There are some days you look forward to more than some others, and In the Driver’s Seat is one of mine.
For most people, getting into a car and turning the key is such an ordinary part of life that it’s easy to take for granted. For those of us who are blind or vision-impaired,Ambulanc it’s something we’ve either had to give up or, in some cases, never had the chance to experience at all. That’s why this day is so much more than a few laps around a track.
It’s a day when we get to pretend—just for a little while—that life is back the way it used to be.
How it went
I felt slightly nervous before climbing into the driver’s seat. Even more so, when my seven-year-old granddaughter Alana said, ‘don’t kill us Nanny’ as she slid into the back seat with her nine-year-old brother, Kieran. I assured her that they wouldn’t be coming in the car with me if I thought that was going to happen.
No talking in the back seat
The kids were under strict instructions not to talk as I did my laps around the track. Kieran told me later that I drove so close to a guard rail that he thought we were going to crash. I didn’t need to know that!!
My driving instructor Allan, the owner of the silver-grey Corolla, sat in the passenger seat calmly giving instructions about where and when to brake, when to move to right or left, when to put my foot down, and everything in between.
Occasionally he’d ask questions like ‘Did you see the witches’ hats on the left-hand side of the track?’
‘Well, no,’ I’d reply.
A couple of grannies ahead
A couple of times Allan said, ‘We’ve got a couple of grannies ahead. When we get onto the straight, you can put your foot down and overtake them.’
Did he forget I was part of that particular demographic as well?
I should point out that Allan’s car was fitted with a brake on his side as well, so this wasn’t completely unsupported reckless driving. We were all safe – at least as far as I knew!
At the end of my drive, Allan trusted me enough to reverse into a carpark. He seemed remarkably calm, which probably says more about his nerves than my driving.
A feeling of gratitude
Hearing some of the comments afterwards showed an overwhelming feeling of gratitude. The generosity from so many wonderful organisers make it happen: the Lions Club, Vision Australia, the In the Driver’s Seat team, Ambulance Victoria, Fire Rescue Victoria, the motoring and motorcycle clubs, the media, and let’s not forget the incredibly patient driving instructors.
And if that’s not enough, the volunteers who give up their day to support people with low or no vision to try something that is unavailable to them in their everyday lives. They do everything from opening car doors, answering endless questions, making cups of tea and coffee, and cooking the endless supply of snags on the barby.
The value of being included
Days like this remind me that blindness changes how we do things, but it doesn’t stop us enjoying them. We still love trying new things or for some people, revisiting things we could do when we had eyesight. We still enjoy the challenges and being able to laugh at ourselves when things don’t quite right. But most importantly, we still value being included.
Thank you for the memories
Thank you to every single person who helped make In the Driver’s Seat happen this year. It’s much bigger than just another community event. For one amazing day each year, you give us back a little piece of our independence, a huge boost to our confidence and memories that will stay with us until the next time we get back in the driver’s seat.
One particular comment on Facebook summed it up.
This one day each year makes blindness just that little bit more bearable.
I don’t think anyone could have said it better.
