Stephanie B., Sacramento CA
I drive a stick shift because my father taught me, with gusto, that there is no need to drive anything else. My father, who back in '79 was able to get from first
to third gear from one stop sign to the next on our small residential streets. My boyfriend would advise me " I saw your dad, again, racing down the street."
The only time in high school I was stopped by the police was for getting up to third gear in a 20 mile an hour zone.
But that's not the only reason I drive a stick shift. It's the attitude. As a woman, it gives me strength. A one up on anyone that did not know how to drive one. It was a strong feeling to take that stick in your hand and maneuver it through the gears, like a racecar. His dream had been to have a sports car so small, you could place your hand on the street from your seat to stop it. He had a Volkswagen Beetle though, and was the one who taught me to drive. He taught me to keep your eye on the lights so that when the opposing light turned yellow I had my foot on the clutch and my hand on the gears ready to gun it, so that in the big city no one would honk at me to go. I suppose he was getting me ready so that I did not become flustered by a honking of the horns at the intersections. He taught me that on hills, you were to pull on the emergency brake just as your light changed, while simultaneously placing your gear into first, then as you let go of the brake you ease forward with such ease there is not more than a millimeter of drifting backwards. He taught me so well, I could place my favorite record album right behind my rear tire on a hill and not worry that I would damage it.
Driving a stick shift builds confidence. Confidence that in a pinch you can drive anything! Getting into the truck of my now husband was exhilarating the first time. He lent me his truck on our second date and I took it over with ease, confidence, as I would in the future, him and our relationship.
But that's not the only reason I drive a stick shift. It's the attitude. As a woman, it gives me strength. A one up on anyone that did not know how to drive one. It was a strong feeling to take that stick in your hand and maneuver it through the gears, like a racecar. His dream had been to have a sports car so small, you could place your hand on the street from your seat to stop it. He had a Volkswagen Beetle though, and was the one who taught me to drive. He taught me to keep your eye on the lights so that when the opposing light turned yellow I had my foot on the clutch and my hand on the gears ready to gun it, so that in the big city no one would honk at me to go. I suppose he was getting me ready so that I did not become flustered by a honking of the horns at the intersections. He taught me that on hills, you were to pull on the emergency brake just as your light changed, while simultaneously placing your gear into first, then as you let go of the brake you ease forward with such ease there is not more than a millimeter of drifting backwards. He taught me so well, I could place my favorite record album right behind my rear tire on a hill and not worry that I would damage it.
Driving a stick shift builds confidence. Confidence that in a pinch you can drive anything! Getting into the truck of my now husband was exhilarating the first time. He lent me his truck on our second date and I took it over with ease, confidence, as I would in the future, him and our relationship.