Meditation on Young Drivers

My biggest fear of driving has been confirmed: that there will come a day when I am forced to share the road with my driver’s ed classmates, a group that makes single celled organisms look like Nobel laureates. It’s upsetting for me to think that one 16-year old is convinced that the appropriate answer is, “Run him down!” to the question, “What should a driver do in this scenario?” I might have found some humour in his morbid comment initially, but given fixation on that response (it’s the one answer he’s ever offered and continues to offer), I’m forced to not only question whether I should ever enter another vehicle again, but be a pedestrian in Atlantic Canada, ever.

I’m not offended by the girl beside me, who, from what I can tell, is the fastest text messenger on earth—neglecting the “4 Habits” (and “20 Sub Habits”) that my driving school preaches, in favour of being in constant communication with her peers via an acronym based language that I’ll never understand. What do I care if she fails her exam through neglect? I don’t, except that I live in fear of the possibility (given the success rate of passing the driving exam for the people that attend this class) that she will, in fact, pass. I’m hoping her fondness for text messaging doesn’t transpose inside the vehicles, as it’s tough to keep your hands at “10” and “2” when you’re chatting with your girlfriends about the cute boy in class. It’s little wonder why drivers in her age bracket have the highest per capita driver fatality rate.

Actually, if you ever needed a reason to stay off the road, then driver’s ed is the place for you. Every reason not to drive is localized in one convenient classroom. The best part is that the instructor never garners the respect that a typical teacher does, so aberrations like crunching empty aluminum cans and the rustle of bags of chips are never governed, and escalate without consequence. But it really is my confidence in the future of our population that is shaken. During the last class the instructor would periodically display newspaper clippings describing horrific accidents and would ask us what the drivers had done wrong, other than cause massive carnage and destruction. One clipping described a woman who, in an attempt to miss a stray dog, crossed into the oncoming lane and struck the approaching vehicle head-on, killing the oncoming driver. We discussed the inappropriateness of the driver’s actions, and then behind me with the earnestness that only a teenager can provide came the query, “But what if she was an animal lover?” Slowly I turned to face her, and in a calm tone of voice that was quite the opposite of the sheer loathing I felt inside, I replied, “Don’t forget, people are animals too.” I understand that biology is not a prerequisite for driver’s ed—heck, I’m not sure I’ve taken a biology class in my life, but the world’s imminent doom was sealed in her following words: “No we’re not…people are mammals.” She sat back, confident that she had refuted my point of people being animals. On this rare occasion, I had the good fortune to be seated beside a young woman with above average intelligence, with a high regard for sarcasm. Although she masked her comment with the body language of muttering something under-your-breath, she had intentionally made it audible enough to garner a class guffaw. “Mammals, like dogs?” She asked rhetorically.

As quickly as my faith in humanity was redeemed, it declined again when we were asked to do an open book test, and 30% of the class failed.

My concern with my own behaviour behind the wheel is now completely overwhelmed by my concern with everyone else’s behaviour behind the wheel. An uncle of mine tried to assuage my fears earlier in the year by saying, “Sure it’s a little disconcerting at first, but eventually it’s just like flying a paper airplane.” Once, I had chatted with my Mom about what gave her faith in humanity. “Driving.” She said. I asked her to elaborate. “Well when you’re driving down the highway the only thing separating vehicles is a painted line. There are speed limits, but you can drive faster if you want. Yet, generally people drive staying to their own lane, most people drive around the speed limit, and generally people arrive at their destination no worse for wear than when they started. Given the amount of people on the road, there are surprisingly few accidents.” Her analogy of driver self-governance as a metaphor for a good and just society was solid. So while my faith in humanity is rocked by the prospect of driving, my Mother’s is affirmed. Then again, she’s never been to my Young Drivers class.