What your teenage driver needs to know before getting the car keys "Mom Can I Borrow the Car?" Dear Friend, These words, from your new teenage driver, are guaranteed to make your pulse race and your heart skip a beat. Your mind fills with the thought of overcrowded freeways, rush hour traffic, and rude, reckless, road raged motorists. Now, add your inexperienced driver and the fact that he or she thinks they are invincible. It's a frightening thought. What's a parent to do? There are approximately 12.6 million teenage drivers between the ages of 15 and 20 years old in the United States. As your teenage driver joins their ranks and zooms down the highway, can you sleep soundly knowing he or she has what it takes to stay out of harm's way, both on the expressway and in life?
The driving record for this teenage group makes it abundantly clear, there is more than technique required. I needed reasurance my sixteen year old son would prove a wise teen driver, capable of making the right choices once in the drivers seat. But, I did not want to have a one sided conversation that would turn into a lecture. So, one morning when neither of us had to rush off to school, football practice or a meeting we turned off the phone, sat down and made our selves comfortable. I had always thought I could put off this discussion until my son was much older...say 27 years old. I began to express my motherly concerns about him getting his driver's license: "Being a safe teenage driver means being aware of your surroundings, recognizing risks and avoiding potentially dangerous situations." "Getting a driver's license involves more than buckling up and driving sober." I was speaking faster by the minute and this was quickly beginning to sound like a lecture. "Your maturity and good judgment is critical to your survival." With tears streaming down my face, I confided how I feared for his safety, his very life for that matter. "Mom, take a breath. It will be OK. Do you remember when I first learned to ride my bicycle?" "Dad put on the training wheels, I strapped on my helmet and you explained the rules. You told me I could go to the right as far as the Swensens house. To the left I could go to the corner. But under no circumstances was I to cross the street." "I remember." "As I gained more experience you let me go farther and eventually allowed me to cross the street, after I looked both ways, of course." "What's your point?" "I'm getting to it." "Finally, Dad removed the training wheels." "Yes," I interrupted, "and you immediately fell down and got hurt." "Mom, I got up. Concentrate on the positive here. It's part of growing up. I can't do that, if you don't let me." "OK then, I'll get your helmet, elbow and shin pads and you can drive to the right as far as the Swensens house and to the left all the way to the corner." "Not funny..." Well, from that point on we had an incredable conversation. We listened, I mean we really listened to what each had to say and how we felt. This is the result of that conversation. A Parent's Nightmare For the teenager, getting a driver's license and receiving the keys to the car marks a rite of passage: freedom, independence, the road to adulthood. But, one of the most traumatic moments in any parents life is when his or her teenager earns the right to sit in the drivers seat. As we watch the car disappear around the corner, two emotions take over: the viseral one, "Please God, bring him/her back safely," and a philosophical one, "My baby has grown up." This moment is both an ending and a beginning. Our two points of view come together in The Teenager's Roadside Guide to Life: Preparing New Drivers for the Road Ahead. As we began to write this book we realized that a license to drive is a metaphor for growing up and accepting responsibility, exciting as well as sobering.
In The Teenager's Roadside Guide to Life you will discover:
4 Things Every "Driver" Should Keep in the First Aid Kit
You might think it's unusual that a book has two authors. Maybe more unusual that the two authors are a mother and her sixteen year old son (he's eighteen years old now). While this book is a first time effort it is not the first time my son and I have teamed up. We have served as Global Volunteers and taught conversational English to Italian students in Ostuni, Italy. We have built and repaired schools in Costa Rica, coached for Special Olympics and trained for the Vancouver Marathon to help raise funds for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society. Joe played varsity football in high school, belonged to the National Society of High School Scholars, is a People to People Student Ambassador, and traveled to Antarctica with a select group of student delegates in December, 2004. That trip completed a goal Joe set at age 7 to visit all seven continents before age 18. Joe is currently a freshman at the University of Arizona and on the football team. "Go Wildcats!" I have been a chef, tour-guide, teacher, nurse, housekeeper, chauffeur, personal trainer, event coordinator, and life coach...in other words...MOM.
driver before sending him/her out on the open road.
When young adults learn to become responsible, they can become more independant.
When they learn to make smart choices, parents can learn to let go.
But it's a process. It certainly doesn't happen overnight. It seems not that long ago that Joe took his first steps. Remember when your children first learned to walk? in 8 Short Chapters They stood up kind of wobbly on their little legs. We stood a few steps away, our arms stretched out towards them, "Come on, you can do it, come to Mommy," we encouraged. They started slowly and then took rapid little steps as they fell into our arms, grinning from ear to ear. "Yeah! You did it!" we praised. We backed up so they could do it again. They became more confident with each and every step they took, and their world changed forever. With their newfound mobility came curiosity, and every day was an adventure. We can all recall the morning the cabinets with the pots and pans were discovered. It was a source of entertainment for hours or until we could no longer stand the "music." In those days we kept our little ones safe by baby-proofing their world. We installed locks on cabinets containing cleaning supplies. We bought those little plastic plugs for electrical outlets. Breakables were packed and put away. We padded coffee tables and everything else that had sharp corners. We were our children's protectors. They trusted us to keep them safe, and we did. That was a time when most boo-boos could be healed with Band-Aids®, kisses, and hugs. Before you know it, they are walking all over the house, leaving toys everywhere. One of my son's favorite toys was an oversized plastic car with small pudgy people. He placed the boy in the driver's seat and arranged his passengers in the back. "Vrroom, Vrroom." He'd make that engine sound, and then off he went on his imaginary journey. As he got bigger, his cars and trucks got smaller. I once found fabric that had colorful roadways on it and glued it to cardboard, creating an instant city. "Vrroom, Vrroom." I could hear the sounds of a boy happily playing with cars in his room, where he was safe. He had lots of little vehicles, including a fire truck and an ambulance with a siren. I never liked the sound of the siren. We had just returned from a trip to the market. My son helped me carry in the groceries. He had become such a big boy. As I was putting things away I could see him make several trips from his room back to the car, each time carrying out another toy. A few minutes later, he asked if he could make lunch. He got out the bread, climbed up on the footstool, and made four peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. "You must be really hungry." "Mom, they're not all for me, they're for our trip." "What trip?" "Me and the guys. We're going to the park and I'm driving." I followed him outside to the car. There was JJ, his stuffed dog, in the front seat. Michelangelo, Leonardo, Donatelo, and Rafael--his Ninja Turtles--were in the back. He climbed into the driver's seat and grabbed the steering wheel. I adjusted the seat as far forward as it could go. He couldn't even see over the dash, and his feet didn't reach the pedals, but he didn't seem to mind. He had a big grin on his face as he waved goodbye and said, "Don't worry, Mom, I'll be OK." I went back into the house and watched through the window. He sat in the car in the driveway, and he was safe. If they could just stay little a little longer.... Never Left the Driveway He is still in the driveway. This time the seat is adjusted as far back as it can go. At 6'1" he needs all the legroom he can get. The radio is so loud the car is vibrating, even before he turns on the ignition. Vrroom, vrroom. There is that familiar sound again. Only this time it's real. I see the car back out of the dirveway, and then race forward. I hear the breaks squeal. With only his permit, he can't be on the road without a licensed driver, and he wants to drive every chance he gets, even if it's only in the driveway. Back and forth, back and forth. "Time to come in," I yell out the window. Of course he doesn't hear me over the music. I go out to the car and in my loudest voice,"DINNER IS READY!" just as the song ends. "Gee, Mom,you don't have to yell." If you enjoy amusement park rides, you will love teaching your teenager to drive a stick shift. I'm not talking about the little teacups or the merry-go-round types, more like the kind that toss you
from side to side in a jerking motion. The ones with the health warning before you climb in. You,
know, do not go on this ride if: you suffer from back pain, have a heart condition, high blood
pressure, or get frightened easily.
It is best to practice in a wide-open area, free of other moving vehicles, free of any vehicles for that matter. A church parking lot when there were no services scheduled was our choice.
My teenage son and I switch seats and I explain about the clutch and the RPM's, and how the gears are arranged in the figure H. "I know Mom," he says impatiently. "It shows it right here on the gearshift knob." "Let's just start out slowly. When you want to change gears, push in the clutch when you shift." I barely finish my sentence when he steps on the accelerator, revs the engine to a million RPM’s, and pops the clutch. The car lurches forward, bounces, and stalls. "OK this is going well, let's try it again. Just give it a little less gas and ease out the clutch so it won't stall." I brace myself. He turns on the ignition, steps on the clutch and floors it. If he pops the clutch now I won't have to worry about him hitting that parked car because we will surely catapult right over it. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING, TRYING TO GET US KILLED?" "You said give it less gas." "Let's just try it again." After many take-offs and landings, we decide to call it quits for the day. "I think you did a good job." I try to sound encouraging. "You are very talented. I have never known anyone who can stop the car 27 times without ever touching the brakes. So what did you think of your first lesson?" I asked. "I think Dad should teach me, no offense." "None taken." a Parent's Nighmare Today is a teenager's dream, and a parents nightmare; the day of the driver's test. They have had their driving permit for six months, can back the car out of the driveway, and listen to the radio at
the same time.
They are capable of changing lanes, but still drive too fast. They practice every chance they get, and we have the gray hairs to prove it.
Every time they get in the driver seat, they have a huge grin on their face, just like when they were learning to walk. The only difference is now if we stood out in front to encourage them, we just might get run over.
They are sixteen and this is no baby step, this is huge.
It is so much more than driving the car. It is about freedom. Freedom to go where they want, when they want, without their parents.
It is a rite of passage to becoming an adult. Their world just got bigger.
In few other countries is driving a car so important. That's it. Maybe we should move to China where bicycles are the mode of transportation. There are many parts of the world where mothers send their sons off on llamas or camels, but they have other worries I'm sure. A tiny part of me hopes he won't pass, and I can keep him safe just a little longer. If you've got a new teenage driver in the house, chances are you've "got milk," and bread, and cereal, and whatever other items you might need on a moment's notice.
Never before has your teenager been so eager to run errands for you. Need a prescription filled? Not a problem. The clothes at the cleaners need to be picked up? Consider it done. They have car
keys in hand and are out the door in a flash.
And the sibling they couldn't stand to be near before they got their driver's license is now their new best friend. They will cheerfully chauffer them to and from school, soccer practice, and just about anywhere, if it means they can drive the car.
It's not that we think our sons and daughters are bad drivers, because after all, we taught them.
I have never prayed so much as when my son gets behind the wheel of a car. I cannot be with him
all the time now (nor does he want me to be), so I'm letting God ride in the passenger seat.
Handing over the car keys with all of its implications is not an easy thing to do. Ahead of our children stretches their future like a road leading into the distance. Along that road they will need to make choices.
Our purpose in sharing this book is to prepare teenage drivers for the real world and to help young adults make smart choices.
The Teenagers Roadside Guide to Life is meant to foster discussion between parents and their new teenage drivers so they can handle any curves that come their way--in Life or on the Road.
P.S. Which ever path your sons and daughters choose, may they always, always return home safely. And may God bless them on their journey.
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