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Chapter one : 

Backlash

I was yapping at my friends about my love for aviation, but their expressions changed like the speed of light from a smile to a disgusted look. My friend Kara uttered, “But you’re a girl, aviation is for guys, and do not tell me you are going to be a pilot! Leave the work for the men, we are supposed to cook and look after kids, you know that.”

I was drooling at how stupid that sounded. Let me remind you that we are in 2025, where women have freedom and can do what they want, but I guess some people are still stuck in time. I responded in an annoyed tone and uttered, “Are you living back in time? There are so many women in aviation. Not only that, why do men get away from household duties? It is not only up to us to look after the kids and cook. That is a backward way of thinking, and yes, I’m an aspiring pilot, and is there something wrong with that?”

Kara’s mouth dropped with disgust, and she just rolled her eyes and said, “Gurl, aviation is a guy thing. No girl likes aviation. Such a weirdo.”

The audacity of her! Then she just picked up her bag and said, “I’m out of here. No way am I being friends with you. Grow up and be a girl, not a guy!”

I was blank for a second, thinking to myself, what’s worth her and aviation? I was disgusted by her attitude. I thought she was a true friend. Anyway, it was time to move on and head back home, and I had a long story for my parents. Let’s fast forward a bit, specifically to what my parents said after the whole story.

Let’s start with my mother, a true girly girl. “Oh dear, but your friend does have a point. Aviation is a guy type of thing, you know. Maybe you should start rethinking your career choice. Maybe an artist or a fashion designer?”

Now before I could even respond to that, here comes my dad with his options. “Yeah, honey, you know only 6% of women make up for aviation.”

As I was fuming with rage, I had to lay it cool and said, “But mom, and dad, aviation is my passion, and I want to be a role model to others. And not only that, we're in 2025, not in the 1800s. Girls can do anything. Why do you guys think that girls can’t be into aviation or be pilots? Yes, I am aware it’s a male-dominated career, but I want that to change.”

Now, both my parents were too stunned to speak. They just looked at each other, thinking of a way to respond. My mother argued back at me and said, “Love, look, we tried to be nice about it, but aviation is not for girls. I can’t stop you from being a pilot, but mark my words, you will regret choosing that career. Don’t let your ‘passion’ choose your career, choose what’s right.”

My dad nodded along. At that point, I was like a ticking time bomb, but I took a deep breath and said, “Okay,” and went to my room crying in silence. Then I went to bed as it was a heavy day.

It’s the early hours of the morning, and a jet flies past my house, leaving me smiling. But it fades quickly as thoughts from yesterday rush into my mind. I find myself wondering whether I should just give up, but I never let it get to me. After all, I am up high in the clouds with my passion, and I am not going to let anyone crash my dreams down.

A scream echoed from the kitchen downstairs. “JENNIE, COME DOWN THIS INSTANT, WE NEED TO TALK.” I sighed, knowing what was about to come, and quickly ran down the squeaky old stairs straight to the kitchen. Awaiting at our small round table were my mom and dad, and before I could catch my breath, the long lecture began.

Mom started, “Jennie, please, for the sake of all of us, quit having a passion for aviation. You’re a woman, Jennie. Do something feminine, like be a fashion designer or something. I’m telling you this for your own good. We don’t want you to get hurt. You are not, and will never be, capable of handling an aircraft.”

I held my tongue, but I was fuming with rage. Those last sentences—“You’ll never be capable of handling an aircraft”—really ticked me off. I stayed cool and calm and responded with a short sentence, “Mom, that is your opinion, and this is my life, and I’m in control. I love you guys, but I am not going to let you crash my dreams.”

Now, here’s where things get ugly. My dad screamed at me, “LISTEN TO YOUR MOTHER, JENNIE! DO NOT DISRESPECT US! WE KNOW WHAT’S RIGHT. THIS IS NOT YOUR LIFE. WE ARE THE ONES IN CONTROL, AND IF YOU WANT TO STILL PURSUE THAT DREAM OF YOURS, THEN YOU ARE FREE TO GET OUT OF THIS HOUSE. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!”

Tears rolled down my face as I processed what I had just digested from my parents. It hurt. I was in agony. I replied, with tears running down my face, “What is it with you guys? Aviation is in 2025, not the 1800s!” Before I finished my sentence, my dad’s rage grew, and he yelled, “KEEP THAT TRASH CLOSED BEFORE I KICK YOU OUT OF THE HOUSE! JUST GET TO SCHOOL, YOU FOOL!”

I was blank and astonished by my parents’ attitude toward aviation. To make matters worse, my dad was so furious that he tore my presentation about aviation into pieces, while saying, “THIS WILL FIX YOU UP. THIS IS WORTH BEING IN THE TRASH, AND GOOD LUCK WITH A FAILING GRADE!”

The audacity of him! I was baffled by his childish behavior. I had had enough. I grabbed my bag, got out of the house, and headed to school with tears in my eyes. I was beyond hurt, and now I didn’t even have a presentation.

I was already broken mentally, and now my so-called friend Kara said, “Oh Jennie, please don’t tell me you’re going to talk about aviation today, and if so, GROW up.” Baffled and unable to speak, I just ignored her and walked away, but she followed and refused to leave me alone until I answered her. So, I told her, “Can you leave me alone? It is none of your concern what I have done, and dare you ask me again, I will get physical.” Okay, I know that was a bit dramatic, but I’ve been through so much crap in the morning, and I’m not up for more. “WHATEVER YOU FOOL, I DON’T CARE!”

I was relieved she stopped harassing me, but the drama didn’t end there. It was time for my presentation, and now, due to my dad’s arrogance and childishness, I had no presentation and had to come up with an excuse. And no, my teacher was not one of those kind, caring teachers; he is a ball of fire when you don’t do your work, so I was even more nervous. My heart was pounding with fear as I walked to my teacher, and my legs felt like jelly. I started by saying, “Oh, sir, I’m sorry, I did do my presentation, but during breakfast, I spilled water on it. I am aware it was negligence, and I am ready to be punished for my wrongdoing.”

After a minute of silence, he responded, “What a pathetic excuse. Get out and head to the principal’s office.” I am already dealing with so much, and now a ticket to the principal’s office? How much more can I bear? I am also a human. I made my way to the principal’s office, unaware of what may come next.

After 20 minutes of waiting, the principal made her entrance and started by saying, “I’ve heard what happened, Jennie. I thought you were better than this, and you need to be taught a lesson. So, 2 weeks of detention and a month of no recess. Now, please go back to class, and don’t let this happen again.”

Stunned and unable to speak, I just nodded and left. At this point, I feel like everyone’s against me. I truly feel like there is no point in living anymore.

While everyone is happy going home, I am dreading it. Delaying every step I took, I reached home and opened the rusty door knob. I didn’t even get a simple “Hello” from my mother, so as mature as I am, I decided to greet her and leave no hard feelings. But the arrogance from my father went on to my mother as she just rolled her beady eyes towards me.

So, I decided to speak up and said in an affirmative tone, “Mother, I have greeted you and you simply ignored me? Am I the parent or are you? I’ve already had a draining and tough day at school. I don’t need to come home where I am not even greeted. It seems as if Dad’s childishness and arrogance have rubbed off on you.”

My mother replied in an annoying tone, “Jennie, you’ve disrespected me numerous times. I just got a call from the principal about what you did. How have I, your magnificent mother, raised a liar? Why didn’t you tell the truth that you and your negligence didn’t come up with a presentation?”

There was a moment of silence as I was too stunned to speak. The audacity of her telling me I didn’t do a presentation, which I did! I spent weeks and weeks doing it, but my genius father tore it into pieces. Now, I didn’t have time to argue with her, so I simply went to my room, where I found all my aviation posters and memorabilia gone. I knew it was my father.

I couldn’t bear it anymore. I let out a full river on my bedroom floor and cried myself to sleep as if I’d had enough.