Reflective Essay: The Importance Of Learning To Drive

Growing up, I always understood the importance of learning how to drive. As the ultimate rite of passage, it creates a large distinction between being dependent and independent. A person who learns to drive no longer needs to hassle his parents in order to travel even a mile. My anticipation of reaching this new milestone was strong, and I intensely longed for the day that I would earn my license. Yet little did I know, the process would be absolute hell. I have a condition known as developmental coordination disorder, or DCD. It is a neurological disorder beginning at birth, which occasionally hinders my brain from sending accurate messages telling my limbs where to move. Thus, my hand-eye coordination is extraordinarily poor. It is difficult to throw a ball, catch a ball, or attempt strenuous exercise at the risk of injury, and God forbid I try to handwrite a letter. How could I possibly learn to drive? When I began my driving lessons, this reality swiftly shattered any measure of hope I had. Upon accelerating for the first time, I immediately lost control of the steering wheel and impacted the sidewalk. The instructor did not yell and scream as I had expected him to. However, the disappointment in his face was clear. The experience would be indicative of my performance in countless future driving lessons. One month

I stopped at every stop sign, looked before entering every intersection, and changed lanes flawlessly. As the test neared conclusion, the examiner told me to parallel park. “No problem”, I said to myself. “Just remember what you did yesterday”. I angled myself, slowly pulled in, and then pulled up slowly to fill the gap between myself and the car in front of me. “Ok. I’m finished”, I said to the examiner. He stared at me blankly, perhaps believing I had forgotten a step. He then opened the passenger door, pointed at the grass and said “You’re too far away from the curb.” I failed,