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Driving practice mirrors lessons in life: humility and perseverance pay off

Subhead
On Second Thought
Lead Summary
By
Lori Sorenson, editor

We have another almost-licensed driver in our household, which is about to have a profound effect on the grownups in our family who currently chauffeur him to practice, social outings and other obligations.
I say “almost” and “about to” because the kid is 15 and has passed his behind-the-wheel test to secure a farm permit — which allows him to travel for farm purposes only, and only for limited distances and only during daylight hours.
“Almost” also applies because passing the exam wasn’t a slam dunk.
After several years of commandeering farm equipment and ATVs, the kid fancied himself an accomplished driver.
And, in our 50 hours of required driving with a responsible adult (mostly me), he had proven himself relatively trustworthy. I didn’t fear for my life and for others on the road.
As his practice hours accumulated and the time neared for the test with the DMV, the kid was confident of a sure pass. To the point of arrogance.
To the point of criticizing his mother’s driving.
Until I asked him to show me how well he can parallel park. He had aced this part of his behind-the-wheel training (with a four-door car) so he gladly obliged.
On the first attempt, he planted my Chevy Trailblazer squarely between two other parked cars, but he was about 6 feet from the curb.
He sighed, pulled out into the street and tried again.
This ended with our rear passenger tire against the curb with the vehicle still at a 45-degree angle.
A third unsuccessful attempt resulted in a red-faced, frustrated driver who decided the lesson was over. “People are staring at me,” he said, heading for home.
I was fine with that. No one wants to be in the passenger seat of a vehicle controlled by an angry teenager.
About 5 miles down the road I ventured to suggest more rehearsing before testing at the Highway Department.
He agreed. Reluctantly.
A few days later we were at it again. This time on a quiet residential street where we happened to find two vehicles parked with a car’s length between them.
Things went better this time, but we made multiple attempts to be sure.
After backing into the spot with mere inches between our front bumper and the car in front of us, the nearby homeowner appeared, keys in hand.
“Let me move this for you,” he said, getting his car and wheeling away, effectively ending the session.
Fearing further embarrassment and tiring of his mother’s instruction, the kid mastered the procedure on his own.
At home.
Between two large barrels and a pretend curb of 2-by-4s.
I smiled at his determination, secretly observing from the kitchen window.
The activity was more than driving practice; it was a lesson in humility and perseverance. And when he passed the test the following week, it proved that good things are worth working for.

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