It only takes a second. Eyes off the road for one second. The change from comfort to sudden panic in a second. That was me many years ago. I was sitting in the back of my aunt's SUV returning home from the dog groomer. It seemed like a normal ride home: music playing, everyone cruising, and I was gazing out the window, watching objects zoom by. But in a second, my heart went from a steady beat to rapid bursts out of my chest. A loud crash rang through my ears, and the smell of chemicals burned through my nostrils. My aunt’s small Yorkipoo puppy launched out of the back seat and plunged to the middle of the floor. The airbag exploded onto my aunt's face, leaving smoke billowing out. “IT’S A FIRE!” my brother shrieked in terror. His panic fueled mine, and we were both screaming for our lives. In the midst of the chaos, I noticed that my aunt had rear-ended the car in front of us. This was the first time I experienced a car accident. The cause? Distraction. The car in front was stopped at a green light. My aunt did not slow down or notice that the car was immobile.

Thank God no one was hurt from that experience, but many cannot say the same. Impaired driving causes thousands of unnecessary deaths each year. These lives could still be here today if people behind the wheel used their good judgment. Every day I hear about a soul stolen by an impaired driver on the news, and some of these individuals were simply walking on the sidewalk or crossing the street. I take my electric scooter to school almost every day, and I have had many close calls. Hearing those stories has me pondering how that could have been, or could be, my final moment. These people were not under the influence of drugs or alcohol, but rather under the influence of distraction—the same distraction that put my family in danger 10 years ago. It's insane how one second off the road to peer at a text message or notification could be the difference between life and death for an individual or family.

Recently, I obtained my learner's permit. While I was working toward it, I took driver’s education classes. They opened my eyes to the many measures drivers take every day to get from point A to point B alive. In my heart, I made it my priority to be a responsible driver. I never want to be the one to injure or take a person's life because of my negligence. Practicing behind the wheel with my dad and driving instructor taught me the importance of alertness and keeping my composure during an emergency.

As I gained confidence on the road, I became more aware of other drivers' dangerous habits: swerving slightly in and out of lanes, tailgating, speeding through yellow lights, and rolling through stop signs. Every time I witness these treacherous practices, it takes me back to the crash with my aunt. It is a reminder that the consequences of reckless driving will always catch up to you.

Even outside of the car, I carry awareness around my neck. When I ride my scooter, I scan my surroundings like a deer, checking for cars turning without signaling or drivers inching forward without noticing me. There have been too many moments where a car crept up behind me or rolled through a stop sign while I was crossing. These moments could have been the end for me. I do not have the protection of metal or an airbag; it's just me, the pavement, the mercy of God, and the hope that drivers are paying attention. Unfortunately, not everyone is.

Impaired driving to me is more than a statistic; it's personal. It shaped the way I think and act on and off the road. I tuck my phone away where it’s accessible in case of an emergency but far enough away to avoid any creeping temptations. I constantly check my mirrors and surroundings, review my route, and maintain a safe distance from the car in front of me. These habits are supposed to be common sense, but alas, they have become less common.

Driver’s Ed stressed that car accidents are not really accidents. There is nothing random or inevitable about them. It all comes down to a second of poor judgment—someone who thought they could pull it off. Learning that for the first time shifted my mindset. Safe driving is active, not passive. As my dad put it, “You’re not just driving for yourself; you’re driving for other people.” All of us, driver or pedestrian, require respect in this endless dance between life and death.

It only takes a second. One second to choose to protect a life. One second to risk destroying it.