It’s what we do or are capable of doing that really matters

Ever since I was a kid, I always wanted to be an airline pilot when I grew up. I liked to read, and I read every book on aviation I could find.

I’ll never forget my first lesson. I thought my job was to convince the instructor that I really didn’t need him, that I already knew how to fly. We took off in a Cessna 150. It was a beautiful day, and the instructor told me to take over. We flew straight and level at about 120 mph, and I was feeling pretty good. Everything was working just like it said in the books.

He asked me to pull back on the yoke (steering wheel) and slow the plane down to 110 mph, which I did. Then he asked me to bring it back to 100 mph, then 90, then 80. The plane was hanging by its propeller and you could tell the engine was not enjoying this labor. “Bring it back to 70.” And all of a sudden, the plane broke and started falling out of the sky in a full stall! I was so scared I let go of everything and held on to my seat. The instructor got us back under control.

What I quickly realized is you can’t learn to fly by reading a book. There was no substitute for learning to fly in a real plane under various conditions and expert guidance. I’ve since learned that’s true of so many other things as well.

We also can’t learn how to manage or lead without spending some time in the cockpit and actually succeeding at a few things.

Dwight D. Eisenhower once said, “Leadership is the art of getting someone else to do something you want done because he wants to do it.” He was the supreme allied commander in Europe during World War II. He got thousands of young G.I.’s to storm the beaches of Normandy, and they knew many of them wouldn’t survive. Yet the general knew they couldn’t succeed unless his men actually wanted to do it.

I don’t care if you’ve got a Harvard MBA, and I’ve worked with a few of those. They’re brilliant, but until they successfully run a project or two and their people want to stay on their team, they really aren’t managers or leaders.

In aviation, it’s pretty simple. Unless you learn how to do some things very well, you’re just not going to survive. Fortunately, management isn’t always as deadly as aviation. Yes, some failures have catastrophic consequences, but some bumbling managers seem to lead charmed lives. No matter how poorly they do, they always move onto something else before the reckoning.

When I used to fly, and I turned onto final approach, I could see the tiny runway in the distance, often no bigger than a cigar, and I had to get that airplane down on it, despite crosswinds and everything else. It made no difference whether I was black or white. What mattered was whether or not I had the skills and experience to successfully land that plane. When you’re the only one aboard, you know it’s you, nobody else.

Few things are more distressing than the racial divides we experience today. Regardless of the color of our skin, our blood is red, and we all bleed and die equally as well. Why not look beyond the color of our skin and focus on helping each other become the very best we can be?

Not everyone can fly an airplane. Not everyone can become a leader or a manager. But none of us will ever be happy unless we’re doing the very best we can to improve the lives of those around us, regardless of the color of our skin.

The color of our skin isn’t what’s important. Ronald J. Bourque, a consultant and speaker from Salem, has had engagements throughout the United States, Europe and Asia. He can be reached at 603-898-1871 or RonBourque3@gmail.com.