircraft control we moved on to flying procedures through which he can guide the plane down to the runway in cloudy or low visibility conditions.
Nowadays I don't point out errors anymore - the student has reached a point where he discovers the errors on his own. But why have I reduced the amount of feedback as he flies? Am I being mean? Am I being inconsiderate? Neither! The student has attained a level of skill in which he has become "self-monitoring" and "self-learning". It's now my role to expose him to new situations while continuing to ensure that we conduct our flights safely. I guess what it boils down to is that I am his "training wheels". I give him room to lose his balance, but without the risk of tipping over.
That he is *self-learning* is important because soon he'll be alone piloting the aircraft through the clouds. I already have confidence in his abilities to recognize unsafe situations, to recognize mistakes before they become critical. In fact, one of the final lessons on the plate here is for him to recognize those same truths for himself. For him to recognize that he has attained a mastery of the airplane and the environment that allows him to operate within safe parameters.
You ask "how could this be such a big lesson, isn't it obvious to the student how much he has improved?"
Well no, it's not immediately evident to the student. We've completed about thirty flights together and on every one he has made some type of mistake. So after every flight he relives the lesson and the most recent errors he has made, often without seeing them in the broader context. The student doesn’t (and can't possibly) have the vantage point that I do. Each and every time we get together I can see *the mistakes that he is no longer making*. If students treated themselves with the same patience, the same confidence that I have in them, many of their fears and concerns would be allayed. But I guess, that's the final lesson for the student, mastering himself.
I love flying. I love teaching. I love learning.
As is typical for a student, insight sometimes dawns on me slowly. As I think about my own personal journey I consider how Alex has served as my guide. Then it dawns on me that I've probably come along much, much further than I can imagine. However it is that you see me as you read this blog, I still focus on my errors. I still focus on what I think I have yet to achieve. If I could learn to treat myself with the same patience, the same confidence, the same love which others bestow on me, I just might take another step in mastering myself. ;)
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home