Defensive Driving for Me
Walking in to what was going to be my fourth class of the day was leading me off to an early sleep. I stopped on the way at Starbucks so that my caramel macchiato might make me forget where I was and what I was doing there. It was 5:45 on a Wednesday afternoon and I was joining the rest of a group that didn’t want to be there. I expected this to be the case and this is why I chose to go there. Among all people who got traffic tickets that wanted them to get dismissed, I was the only person in that room who volunteered themselves to be lectured on driving for four hours.
The official title of the course was: Defensive Driving Course 4. I found out about the class because my roommate Henry had to attend one for a speeding ticket. I just tagged along with him hoping I would come across some interesting information because I have never gotten a traffic ticket and, as a result, had never had to attend a driving course.
Two coordinators of the class sat at a table where we walked in. They asked for our name and payment ($185 by money order) and gave each student a sheet of paper which they filled out with things such as their name, social security and license numbers, and handed everyone a course guide. I explained to them that I was there not because I had a driving offense, but because I was interested in knowing what the course offered. The woman coordinator shot me a confused look and explained to me that since the course costs money, unless I only stayed an hour or so, I would have to pay the $185 like everyone else. I told her that I would only stay for the first hour and would leave during the first break. She nodded her head and watched me as I took my seat in the back of the classroom.
First thing I did while everyone else was busy filling out their paper work was to make observations. We were in a small classroom. If I stood in the middle between the two rows of desks I would see five rows of four desks pushed together into one big, long table on my left, and four rows of two desks pushed together on my right. In front of me was a whiteboard with two diagrams of roads with little yellow and black blocks attached to the Velcro representing cars. To the right of the white board was a fuzzy TV with a VCR on the bottom and to the left of the white board was a large flipchart version of the course guide handed to us as we walked in. It was a standard classroom.
Seven people were in the room when I walked in. Each person sat in their own row of desks and no one looked at anyone else. It was like everyone but I was ashamed to be there. Four of the people looked like they were in their thirties and forties and all had families. There was one other college-aged student besides my roommate who had ignored the “no food or drinks” sign and was nursing her cup of coffee in the back of the room next to me. Another guy looked like he was in his early twenties and drove a big blue pick up truck (I saw it in the parking lot).
Class began right on time by our instructor who closed the door of the classroom, keeping us inside. Our instructor's name was Bobby Schupp, written on the white board ahead of us. He was a short man who wore glasses, probably in his late fifties but was aggressive and assertive when he talked.
“Ok,” he began. “Now I hope that none of you were hoping for a four-hour lecture because that’s not what you are going to get. I like to be interactive with you all. I will call on some of you to give me your personal experiences and others to give me what you think is the right answer. If everyone cooperates and answers my questions in a timely order we will not have to stay the full four hours, sound good, can we all do that?” We answered with an already bored “yes” and he asked us again “Can we all do that?”
“YES,” we answered.
First thing that stuck with me and still does is the one piece of information he told us not to forget.
“If you don’t do anything else I tell you to do in the course, do this. It will save your life one day,” he said. “Whenever you go through an intersection of any kind, traffic light or not, simply take your foot off the gas and let it hover over the brake.” This, as I learned by his personal experience will make one more aware of their surroundings while crossing an intersection so that you can look out for people who are not paying attention. This information didn’t necessarily raise my eyebrows, but it is something very small that I didn’t realize could save my life and that intrigue me.
Another thing I learned is that talking on your cell phone while you are driving is impaired driving. Though it is not illegal in North Carolina, talking on your phone is the same as having a .08 BAC level. Also, I didn’t know this but, New Hanover County is the smallest county in North Carolina and has the highest accident rate of any other county. That didn’t really surprise me too much; I’ve been driving in New Hanover County for three years.
I left at 7 p.m. at the first of the ten-minute breaks, as I was asked to. I was glad that I was able to leave, but I think half the fun was knowing everyone else I was looking at was only a third of the way done. I would have absolutely, without a question, never have gone to this class on my own, but in a way I’m glad that I did. It was an experience for me and it taught me some stuff I didn’t know, which is always good. I was also glad that my macchiato was still warm and waiting for me in the car. Hopefully, all that caffeine won’t make me want to speed on the way home.
The official title of the course was: Defensive Driving Course 4. I found out about the class because my roommate Henry had to attend one for a speeding ticket. I just tagged along with him hoping I would come across some interesting information because I have never gotten a traffic ticket and, as a result, had never had to attend a driving course.
Two coordinators of the class sat at a table where we walked in. They asked for our name and payment ($185 by money order) and gave each student a sheet of paper which they filled out with things such as their name, social security and license numbers, and handed everyone a course guide. I explained to them that I was there not because I had a driving offense, but because I was interested in knowing what the course offered. The woman coordinator shot me a confused look and explained to me that since the course costs money, unless I only stayed an hour or so, I would have to pay the $185 like everyone else. I told her that I would only stay for the first hour and would leave during the first break. She nodded her head and watched me as I took my seat in the back of the classroom.
First thing I did while everyone else was busy filling out their paper work was to make observations. We were in a small classroom. If I stood in the middle between the two rows of desks I would see five rows of four desks pushed together into one big, long table on my left, and four rows of two desks pushed together on my right. In front of me was a whiteboard with two diagrams of roads with little yellow and black blocks attached to the Velcro representing cars. To the right of the white board was a fuzzy TV with a VCR on the bottom and to the left of the white board was a large flipchart version of the course guide handed to us as we walked in. It was a standard classroom.
Seven people were in the room when I walked in. Each person sat in their own row of desks and no one looked at anyone else. It was like everyone but I was ashamed to be there. Four of the people looked like they were in their thirties and forties and all had families. There was one other college-aged student besides my roommate who had ignored the “no food or drinks” sign and was nursing her cup of coffee in the back of the room next to me. Another guy looked like he was in his early twenties and drove a big blue pick up truck (I saw it in the parking lot).
Class began right on time by our instructor who closed the door of the classroom, keeping us inside. Our instructor's name was Bobby Schupp, written on the white board ahead of us. He was a short man who wore glasses, probably in his late fifties but was aggressive and assertive when he talked.
“Ok,” he began. “Now I hope that none of you were hoping for a four-hour lecture because that’s not what you are going to get. I like to be interactive with you all. I will call on some of you to give me your personal experiences and others to give me what you think is the right answer. If everyone cooperates and answers my questions in a timely order we will not have to stay the full four hours, sound good, can we all do that?” We answered with an already bored “yes” and he asked us again “Can we all do that?”
“YES,” we answered.
First thing that stuck with me and still does is the one piece of information he told us not to forget.
“If you don’t do anything else I tell you to do in the course, do this. It will save your life one day,” he said. “Whenever you go through an intersection of any kind, traffic light or not, simply take your foot off the gas and let it hover over the brake.” This, as I learned by his personal experience will make one more aware of their surroundings while crossing an intersection so that you can look out for people who are not paying attention. This information didn’t necessarily raise my eyebrows, but it is something very small that I didn’t realize could save my life and that intrigue me.
Another thing I learned is that talking on your cell phone while you are driving is impaired driving. Though it is not illegal in North Carolina, talking on your phone is the same as having a .08 BAC level. Also, I didn’t know this but, New Hanover County is the smallest county in North Carolina and has the highest accident rate of any other county. That didn’t really surprise me too much; I’ve been driving in New Hanover County for three years.
I left at 7 p.m. at the first of the ten-minute breaks, as I was asked to. I was glad that I was able to leave, but I think half the fun was knowing everyone else I was looking at was only a third of the way done. I would have absolutely, without a question, never have gone to this class on my own, but in a way I’m glad that I did. It was an experience for me and it taught me some stuff I didn’t know, which is always good. I was also glad that my macchiato was still warm and waiting for me in the car. Hopefully, all that caffeine won’t make me want to speed on the way home.
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