We all have unfinished business to deal with. Oh, come on, you know what I mean—a screwup still salvageable if you put in the effort, a phone call or decision you can’t bring yourself to make, a routine checkup constantly postponed, paperwork printed out but unfilled, a failed test never retaken, words left unsaid and dormant projects.
These chores or potentially unnerving challenges don’t go away on their own. They remain on a to-do list or at the back of the mind. We’re only human, after all. There’s only so much we can accomplish.
I had unfinished business too. I tiptoed around it for… ahem, ten years.
I finally tackled it.
I’ve just completed stage 3 of Ontario’s graduated licensing system. I took and passed my (hopefully) last driving test ever.
“But, but… didn’t you have a driver’s licence?”
Yes, I did. Well, kind of. See, getting a driver’s licence in Ontario is a three-stage process. I had parked myself at stage 2—the G2 licence you’re definitely not supposed to keep for ten years. I should have taken the final highway road test to graduate to a full G licence years ago.
But I didn’t. I chickened out.
Getting a driver’s licence was yet another cultural experience in Canada and I embraced countless of others. What went wrong?
Well, it all started in France. This is where I learned to drive when I was 18. I sailed through high school and university and exited the French education system mostly unscathed. However, my brief driver education experience wounded my confidence.
I failed the test after the 20-hour mandatory practice with an instructor. There was no second chance—I didn’t have the budget for it plus examiners went on a long French-style strike shortly after.
Frankly, it was a relief. I expected to fail (national success rate is 57%) and I knew I wasn’t a good driver.
Then I came to Canada and Feng stated I needed a driver’s licence. I shook my head no, as if my one failed test in France meant I was forever unfit to drive.
“But everybody has a driver’s licence here! You need to learn how to drive! Just get it as a piece of ID at least!”
I bought a copy of the Ontario’s Official Driver Handbook for $14.95 and read it in my spare time—I didn’t speak much English so it was also a way to pick up new words.
One day, Feng took me to the drive test centre to book the written test. No appointment needed, I could take it right away!
“Wait… Seriously? I can just show up and take the test? I don’t need to be registered with a driving school, take classes for months and wait for a spot like in France?”
Apparently not. Indeed, getting a driver’s licence in Canada is a bit like a DIY project.
Thirty minutes and 40 multiple-choice questions later, I learned I had passed. I took the mandatory vision test, paid $159.75 (the fee includes the knowledge test, a Class G2 road test to earn the G2 licence and a five-year licence) and I was issued a G1 licence.
The G1 licence, the beginner driver licence designed to gain practice and experience over time, comes with a major restriction—you can only drive with a passenger who has held a full driver’s licence for at least four years. I didn’t mind. I mostly used my driver’s licence as a piece of ID.
In 2009, I got my first office job. I felt confident. I had my own office, a salary, a BlackBerry and an employee ID card that gave me free access to the Parliament and other restricted areas. I was grownup enough to take my G2.
I practised with an instructor and booked a test.
After driving around a residential neighbourhood for twenty minutes, then performing a three-point turn and the dreaded parallel parking manoeuvre, I was deemed skilled enough to—gasp—get a G2 licence and drive alone. I smiled (not for the picture, though) and gratefully upgraded my licence but Feng drove us home.
Where do people get the required confidence to operate a metal box racing at over 100 km per hour? It blows my mind. That said, I also find it quite weird a human being calls me “mommy” and that people pay me money to complete work they apparently can’t do—I constantly feel like an impostor.
I got behind the wheel when absolutely necessary. I drove Feng around various hospitals when Mark scratched his cornea. I operated the manual-transmission car we rented in France thanks to my French driving training. I drove to many malls with Mark when he was a baby.
Five years ago, I realized my G2 licence was about to expire. I should have taken the G test—except I chickened out and found a loophole, so I took the G2 test again. I passed and promised myself I would wait for the mandatory 12-month period to take my G test but that I would deal with it as soon as possible.
Oh, I waited alright—like five years. Life was busy, the weather was snowy but mostly I didn’t want to put myself in a position where I could fail.
Last September, I received a letter from the Ministry of Transportation. I immediately stuffed it in a drawer. I knew what it was. The five years were up—I had to take the final highway road test to get a full licence or lose my licence.
I toyed with the idea of taking the G2 test again to buy myself more time.
Then I looked at myself in the mirror, spotted new white hair, and told myself to grow the fuck up and take the proper road test.
(To be continued…)
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I like your blogs, I feel I’m reading about me in another life
😆 That’s actually a very nice thing to say! I like the idea we’re all connected beyond cultures and languages.
Hey, it’s the wrong accentuation on « Ministère ». A Doug Ford’s plot to destroy Franco-Ontarians!
I know! First thing I noticed when I got the letter.
So many bad translators 🙂
By the way, have I ever asked you how you’ll translate the following sentence in French :
“Do not set your air brakes” ?
There is a funny translation of it at the Erie border, but I’m curious about the translation process because thinking of it, I think there is a trick that a translator may not be aware of.
Spontaneously, at 1 a.m. and without doing research, I’d say “N’enclenchez pas votre système de freins pneumatiques”. However, if I had to translate this for a client, I’d ask for context because context is everything and frankly, I don’t think I ever had to set or not set air brakes 😀
Yes, context is important. This sign is on the commercial vehicule side, and it asks truck drivers not to set their parking brake when at the booth, because heavy trucks use a pressurised air system for braking, and set the parking brake release air and is pretty noisy. For the officer in the booth, it would be unbearable to hear that all day.
In Erie, the translation is completely dumb. It says:
« N’enclenchez pas vos aérofreins ». It’s at the airport is should be written.
Huh, funny, I didn’t have issues with the term “freins pneumatiques”, wouldn’t have even thought of aérofreins. That’s the problem when translators get the job done but don’t realize it’s grammatically correct but just doesn’t work.
Don’t tell me about unfinished business, I’m the queen of procrastination 😉 😀 😉 But I had my driving license at 18, I had been looking forward to it since I was a little child.
Did you live outside the city and need a car to get around? I find my friends who got their license at 18 are the ones who needed a car, no choice. On the other hand, my friends who lived in urban areas didn’t have the same urge.
Hubby and I got our licenses pretty late too (mid-twenties). We didn’t feel the need to have one when we were living in Montreal. However as soon as we arrived in a smaller urban area, in Ontario, we realized our lives would be much easier with a car (and the license to drive it). But with no experienced drivers in our immediate surroundings (our parents all living in different countries), it was hard to lawfully get driving practice with our G1 license… I think we both ended up paying for “lessons” at driving schools and somehow got our licenses with the minimum 20 hours of practice lessons (plus extra “cheating” practices in parking lots and country roads). 🙂
I find the graduated system isn’t very fair to newcomers who, like you mention, probably don’t have the time to gain experience with a licensed driver or simply don’t know anyone up for the task. I mean, you’re not going to ask your boss, right? It’s a system best suited for teens.
Fortunately, driving lessons are much, much less expensive than in France!
[…] story will make more sense if you read Part I […]