Over at Pandagon Amanda talks about some poor dear to whom “sexism” isn’t enough of an answer to the question “Why do men do most of the driving when there’s a man and a woman?”
This is one of those times were I really wish that I could say I buck the trend, but alas, I don’t. When it’s Hubby and Me, or PE and I, more than likely it’s the guy doing the driving.* The short answer to why this is so is “Because I hate to drive” where the guys I hang out with it enjoy it. But, that is really only one part of this onion of sexism.
Like a lot of girls, I was not terribly encouraged to take a lot of risks. In fact, I was downright DISCOURAGED from taking any sort of risks, and in the car it was no different. I can remember one time when my dad got a three-wheeler, I near immediately put the thing in the ditch, and didn’t have the upper body strength to pull it out again. I burned with embarrassment, not only at the idea of not being able to get it out, but for getting it stuck in the first place. My dad, trying to be sympathetic, said “That’s okay- that’s what men are for, to do the heavy lifting for sweet little girls”. I wasn’t allowed to drive the thing any more. The neighbor boy took that thing through 3 feet of mud, bent some of the frame, and was still allowed to drive it around.
When I went to get my driver’s license, I was told, again and again, about how dangerous driving was, and how expensive the car was, and how much the family relied upon it to keep working. I was NOT allowed to go cruising around for the fun of it (I had to have a specific place to go, and I had to come back immediately afterwards).
My dad, who I’ve seen pull J-turns with the best of them and thinks the speed limit is a suggestion, freaked out if I went more than five miles over the speed limit.** Driving, instead of representing freedom and the fun of the journey, represented chores and ferrying around little sister.
I also tend to get really worried while driving. A couple of early accidents (people hitting me, not the other way around) makes me incredibly paranoid about being on the road. The accidents were ruled to be “Mostly their fault” but I had something like 20% responsibility for one of them, so my parents screamed at me for the increase in insurance for about a week after it. I see all of the possible accidents on the road, and that tends to make my adrenaline gland go into overdrive.*** Compare that with when I’m riding, where I can tend to have a more zen-like attitude (if we crash, it’s not my fault).
It’s nothing against the guys who do the driving- PE thinks so highly of my driving skills that I’m one of 3 people allowed to drive his car, and when Hubby and I travel in really heavy traffic, we’ve learned to let me do it (I’m less likely to take asshole drivers personally). For the most part, the guys I drive with are perfectly aware that I can drive quite well. They are also perfectly aware that I hate it. There are, of course, some exceptions. FiL and my dad need to be the ones driving- it’s very control-freaky on their part. A few of my guy friends will “let” me drive, but then make fun of me for driving like a “granny”.****
And I think my experience (aside from the paranoia- that’s all me) is not unique. We teach guys to take charge, we teach girls to be more passive. I just wish there was more public transit so I wouldn’t have to drive at all.
*The exception to this was when I was the only car in a group of car-less friends and college. Oh, and Bear, but that’s because he’s a TERRIBLE driver. Like, frighteningly bad, I would walk 5 miles than have him give me a ride in winter terrible.
** I’m to this a terrible driver when my dad is in the car. Probably a mental block- or possibly the sound of him slamming the invisible brake.
*** Of course, the flip side of this is I’m a very aware and safe driver. I’m very good at picking out when someone’s going to move over in the lane without signaling or checking their blind spot. I start emergency braking before being consciously aware of the need to do so.
****Apparently, driving like a granny means: I don’t go through yellow lights if I have enough space to stop, I don’t do more than 5 over the speed limit, I let people onto the highway from the off-ramp, and give people plenty of space if I’m going through an intersection. Also, I don’t do J-turns, or power turning, or donuts on the icy roads (on purpose).
I’m only just learning to drive now, and it’s the man in my life who’s teaching me. So when we went out to get some odds and ends today we each did some of the driving – me doing some ponderous learning at the start, then he doing the rest to save time and because traffic was getting horrible – but I don’t know whether I’ll ever be the one who regularly drives for us both.
Hmm. Well, I get to drive when I want to drive, because the car we use is mine. I do let the hubbie drive if he’s dropping me off, if we’re driving the interstate for an hour to visit my parents (though, admittedly, with my eyes squeezed shut for the first twenty minutes until we’re out of the city limits), and if he really has to use the bathroom. The first, for obvious reasons; the second, because he doesn’t care if he gets a speeding ticket for going a bit over on the highway, whereas I mind if I do; the third, because I’m not going to be responsible for another adult not making it to the potty in time. lol
Since we share a vehicle, honestly, I try to give him equal time behind the wheel so that he stays in practice. If you look at any relationship, I think it only stands to reason that the person who does the least driving is not as confident and makes more mistakes.
I’m 27 years old and I’ve only just got my driver’s license. You are probably thinking “how pathetic” but I for one was thoroughly intimidated by my family, who constantly insisted that I was too stupid and weak to drive. Yeah, it was a bad situation all around. The point is, don’t forget that driving is power. Some men insist on driving because they want the upper hand, just as they insist on paying because they want the woman to feel indebted to them. If he drives you’ve got to go where he wants, when he wants, how he wants. There are plenty of horror stories from the 50s (when girls were taught to let boys drive on dates, and girls weren’t taught to drive a stick shift) of boys driving to some desolate spot with their date and demanding sex as payment for a safe trip home, else she would have to walk miles back home at night.
The attitude you talk about growing up with is quite similar to what I had to deal with when I finally started driving.
The negative reinforcement is subtle, but it’s constant and it does undermine your confidence, which makes you less likely to drive, which makes you rusty, which makes you less confident, and so on. And every time you mess up, it is because women are fundamentally incapable of handling the complexities of driving and why the hell are you on the road at all you subhuman penis-less freak?! A man’s mistake, on the other hand, is either simply that – a mistake – or he’s just a bit of an idiot but it’s not any sort of reflection on all men. Funny that.
I’m a female who does all the driving in our family. My husband just doesn’t have the patience for it and gets awful road rage. My navigation skills are shite though, so he navigates from the co-pilot seat.
In my experience, it’s always been “if it’s your car, you drive.” However, I haven’t owned a car in 6+ years, and my boyfriend has a car, so he pretty much always drives unless I’m driving my parents’ car or something.. I drive his car without him if I need it, but if he’s there, he drives – it’s his car, after all, and he’s also a huge car fanatic who loves to drive (I don’t hate driving myself, but I’m pretty neutral about the whole experience). If and when I get a car someday, he’ll get to ride as a passenger.
I do pretty much all the driving in my family, which has been an adjustment for my partner — his last partner only learned to drive a few years ago at 29ish, and he taught her. It was a struggle to get him to stop giving me pointers on things like backing out of spaces when I got here, as I’ve been driving for 15 years and can back out just fine. I know he’d like to drive more — like me, he enjoys it — but the problem is after about 20 minutes in the passenger seat I am greenish and hanging my head out the window so as not to get horf on the inside of the car. (Let us not mention the back seat, a terrible and cursed place.) Also he can’t drive my car (a manual) and our roommate normally has his car, so that creates an additional obstacle.
Thinking back I’ve done a lot of the driving in most of my relationships, be it because I liked driving while my partner didn’t or because I have an increasingly hard time with carsickness. (It’s actually gotten worse as I’ve gotten older. I’m about to call shenanigans here.)
I am basically a Very Traditional Woman, being a housewife and all. And yet, I do the driving. My car is more comfortable, faster, better gas milage, etc than his truck, and since it’s mine, I drive. Unless I want him to because of a backache or something. Dad taught me to drive with the intention of…I dunno, making a stock-car driver out of me I think. All the tricks, plus the maintenance re oil, sparks plugs,timing, belts and all. “You won’t always have a man around to do these things, and even if you do he probably won’t know what to do” he said.
So here I am, June Cleaver With Pearls, yet I do the driving.