My Teen Lesson - First Car Accident

(example image of the model/color of my actual car)

I can recall being 18 years old when I purchased my first car. My dad co-signed for me to get a brand new Hyundai, four-door hatchback. I was so proud of that car and drove it everywhere - putting 50,000 miles on it within the first 18 months.

One day, on my way to a job interview, I was getting off the freeway in San Jose at the Great America Parkway and an 80 year old woman, driving a massive Cadillac, ran a read light (at full speed) and plowed into my driver's side.

I caught a glimpse of her coming out the corner of my eye as I entered the intersection but it was too late. Shock, and slow reflexes prevented me from accelerating or reversing and I just threw my hands up towards my face to protect the glass that was about to shatter onto me. Her impact was so fierce she turned my car into a complete 180 and pushed me out of the intersection.

Luckily the car waiting at the light behind me was driven by an off-duty firefighter who suddenly was sitting in my backseat, holding my head against my headrest. Why? Because he saw me trying to climb out of my car via the passenger side so I could go curse the old lady out for hitting me. I didn't realize I was in shock, bleeding from the glass that had shattered into my hands, face and neck. He got into my backseat and pulled me back to my seat and sternly told me to sit still until the ambulance came. The entire time I was fussing and cursing the old lady who was sitting stunned (and completely unharmed) in her car.

The firefighter told me he'd seen the entire accident and the old lady was far behind the line when our light turned green but she kept coming, never hitting her breaks.

The ambulance came and they put me and the old lady in the same vehicle and drove us to Good Samaritan, refusing to take me to Kaiser because it was 'too far'. I overheard them complaining that they were almost off their shift and didn't want to drive that distance.

At the hospital, I was stuck in a hallway for hours before someone came to stitch up my hand and pluck the glass out of my face with tweezers. They forgot to call my emergency contacts and after six hours I demanded they let me go. I refused the stitches, and after they argued I'd have a scar if I didn't, I declared: "I really don't think someone's not going to marry me because I have a scar on the inside of my hand". At that, they discharged me and I called a friend to come pick me up.

In the end, my car was totaled out and I was shocked I hadn't been more injured based on how the car looked - the entire driver's side was smashed in. I lost out on the job opportunity because they considered me a 'no-show'. The craziest part? My insurance, State Farm, was the same as the old lady's so I was screwed in my settlement. My parents weren't of any help in guiding me through the process, it was all new to me so I didn't understand my rights, and so I accepted what they offered - $5,000. Not even enough to cover the full value of the car - leaving me to still have to pay off the balance owed.

Ah, the lessons we have to learn on our own.

Hair Story: Why Black Women Don't Swim - Essence.com

Hair Story: Why Black Women Don't Swim - Essence.com

This is an interesting article, however I wish they had gone more in-depth about this. The one thing I agree with is that we will not enter the water if we have just had our hair done at the salon. That is indeed the equivalent of buying a new pair of suede shoes and immediately walking out in the rain. Those shoes are either destroyed or you have a whole lot of work to do to get them back to decent order. The chlorine and the water itself removes any style, length, texture we had previously whether we have a relaxer or not. If our hair is natural and we've pressed our hair into a style, the water will destroy any work that was done and we would literally have to start over from scratch. If we are traveling, having to go through that process is almost impossible. Other cultures can shampoo, blow dry and they're done. That process cannot be accomplished with the average African American woman.

For me, you won't see me getting my hair wet unless I'm around people I feel EXTREMELY comfortable and safe with. The texture, length and quality just changes and I look like a completely different person. It's just not something I am comfortable putting out there for the world to see. I'm not ashamed of my hair but I understand there are those who are uncomfortable and judgmental about our hair and it's one of those situations you just want to keep 'in the family'. :) Our hair just doesn't respond to water like it does other cultures.