The Best Advice I Never Received

Everyone who isn’t you is an idiot.

I didn’t attend a driver’s ed course. It wasn’t a requirement of obtaining a license in New York, cost too much, and my mom was probably the best teacher a kid could ask for*. That said, a pivotal piece of advice in my life came from a local drivers ed teacher. I cannot provide the context but, knowing what I know about this man through my time in his physics class, I like to believe it was an off-handed comment. What he said boils down to a less tactful rephrasing of Hanlon’s Razor which states to never attribute to malice something that can be adequately explained by stupidity. I think that lack of tact is what stuck the phrase in my mind. 

In the context of driving this is meant to be a reminder that there is no way to predict the movements of the other drivers on the road and the safest option is to assume they will always make the most reckless and unpredictable moves. In life I have used the phrase as a reminder to myself and others that we cannot control the actions of anyone but ourselves and we can only make choices in order to keep ourselves and our loved ones safe. Often other peoples' actions can feel to me like personal and vengeful attacks when it's most often a case of just not thinking. I've found it helpful to remind myself of this often.

Go if you’re going.

The spiritual successor of the previous advice comes from a friend of my mother’s was out for a drive with her. “Go if you’re going” acts as a reminder to commit to a choice and follow through. Obviously most applicable when driving, I have found that acts as an effective reminder that you have to commit yourself to your goals. While it is okay and even good to step away from projects and adventures that are harmful to you, it's also good to follow through when things get unsteady or hard. When you have to remind yourself to stick with a project is typically just before a major breakthrough. To give up and walk away at that moment leaves you in an unsafe state comparable to stopping halfway through an intersection while driving, vulnerable to collision from all sides.

You have two options: move or stay still.

I have never met a kid named Devin—I doubt he ever knew I existed—but his advice has echoed in my mind every time I make a decision. Every crossroads I have come to since I heard this in 2015 has been simplified to a “move or stay” dichotomy making it easy to move forward (or to not as the decision may be). Sometimes this has looked like deciding not to drop out of a school program and others it is as simple as debating between watching another episode of 911 or clean the kitchen.

I have chosen to move just as often as I have chosen to stay still. In fact, both of those examples have ended either way. In high school I took a technical school course in culinary arts that helped me decided a commercial kitchen isn't for me and so I left. Conversely, in my senior year at college, I was faced with my world seemingly crumbling around me and almost dropped out but decided to stick it out. I don't have any regrets about either outcome seeing as I made the right choice for each situation. As for the TV vs cleaning debate, that one is always a crap-shoot.

 Whether it’s a driver’s ed instructor’s commentary on the general competency of other drivers on the road or a friend’s advice on how to move forward from a difficult situation, inspiration can spark from the strangest sources.

*Note: I wouldn’t have said this at the time as my mom followed the Hellfire Driving School rule book which made the experience less than ideal in the moment. I remember specifically on our first outing when I was driving by the empty Scout camp near my house when she suddenly smacked her hands on the dash of the minivan and yelled “DEER!” to test my reaction time. Thankfully I passed this torturous test by slamming on the brakes in order to glare daggers at my disruptive passenger. This was apparently the goal and the imaginary deer crossed the road without injury. To this day have never hit a deer or Scout crossing the road to go for a swim (which was trial two).