New York City teens may be well-versed in street smarts and maturity. After all, by the time many graduate high school, they can navigate the underground realms of the city, have worked alongside professionals in an urban metropolis, know how to avoid crazy people on the streets, and have spent four years commuting just for school. Yes, city kids seem to have it all with their unique experiences. At my college, you can easily pick out the New Yorkers because they tend to walk just a few miles per hour faster than the rest of the student body. You can also identify the New Yorkers because they are usually the ones who don’t know how to drive.
The one area where city teens tend to be behind other young people their age is in the field of driving. The driving age in New York City is a bit older than in other states. Big Apple teens must wait until 16 to even qualify for their driver’s permit, but their counterparts in 15 other states can already test for their license. Even then, amateur drivers are still barred from the street due to junior permit restrictions such as not being allowed to drive past 9 pm. To be fair, many states that have a lower driving age tend to be in the mid-West, where driving is a necessity in order to make it to the supermarket, school, or civilization. On the other hand, driving isn’t really imperative in a metropolis, where the subway tends to be more reliable than traversing the grid by car and combating city traffic. Not to mention, where are you going to park?
Nevertheless, with city teens heading off for college in all parts of the country, driving becomes more important on a case-by-case basis. My school is located in the Berkshires, where the number of cows trumps the local non-student population. The nearest supermarket is a five-minute drive away, but a 40-minute walk on foot (believe me, I’ve tried walking there once and back — big mistake, especially with two bags of groceries!). Driving, especially in more isolated areas, gives you so much more freedom. Public transportation, if it exists, can be a bit out of way and buses do not run as frequently as city subways and trains. Thus, being able to drive allows you to run on your own time, rather than around a bus schedule. You really start to appreciate the subway, despite all of its annoying rerouting and delays.
The practicality of driving at school finally convinced me to learn how to drive. The first step was to obtain a driver’s permit from the Department of Motor Vehicles. In order to do so, I had to take a written exam of 20 questions. The exam is not meant to be difficult, but the information was “foreign” for a first-time driver, such as myself. To prepare for this exam, I quickly read through the driver’s manual. The information the state deems as crucial for drivers to know seemed not all too relevant to a New York City driver. Really, is it that important to know when the most deer collisions occur, when you are bound to encounter more jaywalkers than wildlife?
I have heard horror stories about the D.M.V. and the amount of time it takes just to get your license. Long story short, while it took me roughly five minutes to complete the written exam, I spent two hours waiting to get my information processed. Come on, do you really need so many different people to administer the test, take my photo, process my information, and collect my payment? My experience was less than pleasant, but it was a necessary evil for me to get my permit and finally get behind the wheel.
Unfortunately, my zeal to race down the street in our family car did not match my innate ability to control a two-ton vehicle. My first time behind the wheel was terrifying. Even though I was in a large parking lot with plenty of room to practice driving straight and turning, I was worried about causing an accident on my first day. To make matters worse, it seemed like the entire neighborhood was learning how to drive in that same parking lot: fathers and daughters, teachers and students, and even husbands and wives. Four layman drivers plus one parking lot equals not a good mix!
Maneuvering the steering wheel just to stay on the road was no easy feat. Judging space was another difficulty, especially while parallel parking, which became more of a guessing game of moving the car back and forth and back and forth and praying to get it right eventually. My poor father could not understand why my coordination skills were so poor, and regardless of all his patience, he wound up with a few extra gray hairs.
My first lesson made me quite aware that driving is a skill that will take time. The learning curve for me is pretty extreme, but then again, I probably should have guessed that from my less-than-stellar performance on driving video games like Mario Kart. Nevertheless, my dad’s patience and encouragements have turned our driving lessons into a special father-daughter bonding time. Like any new skill, driving follows the age-old mantra, “Practice makes perfect.” Since then, I have gotten slightly better and have become a bit more confident, stepping on the gas a little bit more. However, if you happen to see me on the road, please don’t honk at me!
Aglaia Ho is a sophomore at Williams College and a native New Yorker. She also writes for her own blog at www.aglaiaho.weebly.com.
