I’ve attended the EAA event countless times, having grown up in an aviation family and, more recently, being married to a private pilot. It’s always a fun time, becoming gradually more interesting to me as I’ve learned about it. At the same time, I am not one who, personally, has my heart set on flying. I don’t yearn for the freedom of flight. I don’t have an aching desire to soar above the clouds. So EAA has been fun, but has not been a particular passion of mine.

This year, however, EAA held a few surprises for me, ones that changed my perspective.

During the morning of my first day at the show, I met John, an airplane salesperson. Upon hearing about my background and my interest in helping companies better connect with their female consumer base, he said something that would change the rest of my EAA experience: “The aviation industry needs your help.”

At once, and for the rest of the weekend, I saw the show with new eyes. Everything felt even more familiar to me: the vendors speaking to male customers and virtually ignoring female ones. The testosterone-drenched marketing efforts. The awkward attempts to integrate and appreciate women in this decidedly man’s world.

It all seemed so similar to what I’ve experienced first-hand, working in the electronics industry. All the times in my career when I was the only woman on staff.  When I went out of my way to be “one of the guys.” When I began researching and teaching men about the power of the female consumer.

Everything I saw here had a direct parallel to my life’s experience.

Later that same day, EAA held its daily airshow – featuring an all-female cast of pilots, skydivers, wingwalkers and aerobatic performers – a first in the airshow’s 56-year history. But, the show’s impact was lessened by its bookend male acts, its fumbling commentator, and its patronizing soundtrack (you guessed it: “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun”).

The organization was clearly making an effort; they just didn’t know how to do this right. At the end of the day, these amazing women pilots had showcased not their accomplishments, only their novelty. The entire episode felt more like a sideshow than the day’s main event.

In the evening, a “Women in Aviation” panel discussion continued the day’s theme. Female aviators described their passion for flying and told of the experiences that brought them here. As I watched, I saw women doing all they could to fit into a man’s world. When a couple of the panelists commented that they are “not typical women” and that they “can’t cook at all,” I could relate.

For me, it was never a conscious decision, just an instinct: over the years, I had modified my words and actions – slowly becoming one of the guys by drawing a distinction between me and the girls. I highlighted certain aspects of myself (I’m not into scrapbooking) while ignoring other parts (I love baking). To be one of the guys, I learned golf, smoked cigars, and took training to install car stereos. I was busy showing and telling that I could be accepted because I wasn’t a typical girl.

Only recently have I figured out that it’s not me who had to change, it’s the industry around me. That I could do more for the business, and for women, by working for both, instead of choosing one over the other.  That being boldly who I am – both typically feminine and uniquely me – will create positive change in the industry and in society.

In recent years, the electronics industry has started to consider the impact that women have. They’re seeing the opportunity, making gradual changes, and reaping the benefits of creating solutions for the other 51% of the population.

The aviation world is not there. But it’s moving.

I’ve decided to take a more active role, to help coax it in the right direction. My life has given me great insight into worlds like this one. I can help this industry.

And all the women who love to fly.

In between booths of artists selling their wares were a few non-art vendors, including the New York Times. While my mom and I passed by, the man working this booth suggested that we sign up for a NYT subscription. I thanked him, let him know that I receive all my news digitally, and complimented his employer on their mobile subscription and iPhone app.

The gentleman informed me that these digital subscription offerings do not include the full content from the New York TImes. To this, I replied that they should; it would be great to have access to all the great Times content digitally!

Then came the line that floored me:

“You should support print media.”

Really?

That’s it? I just “should”?

In that moment, I started to understand a major factor in the crisis that the newspaper industry is facing: they just think paper is better. Why? Because it is.

The argument for print media seems to say, “hey everybody, just start buying printed newspapers again, and then we can all go back to normal.”

I do understand that the newspaper business model has been turned upside down. That newspapers are going bankrupt. That advertising revenues fell nearly 30% in the first quarter of 2009.

This is an extraordinary time, and the whole newspaper industry is changing. To say the least, it’s not easy.

But the situation garners less pity from me when I hear people defend and encourage the industry’s current state. This position implies that there is an inherent value in the print distribution of the content. Which is odd, because the paper itself is simply a distribution channel. And channels come and go with time.

Prior to newspapers, town criers just yelled out the news. Later, papers were hawked by newsies on street corners. More recently, newspaper carriers delivered papers to customers’ homes. Today, news is available in a myriad of formats, both written and broadcast. Now, distribution models for news are changing again. More fundamentally this time.

The New York Times – like every paper – needs to understand that its value is in its content. Not its medium. People like me still want news. We want in-depth reporting. We want insightful journalism. The market is there.

For my part, I will register. I’ll provide my demographic profile. I’ll read ads. I’ll subscribe.

And so, I’m confident that a new business model will emerge – whether it is fee-based, ad-supported, social or non-profit – that makes this service viable. Along the way, some news services will fail. Others will succeed.

The newspapers that focus on their content, and experiment with different business models, will survive. And thrive. Albeit, reinvented. The ones who ask digital subscribers to switch back to paper will fail.

When our lives are mobile, paperless, streaming, we need to have our journalism provided in a medium that fits our lifestyle.

In a word: digital.