Driver’s Ed is something that every adolescent has to do in order to legally drive. You have to sit there, watch the movies, fight the urge to sleep during observation hours and log all the skills you learn with each time spent behind the wheel. All to get a piece of plastic that is a ticket to the highway of “More Independence” and a stepping stone to freedom. I sat through the movies, I logged my driving hours, and I remember the great feeling of receiving my driver’s license. But what is equally memorable is what happened as I was filling out the paperwork to take the driver’s test.
My teacher (her name in this story is “Edith”) was filling out the paperwork for us to bring to the DMV that said we passed the class and were ready to take the test. She had to fill out things like our name, address, phone, etc., and there could be no mistakes because it was on special paper in permanent pen. It got to be my turn, and Edith asked me to spell out my middle name.