The problem with car horns

                            

Typically, my morning route to La Salle takes me to the south gate entrance of the lower parking lot, so I don’t often experience the congestion that takes place in front of the School during student drop-off at the time of the warning bell prior to the start of first block (I’m told it isn’t pretty).   Not too long ago, however, I had an 8am meeting with a donor in Sierra Madre, so I found myself driving north on Hastings Ranch Drive with the intention of turning right onto Sierra Madre Boulevard. The light was red, so I came to a stop, looked to my left and, proceeded to make a right-hand turn, thinking there was sufficient time to do so without impeding oncoming traffic. Apparently, I was wrong, because an SUV caught up behind me and, while leaning on the horn, proceeded to swerve to the left and then immediately cut into my lane, just in front of me. It appeared to me that the driver was angry that my poor judgment prevented him (her?) from arriving at the intended location in a timely manner. So, imagine my surprise when, not more than 1000 feet later, the driver pulled over to the curb in front of La Salle to drop off a student. I say, surprise, because I can only imagine the conversation between student and parent at that particular moment of high drama: “I’m going to be late and I’ll have to serve a detention and miss (insert activity) after school!”

              I suppose that this is a typical dialogue between most teenagers and their parents at some point in time. Having grown up in New York, my version of that conversation entailed getting out the door and to the bus stop in time – only it was my mother urging me to avoid the detention! So, I recognize that it was ever thus. What troubles me about the particular scene which I encountered on a certain Thursday morning was the SUV driver’s use of the car horn as an instructional tool. I say “instructional” because I’ve noticed over my nearly 20 years living in Los Angeles that the car horn – initially designed as a safety/warning device – appears to be more frequently used as a means of informing someone else of their errant behavior behind the wheel of a car – an electronic version of “You’re an idiot!” Don’t get me wrong – I spent a significant chunk of my life in NYC – so I’m used to horns blaring. But, for the most part, blaring horns were the provenance of taxi drivers, not SUV drivers. Yes, any visitor to Manhattan will recall the incessant use of the car horn; but, in general, their function is to alert another car driver that they are dangerously close to another vehicle (or to point out that cutting off another vehicle in order to make it through a changing stop light is a foolish choice). So, from my perspective, a blaring horn ought to be for the purpose of alerting another driver that an oncoming train is about to bring a life, well-lived, to a premature end.

              Not so in Los Angeles.

I get how frustrating traffic congestion is here (it really is worse than NYC). I get the frustration drivers experience when unexpected events clog the freeways (I’ve had too many heart-thumping-just-in-time- to-get-on-my-plane-at-LAX moments). What I don’t get is – other than providing an outlet for a person’s frustration at losing control of one’s expected arrival time – why leaning on a car horn is an acceptable response to the unexpected behavior of a complete stranger who, undoubtedly, is making his/her own assumptions about what is taking place at a particular moment. In my situation, I am ready to grant that I may have misjudged the distance between me and the oncoming vehicle. If so, a quick tap on the horn would (it seems to me) alert me to my error. A blaring horn (it seems to me) is a statement about my poor driving skills (most of my family and friends would agree) rather than a reminder to be more careful next time, or a quick alert that I am too close to an oncoming vehicle. The blaring horn, the rapid movement to circumnavigate my car and the immediate move to the curb tells me that, not only have I inconvenienced the offended driver, but that I needed to be taught a lesson.

              Perhaps I do – but I don’t think that responsibility should be held by any driver (especially in LA!) who is irritated by my – seemingly – poor judgment in a situation that transpired in less than two minutes. I especially don’t think that responsibility should be shouldered by a harried parent who is anxiously trying to ensure that the student passenger avoids being late for school. Here’s why…

              What’s the worst that can happen … an afternoon detention that becomes an inconvenient interruption into an already overscheduled day? Actually, that’s not the worst that can happen. The worst that can happen is that a teenager learns that it is okay to vent anger at strangers who may (or may not) have made a poor choice. We see too much of that among our peers in today’s society.  We (perhaps) agree that everyone should exercise more patience, more tolerance towards others. We worry about how to ensure that the next generation behaves in a responsible manner with respect to situations that, inevitably, they will not be able to control. But, what we don’t necessarily appreciate is that they are watching us and watching how we react to unexpected situations. They learn from us – without our ever noticing – that our reactions teach them how they should react.

One of the most difficult challenges I face in my role as a leader of the La Salle community is paying attention to the fact that my every reaction is parsed for its significance to those around me. I don’t always get it right – and my colleagues are there to help me accept that. I can’t imagine how difficult it is for parents to endure a lifetime of scrutiny. I only know that if we aren’t prepared to notice that our reactions to unplanned disruptions to our routine have consequences beyond the momentary annoyance, we run the risk of sending mixed signals to those for whom we have the greatest hope will be able to move our fragmented world closer to embracing the values of respect, tolerance and giving others the benefit of the doubt.

I think we would all benefit from putting the car horn on mute.