The Empty Seat

Education is not about memorization, or being able to repeat the statistics and facts of the lesson. It is about application, and relating one’s personal experiences to their everyday routines. Driver’s education follows these same principles, where memory recall of a terrible car accident or untimely death prevents someone from pushing through the light that always seems to be turning yellow. Humans, being the visual and auditory learners that we are, require the devastating stories on the nightly news to repel us from driving carelessly. Without people being educated and aware of the threat they pose while on the road, there would be no standard of driving conduct.

I don’t believe there are ‘steps’ that reduce death tolls, but rather, it is the past that prevents disorderly chaos on our streets. As terrible as it may be, we fail to recognize the atrocity of what vehicles can do unless they directly impact our lives. Lately, I’d been feeling confident on the roads, and the idea of driving didn’t totally unsettle me. Then two high school students, both my age, were killed by a drunk driver. Another girl in town was killed on impact by a previously convicted felon, who had been drinking with the intent of hurting the next stranger he passed. They were only seventeen, with their entire future at the tips of their fingers. They had heard back from colleges, gotten a prom dress, and had played in their final hockey game. Now they will never graduate, walk down the aisle, hear their favorite song, or be aware of their full potential. Their parents will never hug them again, or say “I’m proud of you”, or even yell at them for making a decision justified only by being youthful.

The truth is, it’s those situations that bring tears to your eyes, the ones that are unsettling, that keep us in reality. All of my driving confidence was shot after their deaths, as I started coming home earlier for dinner to try and avoid the rush hours of traffic. It took vehicular manslaughter for me to wake up, along with everyone in my community. People rallied their support for these teens, in an attempt to bring justice to their names and prevent similar cases. Unfortunately, the same complacent manner of the past will set in once again, until another innocent life is taken and eyes are drawn open to watch tragedy work in spite. Driving is a never-ending cycle between being mindless, or being hyper-alert to one’s surroundings. I think this cycle is the steps that prevent total mindlessness, as draining as it sounds.

I have, thankfully, never been in a car accident. There was an incident, however, where I was driving to volleyball practice with a few of my teammates. One of the girls decided to open my windows on the highway, as it was pouring rain, unbuckle her seatbelt, and dangle out the side of my car. I sat there, navigating with one hand, and pulling her in with the other, while everyone in the backseat laughed. I rolled the windows up, locked them, and sat there astonished. I couldn’t fathom that she had the audacity to stick half of her body out of a moving vehicle as I drove 55 mph. Her recklessness scared me as I came to the realization that she was a liability when inside my car. I vowed never to drive with her again, because she had no context of the situation that she had enabled. It seemed that her actions would have no consequences, that she was untouchable. I think the asphalt that laid inches away from her unconstructed hair would have disagreed on that perspective.

There was another instance, after a basketball game, where the team was going out to eat. My boyfriend at the time decided to see who could get to the Five Guys location faster, and absolutely gassed it the second we left campus. I was legitimately holding onto the middle console to avoid flying upward in my seat, almost as if I had just dropped on Disney’s Tower of Terror. My face flushed and my stomach fluttered as the engine continued to rev, and he neglected to use his blinker when switching lanes in the dark provided by the January sky. The sad part was, we still lost the race. How fast was everyone else driving if we happened to be placed last?

Now personally, I’m not bending backwards out of anyone’s passenger side window, or racing my friends to an average establishment, no offense to Five Guys. I could, however, work on being hands free while I drive. I often switch from playlist to playlist, skipping songs or ads to listen to the same song that I’ve already heard four times in a row. Even the three seconds that I fumble for my chapstick or gum could be the difference between life and death. I need to be more present in my driving, preventing myself from wandering into a dream-like stance where suddenly I’m the main character in a coming-of-age film. I could try and wake up five minutes earlier, to avoid being irrational and emotional when I get stuck behind every school bus on Route 1. Ultimately, I need to rely on myself to be proactive against the possible situations that I could encounter on the road, and take accountability for my actions when I’m late for something. Instead of deflecting my current mindset onto the steering wheel, I could leave it in the trunk with my backpack and forget the worries of my day. If I’m driving with friends, I could offer to control the music, and help them to understand that whatever is on their phone can wait. I must add that I’m incredibly blessed to have the responsible friends and family that I do, seeing as they prioritize my safety and would never intentionally put me in an uncomfortable situation.

I wouldn’t consider myself an excellent driver, not by any expectations. But I try to remain attentive and considerate when I drive. I remember the power that I am holding, the power of taking lives, as I turn the key into the initiation. I turn off my phone notifications and press shuffle play on my playlist while my car emits exhaust, to combat the New England winter. I glance around at the end of my driveway before reversing, to make sure that the neighbor’s dog, Maggie, didn’t escape again. I look both ways at the stop sign, before I wave to the woman up the street who power walks in a matching sweat suit. I think of everyone but myself when I get behind that wheel, because they belong to someone else. They have a family to eat dinner with, and they have clients that rely on them. Their lives matter, and my potential recklessness will never be the reason that their seat at the table goes empty.