“Through thorny ways, leads to a joyful end…”
wrote Katharina von Schlege in 1752*.
Well, in the 2020s, Houston’s concrete mazes are a type of thorny way for this chick. I have not died while driving yet, but I am guessing I’m not the only one who feels like it could happen any day now.
To have the privilege of getting paid for doing something I enjoy, I bite the bullet to drive into Harris County, then scurry between schools all day. Occasionally, I congratulate myself for this traffic-survival stamina.
I did not get a driver’s license until I was 22, nor a car until I was 26; our first red Corolla. That was in a small Central NY city -- easy. Oh boy, when we moved to a county south of DC years later, it got real. When I ventured into DC for an event or get-together, I armed myself with a personally printed packet of Google Map directions (GPS was not reliable back then). There were wrong turns, panicked calls to my life partner, and traffic jam meltdowns. I decided not to waste those “hands-on-learning” opportunities. Instead, I collected new wisdom, such as--
A. Don’t back up without looking behind you.
B. Pull into a parking lot to recalibrate.
C. Audiobooks make it easier.
D. Merge like you mean it.
Fast forward to Texas. The first chunk of years here I got used to suburban mini-van driving. BORing. When I found the chance to branch into the specialty of teaching kids with visual impairments, I grabbed it. After some laser focus on graduate school, I accepted a job in “A Large Urban District”. Not BORing. GRITty.
This job demanded upping my driving game-the hard way--Just Do It, girl. It was 2021, of course GPS was a fixture. Admittedly, I had a personal relationship with “The Blue Line” for sure. The line and I embarked on our quest to bond with Houston so we could win the “I-can-drive-the-4th-largest-US-city” game!
Dear Houston....you are a bed of roses in so many ways, but your 365-day construction season, internationally experienced drivers, and ever-growing population do make for prickly pathways. Gotta take the cons with the pros, huh?
At first I only had to go one place per day. Tackled that, yep. Got cocky quick. But yes, pride comes before the fall. After a couple weeks, I had to navigate to appointments across Sunnyside, South Houston, and North Houston on a daily basis. In gratitude for the new gig, I did NOT want to screw up. The Pressure was on. Sharp thoughts cut into my concentration. One steamy Tuesday, after missing 610 repeatedly, the internal dialogue persisted: “It’s too hot, my AC sucks, Will I even make my arrival time? Where is that entrance to 610 west hiding? Why is that guy going so slow? Where did that truck come from?” "Can I really do this job?" all while trying to keep my little red car icon on the supposedly smart technology blue line.
I am no Saint. Just a survivor. Frustration was mounting. Then, suddenly, the secret ramp to 610 appeared! It looked like it was in one lane to the right, so I checked over my shoulder and made the lane change. Then I looked at the GPS. Oh no, my icon was veering off The Blue Line! I jerked my wheel to the left to line up again-victory was mi--
Scrrrrrape, screech, AAAAA, panic button, stop. Jolted out of satellite-GPS-land, I was back in REAL LIFE.
Heart pounding, I glanced over. I had just side-swiped a worn-down station wagon with a senior citizen at the wheel, cigarette dangling from her mouth, scarf on her head. We pulled into a gas station.
She stepped out of her vehicle, eyes so tired, shoulders shaking. I got out, head drooping. “Why’d you do that? Why’d you dooooo that to me” cried the woman, arms waving. As we walked to the damaged side of her vehicle, I asked, “Are YOU ok? I am so sorry, how can I help?” We looked at the scrape on her car and the dent in mine. We caught a breath.
She looked me up and down, then pleaded, “Lady, WHY’d you have to DO that?” I told the truth, “It was stupid, I was obeying the blue line instead of looking around me…..Here’s my insurance card. Are you hurt?” She slowly stopped shaking, examined my face, then relented, “You know what, I can tell you really are worried about me. You didn’t mean to, but you screwed up today….why’d it have to be TODAY? Aw, forget it, I got enough going on…”
“I am so sorry, I have to pay attention to the people more than the GPS. What do you need?”. “I gotta go pick up my granbaby. Just don’t look at that damn GPS anymore”. With that, she quickly got back in her car and continued on her way.
To this day, I still get goosebumps remembering her grace on my stupidity, stinging her nerves on a day she had so much life going on. That dent in my Prius whispers, “Reality over Digital, Lynn, don't rely on that GPS…”
Nowadays, when I drive around 610, 69, 288, 45… (you get the idea) fear stabs at me when people pass like they are playing Mario Kart or when crossing crazy-unpredictable lanes. Are we in a live game of Frogger here? I find myself auto-praying sometimes. My call to a higher power goes something like this: “AAAAhhh! Lord, please help! please no dying or hospitals today!” After the road noise fades, little joyful memories from my destinations add up: Dynamic kids, creative educators, resilient families, teamwork, and more.
Guess I’ll keep risking these thorny ways. Bring it on, Houston, one day at a time.
*from the hymn “Be Still My Soul”
Story and photo original by Lynn Jodeit Ouellette, 2025
wrote Katharina von Schlege in 1752*.
Well, in the 2020s, Houston’s concrete mazes are a type of thorny way for this chick. I have not died while driving yet, but I am guessing I’m not the only one who feels like it could happen any day now.
To have the privilege of getting paid for doing something I enjoy, I bite the bullet to drive into Harris County, then scurry between schools all day. Occasionally, I congratulate myself for this traffic-survival stamina.
I did not get a driver’s license until I was 22, nor a car until I was 26; our first red Corolla. That was in a small Central NY city -- easy. Oh boy, when we moved to a county south of DC years later, it got real. When I ventured into DC for an event or get-together, I armed myself with a personally printed packet of Google Map directions (GPS was not reliable back then). There were wrong turns, panicked calls to my life partner, and traffic jam meltdowns. I decided not to waste those “hands-on-learning” opportunities. Instead, I collected new wisdom, such as--
A. Don’t back up without looking behind you.
B. Pull into a parking lot to recalibrate.
C. Audiobooks make it easier.
D. Merge like you mean it.
Fast forward to Texas. The first chunk of years here I got used to suburban mini-van driving. BORing. When I found the chance to branch into the specialty of teaching kids with visual impairments, I grabbed it. After some laser focus on graduate school, I accepted a job in “A Large Urban District”. Not BORing. GRITty.
This job demanded upping my driving game-the hard way--Just Do It, girl. It was 2021, of course GPS was a fixture. Admittedly, I had a personal relationship with “The Blue Line” for sure. The line and I embarked on our quest to bond with Houston so we could win the “I-can-drive-the-4th-largest-US-city” game!
Dear Houston....you are a bed of roses in so many ways, but your 365-day construction season, internationally experienced drivers, and ever-growing population do make for prickly pathways. Gotta take the cons with the pros, huh?
At first I only had to go one place per day. Tackled that, yep. Got cocky quick. But yes, pride comes before the fall. After a couple weeks, I had to navigate to appointments across Sunnyside, South Houston, and North Houston on a daily basis. In gratitude for the new gig, I did NOT want to screw up. The Pressure was on. Sharp thoughts cut into my concentration. One steamy Tuesday, after missing 610 repeatedly, the internal dialogue persisted: “It’s too hot, my AC sucks, Will I even make my arrival time? Where is that entrance to 610 west hiding? Why is that guy going so slow? Where did that truck come from?” "Can I really do this job?" all while trying to keep my little red car icon on the supposedly smart technology blue line.
I am no Saint. Just a survivor. Frustration was mounting. Then, suddenly, the secret ramp to 610 appeared! It looked like it was in one lane to the right, so I checked over my shoulder and made the lane change. Then I looked at the GPS. Oh no, my icon was veering off The Blue Line! I jerked my wheel to the left to line up again-victory was mi--
Scrrrrrape, screech, AAAAA, panic button, stop. Jolted out of satellite-GPS-land, I was back in REAL LIFE.
Heart pounding, I glanced over. I had just side-swiped a worn-down station wagon with a senior citizen at the wheel, cigarette dangling from her mouth, scarf on her head. We pulled into a gas station.
She stepped out of her vehicle, eyes so tired, shoulders shaking. I got out, head drooping. “Why’d you do that? Why’d you dooooo that to me” cried the woman, arms waving. As we walked to the damaged side of her vehicle, I asked, “Are YOU ok? I am so sorry, how can I help?” We looked at the scrape on her car and the dent in mine. We caught a breath.
She looked me up and down, then pleaded, “Lady, WHY’d you have to DO that?” I told the truth, “It was stupid, I was obeying the blue line instead of looking around me…..Here’s my insurance card. Are you hurt?” She slowly stopped shaking, examined my face, then relented, “You know what, I can tell you really are worried about me. You didn’t mean to, but you screwed up today….why’d it have to be TODAY? Aw, forget it, I got enough going on…”
“I am so sorry, I have to pay attention to the people more than the GPS. What do you need?”. “I gotta go pick up my granbaby. Just don’t look at that damn GPS anymore”. With that, she quickly got back in her car and continued on her way.
To this day, I still get goosebumps remembering her grace on my stupidity, stinging her nerves on a day she had so much life going on. That dent in my Prius whispers, “Reality over Digital, Lynn, don't rely on that GPS…”
Nowadays, when I drive around 610, 69, 288, 45… (you get the idea) fear stabs at me when people pass like they are playing Mario Kart or when crossing crazy-unpredictable lanes. Are we in a live game of Frogger here? I find myself auto-praying sometimes. My call to a higher power goes something like this: “AAAAhhh! Lord, please help! please no dying or hospitals today!” After the road noise fades, little joyful memories from my destinations add up: Dynamic kids, creative educators, resilient families, teamwork, and more.
Guess I’ll keep risking these thorny ways. Bring it on, Houston, one day at a time.
*from the hymn “Be Still My Soul”
Story and photo original by Lynn Jodeit Ouellette, 2025
