Tiny Threads of Fear

I was terrified of driving when I first got my permit. I would sit in the driver’s seat, with my mom beside me, and refuse to start the car. Turning to her, I would beg her just to drive us home and let me stay forever scared. She would shake her head and tell me that I was only afraid because I hadn’t driven that much. I swore to her that she was wrong; I was scared because I was driving a giant piece of metal at fifty miles per hour.

Eventually, my mom gave up. She realized it was useless trying to teach me to drive herself. I was too scared, and she was too easily manipulated out of making me drive by my whining. My parents decided to get me a driver ED teacher. After school, I would pile into the front seat of his car and be forced to stuff down my fear. He told me all the little ins and outs of driving that my parents didn’t know. Slowly, my nerves began to shrink at his hands. I became more confident with driving, but I was still annoyingly cautious about every little thing.

A few months later, I would go on to get my license, which my parents had assumed was never ever going to happen. With my temporary paper license resting in the passenger’s seat, I sat alone in the driver’s seat for the first time. My mom wanted something from the store; I could finally go get that thing. I put the car in drive, calmed my nerves, and pulled off. In extreme caution, I drove to Kroger, the grocery closest to my house. At every stop light, I exhaled a sense of relief. Driving was serious; I recognized that.

After driving for months, I have noticed that it has slowly become less scary, just as my mom told me. However, that is when driving becomes exponentially more dangerous. Even if we deny it, a tiny thread of fear is tangled within our bodies when we all first get that license. This act is life or death, and we recognize that. Through repetition, it becomes less meaningful. We all pile into our cars daily, turn on the engine, and drive away while we zone out and listen to music. We forget what we are doing. We forget how dangerous it can be. We forget what made us so scared in the first place.

Driver education alters this slow process of becoming less afraid and makes you retain why you were scared. When I forget how important the act of driving is, I’m reminded of what I learned before I was ever handed my license. I remember all he told me about phones and about not focusing. His words remain etched within my brain when I try to forget the truth about driving. People in my class discuss how easy and straightforward driving is; however, that was not how I was taught. I was taught to be cautious. I was taught always to be alert. I was taught to remind myself of the importance of what I was doing. One mistake could end my life or another’s.

We all hear stories of people forgetting the dangers of driving and when it results in heartache. A few years ago, my mom was the reminder. She was sitting at a red light with two cars ahead and behind her. A vehicle came barrling in from behind her. They were going way too fast, they were on their phone, and they were under the influence. Everything that they were taught, they ignored. They ignored the fear they once had and allowed themselves to become numb. The car slammed into the second car behind my mom, which prompted a chain reaction. That car hit the next, the next hit my mom, my mom was pushed into the car in front of her, and finally, that car was shoved into the car that rested underneath the light. This would not have happened if they chose to remember what we were told over and over again when we were first handed their license. Suppose they decided to hold onto that fear…

Driving is a dangerous act, but in our minds, we allow it to become ordinary. We must hold onto the fear we possessed as new drivers who were so excited to be bestowed with the honor of driving. We need to drive as if they were in the driver’s seat.