Learning the Road with a Few Close Calls

Parents: Are you ready to see your life flash right before your eyes?  Well, get ready to because your teenager is driving…

After getting my permit, my parents would not let me drive. Yes, I was 16, plus two months, but no, they were not ready for the terror of having me drive.

The first day I was “allowed” to drive, my parents made sure that I was educated on how the car works, how to work the turn signals, turn the car on, work the windshield wipers, etc.  Yeah, yeah. I already knew all of that and at that time, I thought that I was ready to drive, get out on the road, but it turned out I knew less than what I thought.

When we left my house in our silver Sequoia, my family was clutching on their armrests like they were trying to get to the last life boat on the Titanic. With my mom sitting next to me, my step-dad and two sisters sitting in the back, I heard criticism coming from everywhere how I was or should be driving.

“Jordann, slow down!”
“Jordann, start braking earlier!”

With no radio to help drown out the sounds of their negative voices, I was forced to hear the bickering about my hard braking or my speeding problem, that still hasn’t been cured. But anyways.

I may have had my license for almost 2 years, but I still am learning.

When my parents had enough of the stress through my reckless driving, they called in the big guns. The driving instructor. When I started working with him, he would tell me a few of the errors that occurred during my driving, such as my speed. But, by the way, he thought I was a good driver. He must have because he didn’t criticize every wrong move I made while driving.

When my six months were over and July 23, 2009 came around, my nerves were getting the best of me. While driving to take my test, I almost gave my mom a heart attack while I tried to beat a car to a turn, when they had the right of way. With the lady’s horn beeping at me and “b*&%$” coming out of her mouth, my mom said that she totally agreed with her.

After meeting up with my grandparents (I was using their Corolla for the test), I walked into the DMV, so nervous my hands were sweating. When my name was called and I walked out to enter the car, the reality hit me. It was time, time for me to pass my driving test, get my license and have a new responsibility in my life.

When the driving prompter finally came and got into the car, I felt confident, I was ready to go. When I went up to the parallel parking area, I was positive that I would ace it, since I was just there practicing in the Corolla the night before. I backed in and fixed my position and was told to go on. Awesome, I’m half-way to my license.

As I took off for the driving part, my heart was beating. All that was going through my head was “don’t speed, make sure you stop for three seconds at the stop signs.” I pulled into the parking lot and parked my car. Before he got out, he told me “you passed.”

I still sometimes wonder how I passed. I still have the speeding problem, I still ride people’s tails, but I have definitely grown up since that day. Yes, I still have my driving problems, such as wrecking my car, a powder-blue Toyota Prius, racing a friend and a few close calls where I almost got hit by pulling out in front of someone, and all the other times I almost got hit, but, hey, who doesn’t have some driving issues. So, it can’t be only me.

By Jordann Stekervetz