Vehicle to Independence by Carolina Musawwir

Vehicle to Independence

by Carolina Musawwir

My first one was white. I was 17.

It was beautiful… small and easy to maneuver.  It made me feel powerful, gave me the freedom that I longed and the opportunity to control where life would take me.  A feeling that I wished my mom could have experienced. 

My mom can’t drive.  We’ll maybe she could, had she learned how to.  But my dad never taught her, and so the lack of a driver’s license meant a lack of freedom.  She depended on others to get her where she needed to go.  On the weekends my dad would take her to the grocery store and appointments… she had to schedule according to my dad’s availability.

My life is so different then hers.

I love my freedom, and my car, which allows me it.  My car helps me to be independent; it allows me to look at the world as a place of possibilities.  My mom’s world was limited to a dependence on her husband.  His car…his money…his decisions.

My car has heard many important conversations between my children and I.  We have talked about drugs, sex and many uncomfortable topics, because in those small quarters there is nowhere to hide from the discussion.  We have heard news about terrible events that have shaken our world and felt the weight of those news together as I steered the little piece of metal to our desired destination, even when the world outside of us has felt chaotic and out of control.

If my mom had had a car… would our communication have been better?  Would she have listened to us more?  Would I have left my house at the age of 16, totally unprepared for the world and the hardships that I would face trying to become an independent woman?

It’s because of my car, my determination to be the driver behind its steering wheel, and the countless women that came before me who sought independence and fought for my right to be in charge of my future, that I am here in a Master’s degree program today. 

My daughter will have her own car, and because of all of those conversations that we’ve had inside of mine, she will be an independent woman. I hope she never forgets that many women before her did not have the same possibilities and I hope that she will keep fighting so that women after her will have even more. 

Now my car is red.  

It’s been paid for by my teaching profession (so no it’s not an expensive one), but it has a lot of places still to take me.

Every woman needs a car!