“The airplane can’t tell if you’re a man or a woman.”
Let it be said: We need more documentaries like this one.
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| Bernice "Bee" Falk Haydu, far left — one of three surviving WWII WASPs — watches as President Obama signs the proclamation that awards the Congressional Medal of Honor for their services. |
On top of which, this saga is a timely reminder of the perniciously subtle ways in which young women still are discouraged from STEM fields, because “it’s not something girls do well.”
Wiatt cross-cuts between three focal points: archival footage of the historical pioneers; interviews with 13 of today’s (frankly remarkable) pilots and astronauts; and intimate moments with 11-year-old Afton Kinkade, who has yearned to become a pilot pretty much since she could walk.
Afton divides her time between the roosting chickens at her family’s home in Tampa, Fla. — all of which she has named — and the scores of Lego creations, model planes and other items she has built and displayed in a bedroom also laden with aviation books and magazines.
She’s beguiling, calmly earnest and undeterred, even when among friends who don’t understand this passion. Why shouldn’t I become a pilot, Afton insists. (Answer, of course: No reason at all.)
The archival footage includes segments on (among others) Amelia Earhart; Geraldine “Jerrie” Mock, the first woman to fly solo around the world; and Bessie Coleman, the first African-American woman and Native-American to hold a pilot’s license … although not obtained in the United States, where this option was denied.
She therefore learned French at Chicago’s Berlitz Language Schools, traveled to Paris, and earned her pilot’s license from the Fédération Aéronautique Internationale on June 15, 1921. (So there, USA!)
Bernice “Bee” S. Falk Haydu bridges the gap between those trailblazers and the modern era, while relating her experiences as a WWII Women Air force Service Pilot (WASP). She’s a perky, cheerfully composed on-camera subject, while recalling the blatant discrimination and misogyny that she and her fellow WASPS endured.
(Excerpts from one training film of that era, detailing “the trouble with women in the military,” is positively cringe-worthy.)
The ultimate insult: Unlike WACs (Women’s Army Corps), WAVEs (Women Accepted for Volunteer Emergency Service, in the Naval Reserve) and SPARS (the Coast Guard Women’s Reserve), WASPS weren’t recognized as “military status” in the war’s immediate aftermath, and therefore weren’t eligible for veterans’ benefits.
That situation remained unchanged until 1977 (!).
Proving once again that living long is the best revenge, Haydu was one of three surviving WASPs invited to the Oval Office in 2009, when President Obama awarded the Congressional Gold Medal for their services.
(Sadly, Haydu died on Jan. 30 earlier this year, at the youthful age of 100 … which is to say, she sure was a spry 99 when Wiatt interviewed her.)
Stand-outs among the other on-camera subjects include:
• Shaesta Waiz, the first female certified civilian pilot born in Afghanistan, who founded her own non-profit organization Dream Soar Inc., and became the youngest woman ever to fly solo around the world in a single-engine aircraft, when she landed her Beechcraft Bonanza A36 on Oct. 4, 2017;
• Patty Wagstaff, a U.S. national aerobatic champion who earned her wings while living in Alaska, and has since become a stunning pilot whose stunts — several minutes’ worth included here — will leave you gasping for breath, with mouth agape (assuming you’ve not succumbed to motion sickness);
• Nicole Stott, an engineer and 27-year NASA veteran who, among her many other accomplishments, was flight engineer on ISS (International Space Station) Expeditions 20 and 21, and who undoubtedly helped inspire…
• Abigail Harrison, also known as “Astronaut Abby,” founder and leader of The Mars Generation, and an enthusiastic advocate of STEM teaching and the United States Space Program; and
• Tammy Duckworth, a retired Army National Guard lieutenant colonel who served as a U.S. Army combat helicopter pilot during the Iraq War, the details of which are heart-stopping, and — oh yes, not to be overlooked — currently is the junior U.S. Senator from Illinois.
They all have terrific on-camera presence, and obviously spend a lot of time as incredibly successful motivational speakers. But for sheer, jaw-dropping awesomeness, nobody touches the experiences shared by the aptly named Vernice Armour, the first African-American female naval aviator in the Marine Corps, and the first African-American female combat pilot in the U.S. Armed Forces.
She’s rather matter-of-fact about the whole thing. Indeed, she jokes about it. (“You know what they say: Black people don’t fly.”)
She isn’t merely a powerful presence with charisma to burn; she’s also a terrific raconteur, while relating a story — about flying her beloved AH-1W SuperCobra attack helicopter, during the 2003 invasion of Iraq and subsequent Operation Iraqi Freedom — that’ll have you at the edge of the seat.
Exciting as that saga is, it boasts an equally compelling epilogue … which, like a master storyteller possessing a stage comic’s timing, she relates with a twinkle in her eye.
Wiatt never preaches, nor does her film ever become strident; she simply lets all these individuals — and their exploits — demonstrate the folly and short-sightedness of discouraging women from such careers.
“Women make up 51 percent of the population,” Harrison reminds us, “so if we’re not encouraging women to be in STEM fields, then we’re losing out on 50 percent of the brain power, on 50 percent of the creativity, on 50 percent of the different perspective that we could be having.”
And that — no matter what your biases, misguided chauvinism or misconceptions — is Just. Plain. Stupid.
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