Page 97 of Come Fly with Me

“Okay,” I reply cautiously. “What has he told you?”

“That you’re hoping to bring awareness to the pay gap between male and female pilots. That you want pay equality.”

I love that this woman has reached out to me because the more of us we have, the more likely we are to incite change. But she’s fighting for something she doesn’t fully understand, which is the trouble with bringing in others. They need to know what they are asking for or in this case, what we’re more or less demanding.

I can’t continue to make idle threats and then keep showing up, doing my job as if women all over the world aren’t being fucked over. I have to be prepared to walk away should this not all play out the way it should. And since this woman has reached out to me, she needs to understand what it is we, as women, are fighting for.

“Have you reached out to anyone else?” I ask, wondering how far we could conceivably take this. This is not just a Crescent Airways issue; it’s an issue affecting women in almost all jobs.

“There’s only two of us at Hawaii Air, so she knows, but I know there’s Facebook groups and things like that where we could reach out to more female pilots.”

“I had no idea it would reach this far,” I reply, wondering what I’m getting myself into and if I’m really ready to take on something this huge.

“Well, we weren’t thinking that you would take this on for everyone, but if other airlines see that Crescent Airways has made changes to the way they pay their pilots, then we can hope that other smaller ones follow suit. We’d be there to support you.”

“Okay, I hear what you’re saying. But we need to talk about what I’m looking for and if it’s something that you’re interested in.”

“Okay.”

“So you said ‘I want pay equality’ when we first started talking. That’s not what I want, and I understand why you would say that. Most people use that term and equity interchangeably, but they’re not the same thing. I’m not necessarily looking for pay equality because that basically means that everyone should be paid the same for the same job.”

“But isn’t that what you’re looking for? To be paid the same as the guy sitting next to you or the guy who’s a captain too?” she questions, and I hear the confusion in her voice.

I’ve never gone into something without knowing all the information because when you’re trying to make a change, people look to knock you down. They look to find what you don’t know or what you may be ignorant about. Even worse there will be men who think they’re smarter and will try to use their power to manipulate a situation. You will always have to know more and be one step ahead to make your voice heard.

“That would mean that all first officers, for example, would be paid sixty thousand a year, and all captains would be paid eighty. No one would be given credit for evaluations or work experience, and everyone would get a small cost of living increase. There would be no benefit to doing your job well or company loyalty.”

“Okay, I get what you’re saying. We don’t want communist Russia,” she jokes, and we both laugh.

“We want pay equity. We want to be paid the same as the guy sitting next to us if he or she has the same experience, the same degree, the same evaluation score. All bonuses, profit-sharing and additional pay would be dished out this way too. It’s more complicated, but it’s also more reasonable. We also want to hold the airline accountable for pay parity.”

“Well, however you see this playing out, we want to be a part of it. I’ll start doing some research, and hopefully, we can help each other.”

“Sounds good and I’ll be in touch. Thanks for calling, Emily.”

As I hang up the phone, I realize this has gone beyond just my small little world and I can only hope I’m able to push to make some changes. There will be men at Crescent Airways that have no interest in helping, but not only that, they probably don’t care either. I really just need enough of them that our voices are louder.

My phone chimes out again, but this time it’s a text from Carrie.

Carrie: You’re killing me here. What did Jake say? Or are you already shacking back up with him and that’s why I haven’t heard from you?

Me: Not shacking up with him, but damn it did he look good or what?

Carrie: Then you should be shacking up with him. Wanna drink a bunch of wine and fill me in on what happened?

Me: Yeah sure. Your house or mine?

Carrie: I’ll come to you. It’s almost bedtime and that’ll give me an excuse to not have to help.

Me: I’ve got the wine.

When Carrie arrives, I’m on my third glass of vodka and far drunker than I planned on getting, but as someone who unhealthily uses alcohol to cope with problems, I don’t think I’m doing too badly tonight.

“Self-medicating with your best friend vodka, I see,” Carrie states as she walks in the door, but there’s no judgment in her voice. She knows me well enough to know this is what I do and when I come out of it, I’m a little more broken but with a little thicker skin. “So what did he say?” Carrie prompts, opening a bottle of pinot noir and pouring us both a glass.

“He was in a bad place and got married on a whim. The marriage meant nothing, which is why he didn’t tell me.” I shrug my shoulders, contemplating my words and his, but still not grasping the entirety of the situation. I have no idea how to proceed.

“So that’s it? I really wanted him to come in big and this…” Carrie pauses, her nose wrinkled up. “Jake is losing.” Her head falls into her hands dramatically, and I laugh a little. “I had such high hopes for him.”

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