Living without a License
Many are surprised when I tell them that I do not have a driver’s license. I am forty two years old, a college professor, a mom, a wife, to name a few roles. I have never had the inclination to drive but when it is revealed to others in some odd way that I do not possess a driver’s license, immediately attitudes change. The most common response I get is “how do you get around?” to which I reply “I take the bus.” It seems like life without a license lacks independence and freedom but the freedom one seeks with a license is not really freedom: it is a responsibility. I admit I do not like having too much responsibility, and taking the bus allows me experiences a different side of freedom than the one that would require me to watch out for what’s on the road.
“So it must be hard to get around?” I am asked, but it’s not. To being a juxtaposition to argue such an idea would be full of fallacies. How can I know if getting around without a car is hard if I never experienced life driving a car. Sure, I had boyfriends and have friends who have cars, and my husband uses his car (I obviously have no ownership to it), but being in the passenger seat is pretty much the same as sitting in a bus, except that I get to talk to the driver – which I sometimes do – and maybe be an extra set of eyes. Is it hard to get around? No. Each little discovery on how to get around provides me with a greater degree of freedom than I previously had.
This past winter, most buses in the the public transit system in my area went on strike. I was lucky enough that the number four bus I take was not affected, but two of the buses that I needed at the start of the winter term were, so what was I going to do? In my suburban area, the metropolitan city buses also run taking workers to a subway in the northern part of Toronto. The great thing about having more than one public transit company and multiple routes running in suburbia is the discovery those untrodden paths that so many would not be able to see as they are use to just seeing the path. During the strike, I discovered a much quicker way to get to work and home than my pre-strike route. The discovery of new routes fills me with a new sense of freedom. If to know one thing and to know another means I know three things, then my knowledge of the public transit system is extreme. I can connect in my head a new route to the routes I already know creating web of connections, for the network of routes works like a web upon which the spider can merely transfer from one divergent string to another to get to its goal. A spider never gets caught in its web, and I never have been without resources to get around. It’s there and I’ve learned how to use them well.
While today’s youth may be connecting socially on the Internet, those who take the bus are connecting socially on the routes. When I’ve had early morning classes, I’ve noticed on the bus that those who are the veteran riders have formed their own collective. Stop after stop, a member would step on and they all would be sitting in the same seats they sat the morning before, the week before and the month before. Each began with smile, said a good morning, commented about the weather and asked a personal query about each other. In fact, each member seemed so comfortable with each other and they were not at all hesitant to collectively work together. One time, a new driver was constantly late, five minutes late which affected some of the transfers to other buses . So, the collective on the bus agreed each would call the company and file a complaint. The following week, the old driver was back on the route and she was met with an abundance of grateful greetings.
I change campuses and schedules practically every term so I do not form any connection to any public transit social unit, but the one thing that the bus gives me is time for me. I can read a book within a week or two while taking the bus, and I am not the only one reading. I can text on a bus without fear of a ticket, and I have even seen people knit. I can listen to music on my smartphone without worrying if I will be distracted and hit someone. One fun thing is I can listen to conversations, and yes I do. In some cases, the dialogue provides some very good warm up material in class. Imagine a teacher walking into an 8:00 am class saying “Let me start by telling you about what I heard on the bus this morning?” One great thing the bus gives me is time. The time I have on the bus is the mental preparation of what’s to come or the decompression of what has happened. When the doors of the bus close after I board, I can leave it all behind and not worry about it for about an hour.
Finally, the thing I like most about the bus is it allows me to think. In college, I had a difficult time trying to come up with ideas for essays and how to organize my ideas. My college was near a metro so in between classes I would walk down to the station, get on a train and ride to a transfer point to board another train. I would ride the metro for at least an hour. My boyfriend at the time thought I was really weird, but at the time I did not care and still don’t. The movement of the train allows me to relax and reflect on how to address and deal with a certain obstacle, small or big. I need movement to think. I am a kinetic learner. Without movement, my mind is dead.
To me, this is what it feels like to live without a license. To me, this is the freedom I love to have: an existence without worry. There is life in the buses and a little more of a life can be had on a bus rather than waiting in a bottlenecked highway. In the driver seat, I felt anxious and anger – and this was just during the lessons. Thankfully I failed the test and never went back. I love my bus and would never give it up.
taramcclure 