I Choose to Drive Slow

Recently my mom was in an accident. She was fine, but scary
nonetheless. Four years ago two students at my school were killed
driving to class that morning. A few weeks ago I almost hit three
deer while driving my friend home. Nearly every day I encounter a
driver that almost hits me. I am so often reminded how close each of
us are to death each time we get behind that wheel.
My encounter with
those deer really did it for me. Believe it or not, my friend told me
he had this bad feeling driving that night, as if there would be a
wreck. I began driving slower, and had I not, I would have hit all
three deer. My car would be totaled, and who knows if one of them
would have went through the windshield right into us? How could I let
my friend die because I was a little impatient? So since then, I’ve
been driving more slowly, especially at night, because I understand
now how a few miles per hour can change the amount of time you have
to react and stop.
But what if we
are in a rush? My dad told me “If you’re late, that’s your
fault. Don’t make it anyone else’s problem.” Why should we risk
killing someone because we failed to leave on time?
Similarly, my
drivers ed teacher told us to never drive upset. Sad or angry, we
forget the outside world exists beyond our troubled thoughts. The
speed seems to magically increase until we’re in dangerous
territory. Our reaction times are slower because we aren’t paying
attention to the small details or thinking ahead to predict other
drivers' actions.
Perhaps these
ideas should be taught in a mandatory drivers ed. We are entrusted as
16 year olds to operate thousands of fast-moving pounds when we
aren’t even allowed out of our class without raising our hands? We
only get told driving is a luxury, not a responsibility. We should
rather emphasize that if we were the other driver, wouldn’t we want
us to driver safer?