The road to responsibility
A young driver in the family is familiar ground for one couple, uncharted territory for another.
Duane D. Stanford - Staff
Thursday, December 7, 2000

For some parents, driving is a chance for their teenagers to learn responsibility. For others, it's a chance for their teenagers to die.

Of course for teens, driving is sweet freedom.

"I really don't think it's cool having your parents drive you around," said 16-year-old Scott Pett, a North Gwinnett High School sophomore.

Every day in Gwinnett County, these perspectives collide during countless conversations between parents and teenagers about driving, the king of all adolescent rites of passage.

After dinner. On the drive to church. At the kitchen table scarfing down cereal before school. These often complex negotiations factor in everything from finances to convenience and can seem to an eager teenager a little like debating the 11th Commandment --- thou shalt drive.

For parents, the struggle for balance between their teenagers' wills and the need to protect them isn't so clear-cut.

Just ask the Petts and the Phippses.

Friends for years, these Gwinnett couples have teenage boys and have worked out plans for handling when and what their sons will drive. The similarities stop there, however.

"I'm overprotective," admits Nora Pett, a homemaker and mother of six children. "I'm probably a tad paranoid."

Scott is the oldest and the first to reach driving age. Although Scott turned 16 last month, Georgia law says he can't get a driver's license until January, when he'll complete one year of driving with his learner's permit.

But that's nothing when it comes to passing the law imposed by Mom and Dad. One year or not, Scott has to log 100 hours of driving with his parents before he can get that cherished hard plastic ticket to freedom. Craig Pett, Scott's lawyer dad, keeps up with his son's hours on a Palm Pilot. Scott recently passed the halfway point.

Getting even that far hasn't been easy. Craig Pett is the only one who will drive regularly with Scott. Dad said he loves the bonding time with his son. Mom is less enthusiastic.

"He gets a little too much of an attitude with me when I drive with him," said Nora Pett, who makes no excuses for her protective nature over her children, "and I get a little too wacky."

Getting his driver's license won't entitle Scott to a car. The Petts say going from being chauffeured to having the tremendous freedom of your own wheels is too great a transition for a 16-year-old. Scott will have to earn money to pay for a car, and he will have to maintain a B average.

Scott is painfully aware of his mom's feelings about his fantasy car.

"She thinks if we get it we might go crazy with it. She's too protective," he said. "I might get a little crazy; I'll have fun. I'll try to be safe, though."

Even now, Scott's allowed to ride only with selected friends, including 17-year-old family friend David Phipps, who's more like a brother than a buddy.

A great motivator

Unlike the Petts, the Phippses bought son David a car.

It's a used 1990 Ford pickup truck. David and his friends call it "the red Ranger," with the nostalgia of cowboys talking about a good old horse --- one that never lets them down and could take them at any moment into the wild blue yonder.

The decision to buy the car was in some ways a practical move for the family. David --- a junior at Collins Hill High School --- plays soccer, runs cross country and attends Thursday youth meetings at church. It's more convenient for him to drive.

However, just as important to the decision was the Phippses' notion that driving fosters responsibility. It's also a great motivator, they said, because that which is given can be taken away.

"They lose privileges if they don't demonstrate responsible behavior," said Kevin Phipps, a vice president of property management for a commercial real estate company.

The Phippses pay for David's insurance and two tanks of gas per month. David, who works part time at a clothing store, covers any traffic tickets or damage to the car, as well as any insurance increases that come as a result.

"I do have one speeding ticket, but that was accidental," said David, who had to pay $103 for driving 85 in a 65 mph zone on the way home from a soccer tournament in Augusta.

David has watched two older brothers grow up with the same rules his parents set for him. His 22-year-old brother once lost his car for a month after an accident that was his fault.

David's parents are strict about curfew, too. His homemaker mom, Vicki Phipps, believes curfews are one of the best ways to judge a teenager's willingness to act responsibly. There is no room for error when it comes to being home by 10 p.m. on school nights and by midnight on weekends. When David gets home, he's required to wake Mom if she's asleep.

"Curfew is a really good test," Vicki Phipps said. "If you're not firm, they will try to move it."

Cars, cars everywhere

Scott Pett suspects his parents are so strict because he's their first child. He jokes that his 4-year-old sister will end up with a brand-new car of her choice.

Scott and David rattle off the names of kids at school who have new cars. One boy got a Jaguar. Another boy's father gave him a 2001 Mitsubishi Spider Eclipse convertible before the boy even took his driver's exam.

They say girls get new cars more often than boys, which doesn't seem fair to them.

"I think guys, they need cars, man. It's so much easier for a girl to get a ride from a guy," Scott said.

Despite the complaining, Scott does seem to appreciate his parents' struggle.

He and David both talk about the teens they see speeding around talking on cell phones, or peeling out to show off for girls. They know kids who have received DUIs.

Both also agree that teenagers should help pay for their cars so they'll better appreciate them, and they admit boys will be boys.

"You see them out acting stupid in their cars," said David. "You know they're going to get killed. You idiot."

Still, Scott said he wants the chance to prove to his parents that he's responsible enough to handle the freedom of a car.

The Petts are listening. Craig Pett said it would be difficult to say no to a car if Scott earned the money to buy it himself. He's intrigued with the idea of using his son's desire to drive as a way to keep him motivated.

And so the negotiations continue.

"It's a work in progress," Nora Pett said. "We're still working on the plan."