the Driver’s Seat: Choosing Responsibility Every Time I Drive

In the Driver’s Seat: Choosing Responsibility Every Time I Drive

By Asia Chandler – Columbus State Community College

When I first started learning to drive, I thought being a good driver was simply about following the rules—using my turn signal, stopping at red lights, and staying under the speed limit. Over time, I realized it’s not just about control of the wheel—it’s about control of your judgment, emotions, and attention. “Impaired driving” isn’t limited to alcohol or drugs. It’s any moment when your mind or body isn’t fully present. To me, impaired driving means allowing distractions, stress, fatigue, or substances to take away the focus every driver owes to the lives around them. It’s a reminder that even a small lapse in awareness can lead to consequences that can’t be undone.

Many people think impairment only happens to “other” drivers—the ones drinking or texting. But the truth is, even experienced drivers can misunderstand what impairment looks like. I’ve heard people say, “I’m fine, I only had one drink,” or “I can text real quick, it’s just a red light.” Those small justifications come from overconfidence and lack of awareness about how quickly reaction times drop. Driver’s education often teaches the laws about impairment, but not always the lived consequences. Until it becomes personal, many people don’t take it seriously.

The most common forms of impairment I see today are texting, fatigue, and emotional distraction. With our phones constantly buzzing, it’s tempting to glance down for a second. But one second at 55 mph means traveling the length of a football field without looking at the road. Fatigue is another silent danger—especially for people balancing work, school, and long commutes. When you’re tired, your body can mimic the same slow reaction times as being legally intoxicated. And emotional driving—anger, stress, sadness—can cloud judgment just as much as alcohol.

My wake-up call came a few years ago when a close family friend was hit by a distracted driver. She was stopped at a light when another car slammed into her from behind. The other driver admitted he was reading a text message. My friend walked away with minor injuries, but the accident left a deep impression on me. I saw the fear in her eyes and the damage that could have easily been fatal. Since then, I promised myself never to text behind the wheel, no matter how “urgent” a message feels. I started placing my phone in the glove box when I drive. That small change became one of the biggest safety decisions I’ve ever made.

Driver’s education programs have the power to prevent these kinds of tragedies. The best ones don’t just teach rules—they build empathy. When instructors share real-life crash stories, or show the ripple effect one bad decision can cause, it connects the lesson to the heart, not just the head. Courses that include simulation exercises, videos, and peer discussion help drivers truly feel the weight of responsibility. Learning how alcohol slows reflexes or how fatigue blurs focus makes it harder to say “it won’t happen to me.”

Traffic safety courses also help reframe driving as a community act, not a personal one. Every time we start the car, we take responsibility for our own life and the lives of strangers. That’s a powerful mindset shift. These programs encourage awareness, defensive driving, and proactive decision-making. They remind us that safety is not just about avoiding tickets—it’s about respecting the shared road we all depend on.

Personally, I believe prevention starts with example. My role in reducing impaired driving begins with the choices I make daily. I never drive if I’m overly tired, upset, or distracted. If I see a friend trying to drive after drinking, I speak up and offer to call a ride. If I’m a passenger and someone picks up their phone, I remind them to focus on the road. These might seem like small moments, but speaking up can save lives. It’s about changing the culture of silence—because too often, people stay quiet rather than risk “being annoying.” I’d rather risk that than risk someone’s life.

My training from driver’s education gave me more than a license—it gave me perspective. I learned how to scan my surroundings, manage blind spots, and anticipate the unexpected. But the biggest lesson was realizing that safety isn’t automatic. It’s an everyday decision. Every time I drive, I carry the awareness that one second of distraction could take away someone’s family member, friend, or future. That responsibility keeps me grounded.

As a college student and future professional, I plan to use my voice to encourage safer habits among my peers. Whether it’s sharing my friend’s story, reminding others not to text and drive, or organizing campus safety awareness campaigns, I know education is the first step toward prevention. We can’t erase the dangers of the road completely, but we can make conscious choices that protect ourselves and others.

In the driver’s seat, we all have a choice: to be careless or to be careful. Every safe decision, every moment of patience, and every act of awareness adds up to lives saved. For me, being “in the driver’s seat” means understanding that driving is a privilege, not a right—and with that privilege comes the power to protect, prevent, and preserve life.