My time to drive

But I still had no idea what to expect when I arrived at the DMV office in pouring rain at 8:30 a.m., 15 minutes before my test. The pounding of water droplets on the roof of the car only served to make me more and more nervous, especially as I recalled that failing to use the windshield wipers properly was one of the few critical driving errors, errors that can be summed up as “Sorry, try again in another two weeks.”

As I waited for my turn to drive, the rain gradually slowed to a gentle trickle, and by 9:45 a.m., as I reached the front of the line, the only signs of rain were fat globules of water that sat silently on the street below and the green leaves above. Although the extended wait had done nothing for my nerves, I was secretly grateful the windshield wipers would not be a pressing concern during my driving test.

When the DMV driving test examiner entered the car, suited in a long, blue all-weather coat embellished with the DMV logo, I felt as if I was bound to crash into the curb or forget my hand signals or run a red light. In short, I was almost confident I was going to make a mistake. But miraculously, I managed to return back to the DMV without having scratched the car, or having posed a hazard to any poor passerby that had happened to cross paths with a nervous teenager in charge of a car, or having bumped into anything either living or nonliving. I had passed.

The first emotions that swept me were all somewhat related to exhilaration, and although it wasn’t really the case, I felt as if I had more freedom than before. I was finally able to drive on my own, my two hands on the wheel, the passenger seat beside me empty. But after the initial delight and rush of excitement faded, I soon realized the true implications of receiving my license.

Having my driver’s license meant that there were people out there — my family, my friends, the DMV and the general public — who trusted me. People who trusted me and my abilities enough to allow me to control a 3,500-pound lump of leather, rubber and painted metal. People who trusted me to pay attention to my surroundings at every single moment while driving and people who trusted me to obey the traffic signs and signals. People who trusted me to follow the provisional license restrictions and say no when asked to give my friends rides.

My driver’s license is a privilege, but one that comes with the greatest possible responsibility — that of ensuring the safety of myself, but mostly, the safety and lives of those around me. And believe me, if I am on the road, know that I am doing my best.

Cindy Zhang is a junior at San Mateo High School. Student News appears in the weekend edition. You can email Student News at news@smdailyjournal.com.