One of the factors that make being a driving instructor so enjoyable is the fact that all my pupils are different. Sounds like a bit of a cliché, but it’s true. As well as being different characters, they all progress at different rates. And where one pupil might learn parallel parking, for example, very quickly, the next pupil may struggle for hours with it. Consequently, I have to be flexible and try different teaching methods to suit each individual pupil. Recently I wrote about having a lot of success with Q&A. For example, with parallel parking I might ask them where (and why) they should initially position their car. Then I would ask them how other road users will know what they intend to do. Next I would ask how they could be sure it safe to reverse. What problems are caused by steering too early/late? How will they know when to straighten up? How quickly could the situation change around them? What can they do if things start to go wrong? And so on. I can ask some pupils these questions and then say “Right, off you go…” and they will think themselves through the whole manoeuvre, with maybe the occasional prompt from me. Unfortunately, this will not work with every pupil. Some respond better to me drawing diagrams of what will/could happen, and sometimes it helps a pupil for me to jump in the driver seat and demonstrate how it should be done (hopefully). But when I feel that a pupil is not quite understanding a particular point I always ask ‘Why?’ we would do something. Once they know ‘why’ they can often work out ‘how’.
Every now and then I get a pupil who, despite my best efforts, persists with a fault. That is when this job can get frustrating. Last year I took on a new pupil, with very nice, enthusiastic parents. The pupil was the opposite - He was sullen, would grunt when I asked him questions and was lazy. I got the impression that he was spoilt and always got whatever he wanted. If his parents wanted to spend hundreds of pounds on his lessons that was their problem. Gradually his driving progressed, but he was such a lazy git I would always have to instruct him to look all around the car before moving off or reversing. I tried Q&A, diagrams. I would take him to a car-park to watch other drivers and ask him what could happen if a particular driver had not checked before moving. Nothing. It got to the point where I would keep my foot on the dual-control brake until he had made effective observations. For 99.99% of pupils, the penny would drop and they would realise that it was actually in their interest to do what I was asking him to do. Not him. Finally, I did the only thing I could - I dumped him on another instructor. I thought he might respond better to a lady instructor but, if he didn’t, then Susan would probably be quite happy to give him a bigger kick up the backside than I would. To my knowledge, he has still not passed his test and his poor parents are continuing to pay out hundreds of pounds a month for their precious son’s lessons.
As much as I try to progress a pupil by using the carrot, rather than the stick, sometimes extreme measures are called for. A couple of years ago I had a pupil who, although he was quite competent, was negligent in his use of mirrors. He failed his first attempt at the driving test for picking up too many minor faults for (lack of) ‘use of mirrors before changes of speed or direction’. In other words, he could not know whether someone was overtaking him before he accelerated or turned right, and he had no idea whether there was a big juggernaut behind him before braking. He went ahead and booked his second attempt on a day/time that I was not available. Rather than have to wait for a later test, I asked Wayne (another BSM instructor) if he could take him for test.
“Any problems?” asked Wayne.
“No, apart from the fact that he still isn’t checking his mirrors as much as he should be. You would have thought he would have learned his lesson after the first test.”
Wayne picked him up an hour before his test. After half an hour, Wayne said “Ok. If you could turn around and head back home. I’ll drop you off as there is no point going for your test.”
“What?” said my pupil.
“Well, despite what Martin has instructed you and despite you failing your last test for that very reason, you are still not checking your mirrors, so there is no point going for a test you will certainly fail.”
The pupil promised to check his mirrors, so Wayne took him for his test. He passed, but still with several mirror faults and I doubt very much that he checks them even now.
While these rare pupils are a minor frustration, at the other end of the scale is a pupil who listens and really wants to learn, but struggles. When it finally ‘clicks’ for them is a highlight almost as satisfying as a pupil passing their test.
When I very first became an instructor I had a pupil who just could not steer. I began to doubt that I was the right instructor for her. I spent six hours in a big, quiet car-park, trying to get her to steer in a figure-8 while I controlled the pedals. I remember thinking, at one point, that I had cracked the problem when she managed to use ‘push-pull’ steering to turn the car to the right.
“Very good,” I encouraged, “now I would like you to start steering to the left.” At which point she simply let go of the wheel.
It took some time, but I never forget how proud I felt when she finally began driving around roads and junctions with confidence.
A few weeks ago I was recommended to a brand-new pupil who knew nothing about driving. She only wanted an hour’s lesson to start with. I would rather they have a two hour lesson when they are complete novices because otherwise, after learning about the cockpit drill, controls and how to move off and stop, they won’t get to do much driving on their first lesson.
So that first hour I told her as much as I could on the drive from her house to the quiet road I wanted to start her on. After going through everything she needed to know before starting, we only had about fifteen minutes to practice moving off/stopping.
“I don’t want to do it.” she protested.
Despite reassurances, offers of me demonstrating and more instruction, she still did not want to actually move the car. End of lesson.
The next lesson was a two hour one and I drove her to a very quiet car-park. Finally, after instruction, diagrams and demonstrations, I got her moving the car forward a short distance before she panicked and asked me to stop. By the end of those two hours I had her driving around the car-park (with very good steering) and even changing between first and second gears when appropriate.
I wanted to build on that for yesterday’s lesson, so we returned to the car-park and repeated the previous lesson for forty minutes. That went well until, somewhere in the distance, she would spot another car or a pedestrian, at which point she would take her hands off the wheel and her feet off the pedals. I demonstrated how gently holding the brakes could give her more time if she was unsure about a situation and, gradually, her confidence grew.
After much reassurance, and a very slow demonstration drive by me, I persuaded her that she could apply the skills she had learned to driving on some quiet roads. She sat in the driver’s seat and then spotted a van in the distance.
“There’s a van.”
I got out my telescope and was able to confirm that, yes, there was a van.
“Have you started the car yet?”
“No.”
“Do you think that van could still be a problem by the time we are ready to go?”
“………..no.”
She prepared the car, all the time turning her head, looking for any possible hazards, despite my reassurances that we need not worry about them until we were ready to go. Finally she had selected 1st gear, set the gas, found the biting point and had her hand on the handbrake. She then started huffing and puffing as though she was at a pre-natal class. The road was deserted. The seconds passed.
“There’s a car coming.” She said.
I got out of the car, put my ear to the ground and had to agree that, somewhere within a few miles of us, there was another car.
“Will you affect anyone by moving off now?” I asked.
“No….. but I don’t want to do it.”
“That’s fine. But, if we wait, the road might get busier.”
“No. I don’t want to do it. I know I have to. I really want to learn but……” her voice trailed off.
Carol, an instructor from Manchester, informed me that she once had a pupil who took 6 hours to move AT ALL. So I shouldn’t worry too much. In fact, I am not at all worried. Carol’s pupil passed first time and I often find that many pupils who are slow to start with become very good drivers.
So we will keep at it. Back to the car-park next week and I think we will stay there until she asks me if she can go out on the road (I will say ‘yes’). It may take a little while, but I so look forward to the day when her driving makes my heart burst with pride.
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