The Roads We Take & The Choices We Make.

When my father was a young adult, he made the choice to go driving in his friend’s car late at night—a choice that many teenagers make to have some fun. When he tells this story, it’s with a fond but sad smile. A reminicents of the foolishness of youth. It’s likely that if the events of that night had never taken place, he wouldn’t have been so firm when teaching me to drive. His fear that I might die in a car, and his distrust of my young driving friends, would not be as intense. But, as he often tells me, “You make choices; you have to live with the consequences.”

That night, my father and his friends went out and partied, engaging in typical young person antics. However, living in a small town in southern California wasn’t conducive to safe fun, leading them to the car. The specific type of car escapes his story—details that are less important than the life lesson his narrative holds.

He and his friends drove through the dirt roads on the edge of town, along asphalt, and onto the highway. They drove faster than they should have. Didn’t pay as much attention as they should have. The subsequent car accident totaled the car and left my father hospitalized. He suffered brain damage and broke numerous bones. The truth about that accident is that he almost didn’t survive. When he tells the story, he jokes that even doctors didn’t understand how he got better. How he survived. He has his own beliefs about why and how he made it out of that car accident mostly whole, but the core of this story remains unchanged. No matter how many jokes he might make about the night.

Driving can kill. It does kill. Every day, every minute, in every city. Cars kill indiscriminately. They kill the elderly, office workers, college students, teenagers, children, infants. Cars kill by malfunctioning—sometimes the brakes seize up, and other times they don’t work at all. Cars kill by crashing into each other, into objects, or just off the road. All this to say that accidents happen, and sometimes they are accidents. Sometimes they’re small scraps against someone’s bumper as you’re pulling into a parking spot. But sometimes, even if it was an accident, the ramifications don’t change. Every time you drive, you could kill yourself or others, and just because it’s never happened doesn’t mean it never will.

Cars are dangerous, and you have to know that before getting behind the wheel. It was the first lesson my father taught me—before he even let me put the keys in the ignition or explained which pedal was the brake and which was the gas. He told me, “Cars kill. You have to have your head in the game and pay attention.” Maybe it was the way he said it, with no room for argument that scared me. It made me question if I was ready, if I would ever be ready, if I could get behind the wheel. He reminded me what we often forget, driving is a huge deal.

At this point I’ve heard the story about his accident enough times that I feel I understand. I know the risks of being in a car; that’s why I pay for some of the best insurance available. But the reality is that I can never really know because I’ve never experienced it, and no one ever should. People should never know the pain or loss that comes with a car crash. With the loss of life, limbs, or a person to something so ingrained in everyday life that people take it for granted.

Being able to drive is a privilege, one you have to earn by being taught and proving you know and can follow the rules. But it’s also a responsibility—the weight of knowing that what you are doing is dangerous, and you are holding people’s lives in your hands. The only way to limit the number of accidents and deaths is by teaching; teaching the rules of the road and teaching how to drive in any conditions. Acknowledging that even if you’ve been driving for what feels like forever, you need to drive with the same amount of awareness as when you first got behind the wheel. You have to put in the same effort and attention because it’s not just a car; it’s your life. It’s the life of another person, and ignoring that text from your best friend can be the difference between seeing them in an hour and costing both you and a stranger your futures. Cars are dangerous; I’ve heard the stories, so has everyone, so pay attention and drive with care.