No More Distractions!

As soon as I turned sixteen, I rushed to the DMV and got my permit. I breezed through the questions on traffic laws, road signs, and safe driving practices. "Driver distraction is responsible for roughly what percentage of police-reported crashes?" 25 to 30 percent. Easy. "Teenage drivers are more likely to be involved in a crash when..." Driving with teenage passengers. Boom. I passed with the test ending early.

I knew the rules of the road like the back of my hand. My dad, who has sold cars for a living my whole life, took me to empty parking lots and quiet parks to practice. He drove so smoothly and confidently, sometimes even steering with his knee, that I thought it was cool. He taught me to keep both hands on the wheel at all times, even though he rarely followed that rule himself. After a week of practicing, I passed my license test on the first try.

Driver education had done its job on paper. I could recite every rule. What it hadn't done was change how I actually drove.

My school was forty minutes away, so I was on the road early every morning and again during heavy traffic every evening. My music needed to be perfect, so I scrolled through playlists mid-drive. I texted at red lights and told myself that made it safe. My friends piled into my car  fighting over the aux, yelling for me to turn around, and throwing things at me all while I yelled back. I ate while driving, did my makeup, dug through the back seat for things I'd forgotten. The list is embarrassing. Underneath all of it was one belief: nothing bad would happen to me, because I was a good driver.

Then my dad got into an accident. The one person whose driving I admired most, the one who could name the make, model, and year of any car on the road, was on his phone. It doesn't matter how skilled you are — unless you have all-seeing powers, you cannot anticipate every vehicle, obstacle, and person without your full attention. It took watching that happen to someone I love for the lesson to actually land. Knowing the rules had never been my problem. I had simply believed they were for other people.

That's the gap driver education can't close on its own. It gives you the facts, the statistics, the laws, the "why" behind seatbelts and following distances, but facts don't override the feeling of invincibility that comes with being sixteen and confident behind the wheel. Education starts the habit; it takes a real jolt, or a real decision, to finish it. For me, that jolt was watching my dad's accident. I don't think every driver needs to wait for their own version of that moment, which is why I now believe driver ed programs are strongest when they pair the rules with real consequences like crash testimonials, restorative conversations or anything that makes the statistics feel personal before a person has to learn them the hard way.

So I changed. I turned on Do Not Disturb while driving. I choose my music before I put the car in drive, never at a red light or on the highway. If I miss a turn, I pull over instead of fumbling with directions while moving. I stopped eating in the car unless I'm parked, and makeup happens at home, engine off.

The friends situation took an honest conversation. I told them straight up: when you're in my car, help me drive, don't distract me. Someone else controls the aux, someone else reads the GPS aloud, nobody throws anything at the driver. Saying it out loud changed the energy in the car and now they listen, partly because they know I'm serious, and partly because they don't want to walk.

When I'm a passenger and notice someone driving distracted, I say something, not in a lecture type of way but just "hey want me to text them back for you?" or "I'll change the song for you." Most people aren't trying to be reckless; they're just used to it. Normalizing that small handoff is one of the most practical things any young driver can do for the people around them.

I passed every driving test on the first try. I knew exactly what a distracted driver looked like, and I became one anyway. My dad, who taught me to drive, made the same mistake. If it can happen to him, it can happen to anyone. Distracted driving doesn't care how long you've had your license or how confident you feel. It only takes one second, which is exactly why reducing driving deaths takes more than a written test. It takes education that sticks, habits that are actually practiced, and a willingness to hold the people in your car, and yourself, accountable.

Now when I drive, the phone stays down, the playlist is set before I pull off, and whatever can wait, waits. I no longer think only about myself behind the wheel. I think about everyone else on the road too and that responsibility requires my full attention. That's a habit worth keeping.