My Driving Test

Life normally doesn’t go the way you plan when you’re young. When I was little, I figured that when I was at the age of graduation I would be totally prepared to go off my own. As I sit and think about the topic of how my life is going, several thoughts pour into my mind. First, I think of how lucky I am. The past two years could’ve changed my life because of bad health. Through weeks and months of hospitals stays and hours spent in the doctor’s office and in the emergency room, I’ve come out lucky and I have almost returned to good health. Second, I think of those friends who I thought would be there for my whole life that are no longer a part of my life. I also look to the people who I never thought would be there by my side and realize

I struggled so much when learning to drive, I didn’t think I would ever be able to get my license. Everytime I go out and drive something different would always go wrong. I would get too caught up in the freedom of driving and listening to the blaring music that I would forget something. When I first started I wouldn’t think it would ever be this hard because my parents make it look so easy. When I was fifteen I was learning how to drive, but I kept struggling with a couple different aspects of driving. Eventually after I kept practicing I was able to perfect the art of driving, and come closer to becoming an adult.

It is often considered a rite of passage when you become old enough to drive. A momentous trip to the Department of Motor Vehicles and you can now bask in all the glory that having a license allows. There is almost a countdown clock clicking away the time that must pass before you can make this a reality. A sleepless night is almost a guarantee on the night before you make that trek. I however, was an exception to this trend. Our family has been more mobile than most my entire life. Being on the road and on the move is something that is common place for me. Approximately every two years we move to a new place so my father can continue to serve in the military. It was during an eight day trek from California to Kansas that I realized that it is the winding roads and highways that connect our great country. The best way to see this country is clearly to travel on these roads is with a vehicle of some kind. Up until my senior year, my mother has been the primary driver for all my activities. Once we were settled in Kansas I realized it was time to get my license. My father decided to start looking for a vehicle for my brother and me to share. He spent his weekends scouring the ads. He stumbled upon a truck that looked too good to pass up. This was the starting point of my love hate relationship.

Most people remember the first time they got to sit behind the wheel of a car and the exhilarating feeling of control. The first time I drove came about in the final lap of the derby I raced in the summer before my freshman year of high school. The race took place in Daley Plaza in Chicago on a sunny Saturday afternoon. My team and I were filled with excitement and nerves as we prepared to begin the race. Everyone chose me to drive as our final driver, and the thought of potentially driving to secure our victory terrified me. Soon the race started and we were swept away in the first three crazy laps and the intense challenges. Finally, Aastha pulled up to our pit and scrambled out of the car to complete the challenge. I quickly threw on the

As I walked out of the courthouse and down the ramp, I looked at my mom in disappointment and embarrassment. Never wanting to return to that dreadful place, I slowly drug my feet back to the car. I wanted to curl up in a little ball and I didn 't want anyone else to know what I had done. Gaining my composure, I finally got into the car. I didn 't even want to hear what my mom had to say. My face was beat red and I was trying to hide my face in the palms of my hands because I knew what was about to come; she was going to start asking me questions, all of the questions I had been asking myself. Sure enough, after a short period of being in the

I sat there nervous , thinking this is it I have to do this ,It's now or never . I can feel the sweat coming down my forehead ,my hands also sweaty as I gripped the steering wheel.My shot at getting my drivers license was finally here . I can feel the driving instructor watch my every move . But let's go back a couple of weeks to the one day I decided I was ready to get behind the wheel . My 15th birthday , in my culture when a girl turns 15 they are coming into adult hood and there is a big celebration called Quinceañera. I was not to happy with the celebration all I really wished for was to have my own car . My parents on the other and it being tradition they didn't really ask for my opinion . After all what teenage girl didn't want to have

Brother, you’ve been my chauffeur, and a much needed one at that. When Mom made the both of us take an ACT class every Sunday, well I certainly wasn’t about to make the hour-long drive myself. In fact, I wouldn’t be doing any driving at all. You, on the other hand, would venture through varying weather conditions and mild road construction by the directions of my less-than-spectacular navigation attempts. But our ACT class adventures didn’t stop there. I remember driving the roundabout six, seven, eight times to avoid being even the slightest bit early to class. And after spending two hours trying to learn about standardized testing, we would go out Buffalo Wild Wings and joke about

She was patient; she did not push me to drive in areas that I was not comfortable to drive in. We drove around the residential neighborhood for so many times until I felt comfortable going out into the main streets. I was very bad at turning, at driving at the right speed, at stopping smoothly, at changing lanes, and everything else you could think of. My mother understood that; instead of trying to teach me every skill at once, she took the time to teach me one skill at a time. For example, we circled around a particular route for about ten times, just to let me practice turning left. It was an incredibly slow process, but it was what was needed to let me build some confidence in my driving

I gripped the steering wheel so tight that my knuckles turned white, hoping I wouldn’t hit another car or do something equally stupid. Then came the elation of being told I had passed, getting my driver’s license after months of work. My mom and I stopped at a coffee shop on the way home to celebrate, coffee and delicious donuts to go

How I think my culture affected my results of my Keirsey assessment test. To start this off when I took the test, I took the online sorter two version. My results were that I was an idealist. An Idealist is a person that is passionately concerned with personal growth and development, self-knowledge and self-improvement. An idealist is a person that is naturally attracted to working with people. But to break the idealist down even more my four letters are ENFP. Those letters represent and Idealist Champion.

As 16-year-old me drove down the highway to my Friday night dance rehearsal, my mother finally said those precious words I had been longing to hear: “I think you’re ready to take your driver’s test; remind me to schedule it after this weekend.” I was giddy with excitement, entirely unaware of what was destined for me that fateful weekend.

I often get asked why I don’t drive and my simple response to those who ask is simply that I have no interest, which isn’t necessarily true. The real reason I cower away from what I consider to be a huge responsibility of driving is because I have witnessed firsthand the crippling effects cars can have on the fragile human life. In February of my senior on a day that I had just happened to be home from school I received a text from an unusual number it was my best friend’s brother who had texted me to inform me that his sister, a girl who was at my house five times a week, someone who was attached to my hip had been hit by a car. The text was simple and nonchalant which made me think it couldn’t have been too bad.

killed me. I had no appetite and I felt a tight knot in my stomach. I

I learned to drive sophomore year. My father taught me I also got my temporary Id and went to driving school. Learning how to drive was a major milestone for me sophomore year. Every weekend we would get up and go to a vacant lot and drive around and practice my cones. When I got my temporary Id I thought driving would be simple and easy which it was. During driving school I had to take in cards which was cool. But the instructors kept teaching me different driving styles and techniques. When I finally took my test I was nervous I thought I was going to fail miserably. When we got there my mom could tell I was nervous and give me advice. I failed both parts of my test and didn’t want to retake it anymore. My temporary id expired in a few months

That same summer, after my father got home from work a little early, he allowed me to ride the mow. Since the yard was already mowed the day before, I utilized this opportunity to practice my epic passion of becoming a NASCAR race car driver. My mother thought it was a little unusual that I aspired to the feeling of speed that is typically a dream that young boys have. Speed made me feel like I was the empress of the road and like I would arrive at my destination faster than anyone else, even though my destination lacked a beginning and end. The prior Christmas, I remember that my father purchased my sisters and I remote-controlled vehicles. Both of my sisters received a car each while I received a truck, a vehicle that can knock all other