Being a Teenager

Sometimes it is hard being a teenager. Now, it is important for you to realize that I am not the "typical" teenager. I do not have temper tantrums, I do not drink, do drugs, smoke, abuse freshman (well not often), or drink soda. I also have a clean room. Yes, I have a clean room. As a matter of fact, I take care of the house by cleaning it. If it weren't for my cleaning, the house would be a literal pig sty, filled with pigs and all. I get great grades in school, take the hardest classes offered, etc. My point is that I work hard and I am responsible.

SO, my mother and I had our very first fight ever. Well, first angry, yelling fight. And, it was over driving. Now, the speed limit on our highways here in Connecticut is 65 mph. I don't know about where you may be from, but here, most people drive about 75 mph on the highway. Yes, fast, but reasonable.

Well, I was driving back from my aunt's house. The highway was slightly damp. My dad was sitting next to me in the passenger seat, and my mom and sister were sitting in the back seat. So, I am driving behind this pack of cars, which are respectively behind two trucks. Now, there are three lanes, and these trucks are in the right two. Since they were braking, and the cars behind them were tapping their brakes, I decided the best decscion was to pass the dangerous situation, and move ahead. So, I moved to the left lane, sped up to 70 mph, and began to pass the truck. Now, the Violent Femmes were playing pretty loudly, you do have to keep that in mind.

The next thing I know, I hear my mother scream from the backseat, "Siobhan!!! You are going FAR TOO FAST!!!!!" She did it in that high-pitched, anxious voice that made me feel as though A) The truck was at that precise moment crashing into our car and B) I was a terrible, awful, irresponsible driver.

I was pretty upset. I mean, I am a young driver, I only have my permit and I do not have a lot of experience. So, having someone screaming at me from the backseat was certianally not only distracting, but upsetting. I may have been overly emotional, but I broke down crying. I was just... ashamed, I suppose. And disappointed that my mother couldn't find a better way to approach my driving.

So, I was mad and sad and... bad?? When we got home my mom didn't say anything. So Maeve and I headed up to my bed for the night (Maeve is having trouble sleeping in her own room due to the fact that it is COVERED in clothes, stuffed animals, and books). I came back downstairs to grab something and my mom says, "Siobhan, I'm sorry that I got upset at you earlier but you were making me very nervous. And I may be overeacting, but you can not drive over the speed limit in my car. I am upset that no one ever listens to me. You can not go over the speed limit. Not the supposed speed limit. You just stay in the right lane and drive 65 or under."

Now, I do understand where she is coming from, but with my little driving experience, I think that driving too slowly, where you are posing as an "in the way" object for other drivers is just as dangerous as driving 70 mph. I know that a car driving 55 mph on the highway (something my mom condones) makes me sort of angry, and I am more likely to pull a reckless pull into the next lane to pass them than otherwise. So, I explained this to my mom, maybe a little less coherently and a little more emotionally, but the same gist. But she decides that she isn't going to listen to me, nor have any more argument. And that's that.

So, well, now I don't know. I feel sort of like I am being restrained on the one thing where I felt like I was in control. My mom wants me to explain my driving maneuvers to her at all times, which I think is... well, ridiculous. "Mom, I'm turning left here. Mom, I'm accelerating to 25, 30, 35 mph. Mom, I'm pressing on the brake now." I think that if she is going to let me drive, she has to actually let me drive! Hah! That is exactly what I mean. As long as I am not driving dangerously, then I think that since I am behind the wheel, then I get the priveledge of making the driving decisions. That is 95% of driving, anyways, isn't it? Encountering a situation, and making a quick decision as to what the best course of action is? It is like those robots I read about in PopSci (Popular Science, magazine, for those of you who aren't as geeky as me) that in order to answer the phone, have to take a reading of the layout of a room and then make a decision about which path to the phone is easiest, taking into account changes that may occur to the room during the trip, such as a toddler crawling across the floor.

Conclusion: I get to make the driving decisions when I am behind the wheel, so long as they are safe and legal decisions.