Driving Forwards

They say teen drivers are reckless. That we’re distracted, glued to our phones, and overconfident behind the wheel. But I don’t think it’s about being reckless. I think it’s about being overwhelmed, by the world around us, the pressure to grow up fast, and the fact that nobody really teaches us how heavy the responsibility of driving can feel until we’re already out there with keys in hand and a friend in the passenger seat.

Teen driver safety isn’t just about avoiding a crash. It’s about protecting the people we’re becoming. It’s about learning how to be accountable for more than just ourselves, because the moment you start a car, you hold lives in your hands, yours, your friends’, and everyone else’s on the road. That’s a public issue, not a private one. Teen crashes don’t just affect the person driving; they ripple out to families, schools, communities. One second of looking down at a screen or one bad choice to race a red light can alter an entire lifetime. And too many people my age have already learned that the hard way.

That’s why driver’s education matters more than it ever has. But I don’t just mean the basic stuff about turn signals or parking between the lines. I mean real, honest education about risk. About pressure. About fear. I think schools should stop pretending that driving is just a skill and start teaching it as a responsibility, a mindset. A mental shift from “I have a car now” to “I have to protect every life around me.” Because knowing how to drive is one thing. Knowing how to be safe when you’re stressed, tired, upset, or showing off for someone in the backseat? That takes guidance, reflection, and conversations we’re not always having.

And there’s no denying that we face challenges as teen drivers. Distractions are everywhere, phones, music, notifications lighting up our screens. Even when we’re not reaching for the phone, our minds are scattered. Social media doesn’t stop when we start the engine. Then there’s peer pressure. The unspoken dare to take that sharp turn faster, the laugh from a friend when you brake too hard. It’s easy to feel like nothing can touch you, like you’re invincible when the music is loud and your friends are cheering you on. But the truth is, we’re new to this. Inexperience is real, and even if we’re smart or cautious, we haven’t lived enough behind the wheel to know how fast things can fall apart.

I remember this one night when a friend offered me a ride home after rehearsal. She had just gotten her license a month before. Her confidence was fresh, but so was her license plate. As we drove, she got caught up in the music and the moment. She missed a stop sign,not by a lot, but enough that a car on the cross street slammed its brakes and honked long and hard. I remember how silent the car got afterward. We both realized, in that second, how easy it is to forget that driving isn’t a vibe, it’s a responsibility. She dropped me off a little quieter than usual, and I thanked her like I always do. But I couldn’t stop thinking: it only takes one miss, one minute, one misstep. That’s all.

So how do we fix this? It’s not just about rules, it’s about culture. Teens, schools, and communities need to create a space where safety isn’t lame. Where speaking up as a passenger isn’t “killing the mood” but is respected as being mature. Schools can hold peer-led workshops where real teens talk about real mistakes, not to scare us, but to help us learn from each other. Communities can make safe driving visible: campaigns led by students, billboards that feature teen voices, rewards for safe driving behavior. Apps that track and gamify safe driving could be promoted in schools, making caution something we’re proud of, not embarrassed by.

And as for us teen drivers, we need to know when to say no. No to rushing. No to answering that text. No to letting someone else in the car make us forget what we’re doing. It’s okay to pull over. It’s okay to tell someone to quiet down, being in control doesn’t make you controlling. It makes you responsible. I believe in a better tomorrow. But it starts with how we act today. How we choose to show up, even in small things like driving. I want to be someone’s tomorrow. And that means staying alive long enough to make it there. Driving isn’t just about movement. It’s about choices. And when we take that seriously, we don’t just become better drivers, we become better people.