that could have been me

I remember where I was when I heard- it was mid-November, I was freshly thirteen years old, 7th grade. There was a car accident off Hughes Road, a two-lane stretch with one elementary, one middle, and two high schools: the center of my small town. I was sitting two streets down in the front row soprano section of my after-school choir rehearsal, practicing for the upcoming Christmas concert. A 14-year-old girl died in a car accident in front of Discovery Middle School, the car ran into a ditch and she drowned in 3 feet of water. Her dad was taking her home from track practice and lost control of the car on the road leading out of the middle school. She hadn’t buckled her seat belt yet. The whole room silenced and a chill ran through our bodies: that could have been me.

As a current driver, this fear echoes louder than ever before. I feel blessed that my parents properly educated me about driving. My dad began the day I turned 15, walking me through every lever, button, and setting controlling our 2007 Nissan Quest Mini-Van. We started by learning how to maneuver our driveway, then graduated to carefully cruising our neighborhood on quiet Sunday afternoons, and later busy Saturday evenings. My dad taught me with the love and care of someone who knew the dangers my new license would unlock. My driving instructor did not. In the state of Alabama, there is a program for students taking High School Drivers Ed, if they pass the class, they are awarded a certificate that replaces the written and driving test. Students present the certificate to the DMV and they are immediately awarded their license. This sounds great: no long DMV waits, less pressure for kids with test anxiety, and a comprehensive learning experience. But sadly, that is not the reality. There are too many kids, too few instructors, and not enough time. I took an online driving course with no proctored tests or in-person instruction. I had friends that breezed through it with three hours of googling and mindless work. When I arrived at my only in-person test, the driving portion, the instructor asked me if I had driven before, and I truthfully responded yes, my dad and I drove to Nashville last week. He took my word for it and asked me to drive fifteen minutes around my small city, with no highways or no dark roads. The only instruction I got was how to three-point turn.

Around the country, there should be a nationwide minimum requirement for a comprehensive, regulated driver’s course, controlled by the U.S Department of Transportation. The correlation between drivers’ education requirements and the number of Car-Related deaths per state is astounding. The State with the most Motor-Vehicle accidents is Mississippi, with 28.4 deaths per 100,000 in 2020; Mississippi drivers can get their learning permit at fourteen and license at 16 with proof of a driver’s education course. However in Louisiana, a state very similar to Mississippi, there are only 18 deaths per 100,000. Why is that? Louisiana students are required to complete a 30-hour of driver’s course in addition to 8 monitored driving hours (Injury Facts). There are no nationwide courses or requirements standardized and regulated by the U.S. Department of Transportation. The DOT’s website contains a plethora of invaluable statistics and information on driving, pedestrians, and public transportation, however, all driver’s license regulations are left to the state level. I recognize it is unfeasible to petition for a federal agency to begin mandating and regulating all driver’s education requirements, but perhaps they can provide states with stricter courses and suggestions. Similar to the CDC’s health guidelines, the DOT’s suggestions would not be mandates, but they would provide sturdy, researched standards and techniques for states to consider when designing their driver’s education requirements.

I must admit while researching this topic, memories of my own “almost” crashes and my own risky driving began to appall me. I remembered this week when I woke up thirty minutes late and drove 10 over the get to school on time, or when I rushed from school to work eating my dinner of fries and messy ketchup, and when I quickly opened my phone and responded to my friend’s text about our plans for tomorrow. I knew these activities are dangerous, and they could have waited. My text was not urgent, my hunger was not life-threatening, and one tardy will not hurt me. I know I am endangering myself and others, but we all think it will never happen to us. This essay reminded me that could have been me. That could have been my brother coming home from track practice. That could have been my mom, my friends, my loved ones who were hit by a distracted driver. That could have been me, but it doesn’t have to be. I can hold myself accountable. And I will. Phone off, Speed Checked, and Mind focused. I will not be the reason someone has to bury their daughter.