A story that changed my perspective on impaired driving happened one night when I was in my apartment with my roommates. We were all sitting around like it was a normal night when suddenly one of them got a call from her parents saying that her brother, who was supposed to be home hours ago, was missing. No one knew where he was, and he was not answering his phone. I will never forget the look on her face in that moment. She went completely pale, then started pacing as she tried calling him over and over again. She and her parents went driving for hours trying to find any sign of him, and the longer it went on, the more panicked everyone became.

They eventually found out that he had been driving under the influence on a back road late at night. He hit a lane rail, spun out, and totaled the car. Thankfully, he survived with only a few scratches and bruises, but the situation could have ended very differently. Hearing what happened felt surreal. It wasn’t a headline or a warning video or a story from someone’s mom’s cousin’s friend. It was a real person. Someone I had met. Someone I genuinely thought would never be the type to make that decision. That shook me in a way I didn’t expect. Seeing the fear and panic my roommate went through, and imagining how her parents must have felt during those hours of not knowing, completely shifted my outlook. It made me realize that impaired driving does not impact just the driver. It affects everyone around them, from family and friends to innocent people on the road. And honestly, it made the issue feel heartbreakingly real.

To me, impaired driving means operating a vehicle when you are not mentally, physically, or emotionally able to do so safely. It is the moment when you can’t stop crying because you got into a fight with your mom and your hands are shaking on the steering wheel. Or when you’re on your third coffee of the day and your eyes feel heavy enough to close on their own. Or when you’ve had a few glasses of wine with dinner but you “feel” totally fine because you’re not stumbling or slurring, so you convince yourself driving is no big deal. Those moments can seem harmless in your head, but they are all examples of impairment. Most people grow up hearing that impaired driving only refers to being extremely drunk or high, but I have learned it is so much more than that. It also includes moments when you are overwhelmed, exhausted, distracted, or emotionally shaken. Those states can interfere with your senses and reactions just as much as substances can. I think that broader definition is often misunderstood, even by people who have completed driver’s education, because the courses tend to focus heavily on the legal and physical effects of alcohol and drugs, rather than the emotional and situational realities most drivers actually face.

I think that is why driver’s education can only go so far unless it addresses the real, social situations people actually face. When teenagers learn about impaired driving, a lot of them adopt a “that will never happen to me” mindset. It feels like something abstract, something that happens to irresponsible strangers in dramatic commercials. But in college, impaired driving becomes a lot more personal and a lot more complicated. It looks like a close friend insisting that they are sober enough to drive even though you watched them drink earlier. Or someone saying it’s just five minutes down the road, and “nothing bad happens on short drives.” Or the pressure of being the only one willing to speak up when everyone else is brushing it off.

These situations are emotional and socially messy, and traditional driver’s ed doesn’t really prepare you for that. Facts and statistics don’t help much when you’re trying to convince a stubborn, overconfident friend to hand over their keys. I think the most effective programs are the ones that teach people how to speak up, how to handle peer pressure, how to calmly redirect a situation, and how to protect their friends without embarrassing them or causing an argument.

Personally, I have realized that the biggest impact I can have in preventing impaired driving is by learning how to intervene calmly and compassionately. My school requires all students to take several safety and wellbeing courses, and I have actually used those skills in real situations. The key is approaching someone with patience instead of judgment. If a friend is impaired, telling them “you’re drunk, you can’t drive” rarely works. In their mind, they genuinely believe they feel okay. What does work is creating distance from the car, getting them away from the chaos, offering to pay for an Uber, or sitting with them until they sober up. I’ve learned to put myself in their shoes and think about how I would want someone to talk to me if our roles were reversed. A little empathy goes a long way, especially when emotions are high.

Impaired driving isn’t just about following laws. It’s about caring for yourself and the people around you. And after experiencing how deeply it can impact a family, I am committed to doing my part to make sure I never contribute to that kind of fear or pain for anyone else.