What Do You Want to Be When You Grow Up?
- Brainz Magazine

- Oct 8
- 8 min read
Updated: Oct 9
Written by Dawn Whyte, Career Coach
Dawn Whyte is known for her work in building individual resilience in aviation. She is an air traffic controller, keynote speaker, and founder of Dawn Whyte Aviation Career Coaching.

It feels like just yesterday that question was being asked. I remember clearly, at age 12, I wanted to be an air traffic controller. I didn’t really know what the job entailed, but my dad was a pilot, and I’d spent time in the cockpit with him, squeezed into a cramped little jump seat, headset on, listening to a symphony of voices and instructions. In my naïve mind, I thought I had it all figured out, he’d say something to them, they’d respond and tell him what to do, and he would do it. A job where I could tell my father where to go? Sold.

This was before 9/11, when aviation was far less regulated. Sitting in a cockpit or arranging a visit to an Air Traffic Control facility was as simple as knowing someone and asking to tag along. I was lucky enough to visit both a control tower and an IFR Center, where I got a glimpse into the environment and heard firsthand from controllers about what the role was really like. It felt like a giant video game, and I loved the idea of being in control. (Can you tell I’m Type A?)
Was the job different from what I imagined? Absolutely. But here I am, 36 years later, just six months away from retirement. I don’t feel old enough to have logged that many years, and yet I have. It’s gone by in the blink of an eye. And now, another phase of life is just around the corner.
Looking back on my career, I have so many great memories. I am fortunate for the career I have had and the opportunities it has afforded me, both within the industry and beyond. Of course, there are a few moments I would like to do over, maybe even a couple I’d rather forget. There were times of real frustration, and others when my heart was pounding so hard I thought it might leap out of my chest. But that’s life, isn’t it? It’s never perfect, and it is unrealistic to expect to love every aspect or agree with every decision that shapes your work. Still, at 56, I remain the eternal optimist. It’s just part of who I am.
As I step into retirement, my hope is that I leave this role, and the work itself, in a better place than I found it. That the path is a little smoother for those who follow, with fewer unnecessary hurdles and a deeper understanding that people are at the heart of everything we do. If we don’t protect and support them, we will have nothing.
For me, these last years have been focused on the goal of contributing in ways that make the work safer, more thoughtful, and more human-centered. This shift didn’t happen by accident, it came from personal experiences that left a mark. I faced challenges that I wouldn’t wish on anyone, and those moments resulted in a deep commitment to do everything I could to ensure others wouldn’t have to go through the same. Every experience has shaped me. Even the mistakes have been a lesson. And while the journey hasn’t been without its challenges, I can look back on the past 36 years with gratitude and a legacy I’m genuinely proud to leave behind.
I’m not sure who I imagined I’d be at this point in my life, but I’m happy with who I’ve become, and ATC has played a huge role in my evolution. ATC has been a constant thread, woven into every decision, every day, every consideration. And as I move forward, I carry with me the lessons learned, the relationships built, and the belief that meaningful change is always possible.
When people ask what it takes to succeed in this career, I always say the same thing, be ready for the unexpected. Don’t quit just because the going gets tough. And yet, still have fun. Pick your battles. Use your voice. Your career will shape you, but it’s not all of you. Enjoy the ride while it lasts, because it will end.
And now, if you’ll indulge me, here’s what ATC has taught me, about life and about myself.
Learning to deal with the Boys’ club
When I started 36 years ago, I could count the number of women air traffic controllers I worked with on one hand. And no, the workforce was not ten people, it was closer to a hundred. Four other women. That was it, Janine, Heather, Monica, and Marie. Each one unique, but all had confidence, pragmatism, and a sharp sense of humour.
I was walking into a boys’ club, language, topics, and all. I will never forget the day I opened a drawer under a large map we used. I had no idea why I had not noticed it before, but there it was, stuffed full of gentlemen’s magazines. And I mean full. I was surprised, but not at the same time. The drawer incident was just a snapshot of the culture I was stepping into, unapologetically male, with norms that were deeply ingrained and unlike anything I had experienced before.
I knew I was not going to change that overnight. I also knew I was not going to morph into one of the guys. But I could still be myself and find ways to join the conversation. Asking questions instead of charging in ready to battle turned out to be a smart move. I listened to what they had to say and asked questions. It was, for me, the best way to get to know them all. I was never going to be part of the club, but I figured out how to be adjacent to it and perfectly content. Heck, I did not want to join their club, I was going to start my own.
Let it go and grow
There is this weird assumption that if you make a mistake and don’t stew on it for a while, you must not be taking it seriously enough. That is nonsense. You mess up, own it, fix it, and move on. In ATC, you do not get the luxury of wallowing. There are ten other things demanding your attention to keep planes safely apart, and if you don’t get your head back in the game, that one mistake can snowball into a whole lot more.
Life is no different. Mistakes happen. Deal with them, learn from them, and then let them go. Dwelling on them like it is some kind of personal penance does not make you noble. It just wastes time you could be using to grow, improve, or do literally anything more useful. Progress does not come from beating yourself up. It comes from getting back up and moving forward.
Life is a team sport
Honestly, I do not know why we are so determined to do everything alone and struggle through it. Is it some kind of personal branding exercise? A North American badge of honour? I really don’t get it. I cannot do everything, and guess what? I am not supposed to. You do what you can, and you ask for help with the rest. Like reaching for something on the top shelf when you are 5 feet tall. You would ask for help then, wouldn’t you? So why should the rest of life be any different?
I do not control all the airspace, just like I cannot control every part of life. But I can be part of a team that makes even the biggest challenges work. Whether it is in the middle of a busy departure push or in everyday life, there is a time to go solo and a time to ask for help. Knowing the difference is a skill and one worth learning. No one expects you to have all the answers or to carry the load entirely on your own. Growth happens in learning when to step up, when to lean on others, and how to find that balance. And that growth journey is called life.
Adapting is key to success
There is a saying that the only constant in life is change. Ironic, but true. When I look back over my career, the amount of change is staggering. When I started, the technology was basic, though at the time, it felt cutting-edge. I did not know any better. My exposure to computers was Space Invaders. (What can I say, I was not the cool kid.) Fast forward to today, I can track aircraft anywhere in the world and send messages to pilots via text. Wild.
But all that progress comes at a cost. You cannot be rigid. You have to keep adapting. Not every change is ideal, and it is rarely on your timeline. Sometimes it is great, sometimes it is frustrating, and sometimes you hit a wall and think, “Okay, enough already.” But guess what? You still have to find a way to roll with it.
Change fatigue is real. Do not let it sneak up on you. Be proactive. Think about times you have managed change well. What helped? What tripped you up? What can you do next time to manage those emotions and reactions in a healthier way?
Change is coming, whether you like it or not. And whether you thrive or struggle often comes down to how prepared you are to meet it. That goes for work and life. And the skills you build to adapt in one area? They transfer beautifully to another. (See point 3, teamwork helps.)
Laugh often
I can’t tell you how many times I go to work and end up in fits of laughter, usually because of something ridiculous I’ve said or done that makes people look at me and go, “Wait, you control planes for a living?” Yep. That’s me.
Laughter isn’t just fun, it’s essential. It’s one of the best tools we have for mental health. In a high-stakes job like air traffic control, staying mentally sharp is a must. Laughter helps release stress, reset your focus, and remind you that you are human. The healthier you are mentally, the better you are at making split-second decisions that keep everyone safe.
So, find the humour. Laugh at yourself. You are not meant to be perfect, and thank goodness for that. I’m so far from perfect, I cannot even see the finish line. Life is serious enough. A good laugh might just be the best kind of therapy. And if you are like me, you’ll unintentionally create the comedy as you go.
As I prepare to close this chapter, I offer this advice to those stepping into the role, enjoy the journey. Every twist, every triumph, every lesson. It moves faster than you think, and before you know it, you’ll be looking back, wondering when it all flew by. Hopefully, when that moment comes, you’ll do it with a smile, a full heart, and no regrets. Just gratitude for the ride and pride in the path you navigated.
Read more from Dawn Whyte
Dawn Whyte, Career Coach
Dawn Whyte is an aviation career coach who excels in resilience training. She is known for her work assisting individuals in navigating stressful situations with confidence and determination. With 35 years of experience as a successful air traffic controller, Dawn leverages her personal story to connect and inspire others to embrace life challenges with renewed optimism and intention. Faced with an unexpected and life-changing job change when she least expected it, she seized the opportunity to create a role focused on promoting mental health and wellness in aviation. Dawn's unique perspective has made her a trailblazer in aviation and a trusted voice of reason in an ever-changing industry.









