When I was young, going to work with my dad was one of my favourite things. I idolised him, and being in his world felt like stepping into something grown-up and important. I remember him standing with me at our kitchen window during storms, teaching me to count the seconds between lightning and thunder to gauge the distance. It was such a small moment, but it sparked a curiosity in me that’s never left.
At RAAF Base Wagga Wagga, I’d watch him taxiing aircraft and teaching young members how to marshal. I remember the room—the smell of oil and fuel, the stacks of books, and the little window where I could see him moving the aircraft around. He asked me so many times that day to join him, but I hesitated, scared. Eventually, he gave me an ultimatum: it was my last chance, and I’d regret it if I didn’t try. With a mixture of fear and excitement, I climbed in and sat beside him in the cockpit, surrounded by levers and dials. I couldn’t see anything outside, but I vividly remember the moment he gently encouraged me to push the throttle forward. I felt the engine roar, and the aircraft moved because of me. That day, my dad taught me the thrill of sharing something exciting for the sheer joy of it. He showed me that scary things become possible with a great mentor. It’s a memory etched in my heart.
My mum, now my co-founder, instructor, and CFI, gave me that same passion for learning and discovery. She taught me how to sew in her cozy sewing cupboard, which felt like a secret workshop. Sitting beside her, I learned to create from scratch, and it was just as thrilling as any adventure. I don’t remember the exact things we made, but I remember the feeling of having a trusted teacher. I watched her craft beautiful, perfectly fitted dresses and win awards for her creations. Yet, it wasn’t those achievements that stayed with me. It was sitting in that cupboard, learning with her. It took me a long time to realise that she was teaching me to be both a learner and a teacher.
Both my parents showed me that beyond fear lie things worth doing, and we cheered each other on as we learned new things together—gliding, flying, car restoration, motorcycle riding, sewing, waterskiing, photography, drones, stunt driving. When you’re a learner, there’s no limit to what you can achieve.
These memories are at the heart of why we co-founded Flight Envelope. We believe every student deserves to be taught by someone who creates that kind of space—a place where it’s safe to try, make mistakes, and learn with excitement. Learning to fly isn’t just about mastering skills; it’s about discovering something within yourself and finding the thrill of exploration.
Those early experiences inspired my desire to be a mentor for others. Through my years of teaching, I’ve learned what a privilege it is to be invited into someone’s vulnerability. Teaching is a relationship built on trust. Just like when that little girl stepped out onto the tarmac, every student needs a trusted guide.
With Flight Envelope, we aim to help instructors become those kinds of mentors, providing tools that support consistent, inspiring teaching. We want students to feel they’re gaining confidence and discovering the joy of flight—not just checking off a list of manoeuvres.
As we start this journey together, my mum and I are excited to build a community of instructors and pilots who share this vision. For us, Flight Envelope is a way to honour the lessons from my parents and to pass on that spark of curiosity and wonder to the next generation of aviators.
What a fantastic read, Kristy.
I admire your perspective on teaching and learning - authentic, genuine and always caring about others.
This is exciting 🤩