In the suburbs of New York City, driving a car is a necessary rite of passage for every high school junior. You may only be permitted to drive a used ten-year-old Ford Taurus upon passing your road test, but that’s beyond the point. Successfully completing your road test makes it seem like the world is at your fingertips. You’re granted a great responsibility and privilege with a small plastic ID and a set of keys.
So after only nine months with my learner’s permit and the bare minimum of practice, senseless seventeen year old me decided that I was most certainly ready to take the driving test. Bright and early one March morning in 2010, my dad patiently waited in front of the DMV while several drivers who began their test after me returned with passing marks. Three blocks away, I had just pulled out of a spot and collided with another car. My road test ended just as quickly as it had begun. Hitting another vehicle and filing a police report leads to an automatic failure of your road test (as I soon found out).
Although the accident was just a fender-bender and neither car was going over 10 miles per hour, it was still stunning and scary. Once the initial shock of the accident wore off and the police paperwork was completed, the disappointment of failure quickly set in. Admittedly, I was ill prepared and inexperienced. But I was still saddened and frustrated that I had not passed.
My dad emphasized that there was no time for wallowing and insisted that I get back in the driver’s seat and complete the 20 mile trek to school. With my confidence shot and the recent failure hovering, I was less than enthused to start the car and shift the gears into drive. But my dad gave me no other option. So just minutes after my first accident, I was in the driver’s seat once again and arrived at school in time for third period. Failing has another challenge, admitting it to yourself and others. I laughingly told my friends about the horrid road test incident with a giggle and a smile. But as someone who prides herself on success, I was tremendously embarrassed to fess up to my recent failure. Thankfully, friends will always support you and they don’t determine your worth based on one mishap. Accepting failure is challenge, but finally overcoming it is amazingly rewarding.
On that March morning, my father’s persistence annoyed me but today I’m grateful for his encouragement because I learned an incredibly important lesson—when you don’t succeed, you need to jump back in the saddle (or the driver’s seat) and try again. Success will come, eventually. It may include a damaged headlight, a dampened spirit, and a temporarily carless teenager. But the important thing is that failure is transitory. You will move forward, it will pass, and one day you will pass too.
