Just like Dad?
I couldn't see what I couldn't see.
Fun fact: I’m a 3rd generation Air Force pilot.
Strange fact: No one was more surprised by this development than me.
I was literally born into the Air Force. I’m the daughter and granddaughter of pilots. Immersed in the culture.
But as a kid I never thought I could grow up to become a pilot myself.
Not because my parents didn’t support me or because I couldn’t afford college.
Not because I didn’t like planes, or because people told me I couldn’t.
I just never saw anyone in a flight suit who looked like me.
Grand-daddy loved telling stories of flying in Vietnam and the two times he ejected (yes, two!) from aircraft.
DAD doesn't tell as many stories, but I remember growing up around his F-15C squadrons and enjoying the camaraderie.
My sisters and I loved watching him perform for thousands of people as a demo pilot, and thought that’s what everyone’s dad did. Also there was usually cotton candy at air shows. Coolest dad ever.
But I never saw a woman flying.
It was always the dudes.
The wives cooked potluck and played bunco.
I remember thinking, maybe I’ll marry someone in the Air Force one day.
That could be cool.
I wasn't mad, and I didn't feel slighted that women weren’t pilots.
It was just part of my reality.
Anyway, over time I realized my true calling was in teaching.
I didn’t know the medium and dabbled in options until I landed on music during college. I thought, okay, final answer. I’ll be a music teacher.
Then I ended up teaching people how to fly.
The world flipped upside down
I was studying fine arts in college on September 11, 2001. I watched the second tower collapse on tv but couldn’t comprehend what it meant for the US or the world.
Initially I didn’t think it would affect me much other than some cancelled classes and new airport rules. I was ignorant to how many lives would be changed or lost from the events of that terrible day.
My world was so small, and I had no clue how big things were about to become.
A few weeks later my roommate Laura came home and said she was going to see the Air Force ROTC recruiter; did I want to go with?
An interview, some paperwork, some testing, a big decision. Laura decided not to sign up, but I was in.
I don’t know if I would’ve joined then if I hadn’t experienced the Air Force as a kid. Or if 9/11 hadn’t happened. Or if Laura hadn’t thought to check it out. Or a million other things. But I’m a woman of faith, and believe I’m on the path I’m meant for, winding as it is.
As I completed the paperwork and signed my life over to the military, the staff sergeant dropped a question like it was just another “check this box” or “initial here.”
“Your test scores are pretty high, do you want to apply for a pilot training slot?”
Um. Me? But I’m a girl. (I did not say this out loud.)
“But I wear glasses.” (I did say that out loud.)
“You can get a waiver,” he said.
And that was that.
Change is slow but constant
In 2005 I was the only woman in my pilot training class of twenty-four people.
I would spend most of my assignments being the only or one of the few women in my unit. Over time, the numbers slowly grew.
In 2014 my squadron finally had more women than I could count on one hand.
In 2017 my boss was, for the first time, a (badass) woman. So was her boss.
In 2020 I took command of a squadron with so many women I would have to look at a recall roster to tell you the number. Maybe 20 out of 150 people.
I was the 60th commander of the 7th Airlift Squadron, but the first who happened to be a woman.
I didn't want anyone to notice or care about that. Like most of the people I served with, we didn’t want to stand out for our differences.
We just wanted to be part of the team.
I kept missing what was right in front of me
I didn’t recognize it as a young officer, but the numbers were similar for other minority groups and people of color. Never mind the “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” policy that silenced a whole portion of our population until 2011.
I was too busy trying to blend in to notice if anyone else was sticking out.
All of these minority groups started small, but representation slowly grew.
Could I write buckets of stories on how bad things used to be? On the things I ignored, pretended were fine, or even laughed along with to fit in?
Yes. For days.
Does this mean the majority of people I served with were crap?
No.
All the people I served with were amazing. Incredible humans who truly cared about each other and our country. Okay, maybe 99%. There’s always that guy.
We overlooked some things we shouldn’t have, but we did look out for each other.
My lens is one of gratitude: as we learned how to treat each other better, I believe most of us did just that.
Still I wonder. What are we missing now that we can’t see?
Politics suck but people are the best
Our country and military culture have swung wildly over the last few years, from aggressive DEI policies, to reversal, to erasure of history.
Hurdles that took decades to remove so people could try to get a fair shake are being put back up, disguised as “equality.”
It feels like whiplash as we correct and overcorrect, back and forth, with each new policy. Somewhere in the middle there’s got to be a better way.
Politics are a sticky subject and not my normal vibe.
But come on, guys (in the most gender-neutral variety).
We’ve worked way too hard to open doors. We can’t close them now.
For those still serving: keep looking out for each other like you always do. It matters.
For anyone who wants to know what the heck I’m talking about, check out Jessica Ruttenber’s Substack, Hidden Barriers. She packs current events, advocacy, and community for women and minorities groups in the military, all in one newsletter.
To the leaders out there, military, civilian, or otherwise: you will always have policies you disagree with.
Whether they’re things you can or should fight against is a separate issue, but you can always make a difference for the people on your team.
You can treat them with dignity and respect.
See people for who they are and support them in becoming who they want to be.
We can all do better to fix the wrongs we can see.
And work harder to find the barriers hiding in plain sight.
Finally.
Happy Father’s Day, DAD! Thanks for believing in me and encouraging me to do more than either of us ever thought I could. Okay, maybe just more than I thought I could.
And hugs to my father-in-law, husband, and wonderful brothers-in-law. But you get no Father’s Day presents unless you tell me the secret code word “CHUPACABRA” to prove you love me enough to read all the way to the end of my article.
Just kidding, I don’t buy presents. The kids will make you a card. 😘
Sunny skies,
Susie ☀️
That is so cool. 😎
Fabulous, being part of the family, and how much of the sky they have soared through.