Something serious
Recently, I was in a car crash for the first time. I was driving a full car, with one of my friends seated in the back middle, a German exchange student in the back left, an Argentinian exchange student in the back right, and an underclassman riding shotgun as I drove us to the international film festival for a school event. I was chatting with the others, talking about growing up in America, listening to rock and roll music, and enjoying stories about the exchange students’ experiences in the U.S. As we were talking, we approached a two-way stop sign, and I braked. I looked left, then right, then left again, and took my foot off the brake and accelerated forward. I peered ahead to see if the parking ramp was in sight, as it was my first time driving in the area, and I get lost easily, when I heard something. I turned my head to the right, and met the eyes of a bearded man driving a white Honda. I swerved to the right, him to the left; he clipped my car. I thought it was over, but then the car behind him made contact with the passenger side of my car.
I could have sworn my heart stopped. I had never been in a car crash before, and I didn’t know what to do. My greatest worry was that someone was injured. After checking my passengers and making sure they were unharmed, I got out of my crunched car and went to check on the other vehicles’ occupants. The man driving the Honda was fine. The woman driving the Toyota was fine. Her seven year old daughter was fine.
I had been so scared at the fact that I almost hurt so many people that I was on the edge of bursting into tears. I was ashamed and angry and terrified.
The worst thing was that I wasn’t even considered “distracted” in the way most people think of distracted driving. I wasn’t on my phone; I wasn’t fiddling with the radio. I was just chatting and listening to my classmates; I was looking for the parking garage. I had looked both ways.
And yet I missed the “one way” sign. I looked left twice, but traffic was coming only from the right.
I can not begin to imagine how people can eat or drink or text or play with their phones while driving, because I was clearly unable to handle a conversation and searching for a parking place at the same time.
The first few days after the accident were horrible. I had recurring nightmares about the incident, each one getting worse.
Distracted driving comes in many forms, and not all of them are so obvious. I learned this the hard way. I let myself get too caught up in conversation, and I could have gotten someone killed from my mistake. I’m a lot more hesitant while driving now. I keep a close eye on the road, make sure I can read the road signs, double check the lanes before merging, and always checking intersections.
I haven’t hurt anyone yet, and I hope to never do so due to my own negligence. I try my best to drive responsibly, but it is a work in progress, one that is never finished as new situations arise. But I can’t do it alone. Even if I am a proactive driver, other people may be distracted, and that is where awareness comes into play. If we all just set the phone aside, or keep music on the radio to one channel instead of flipping through them haphazardly, we can prevent more accidents, especially deadly ones.
