The other morning I was driving down Highway 96 towards downtown Franklin. I moved into the left-hand lane, past Alexander Square and then noticed that the car in the right lane beside me was easing over toward my car, into my lane. No turn signal was flashing so I didn’t think he wanted to get into my lane, plus he wasn’t looking at me or the lane, like one does when one is trying to change lanes. Looking straight ahead, he pulled back into his lane, and then a few seconds later, was drifting into my lane again. No eye contact. I wondered if he was distracted because he was messing with stuff—you know, coffee, phone, children and that was the reason why he kept nosing into my lane. His “left lane drift” happened a couple of times more, when all of the sudden, his car roared ahead of me like at a NASCAR race, crossing into the left lane in front of me, and then crossing more lane over into the left turn lane. Now he glanced at me, glaring with an expression of disgust and threw up his arm as if to say, “What is wrong with you?” I noted, by the way, that as he made his left turn onto Mack Hatcher, that he didn’t use his left turn signal there either.
Well, I am not the best driver in the world but I know that if that man had simply used his turn signal when he was in the right lane, I would have let him pull in front of me. In the absence of a clear signal, however, and not even a physical clue (you know how in a desperate lane change moment, some people will wave, or wildly point at your lane when they want to change lanes? ), I assumed that he wanted to stay in the right lane.
What intrigued me about this entire incident was—after he finally changed lanes—how very sure that man seemed to be that he was right and I was wrong. Based on his reaction, he assumed his drifting into my lane was a clear signal of intent. I imagine that he arrived at his office or appointment fussing about this dumb woman who refused to let him change lanes even though he made his intentions perfectly obvious!
We humans are really no better at giving clear signals in our everyday relationships. We will throw out subtle signals, like drifting into someone else’s lane, and wonder why the driver doesn’t get our message. “I thought you could tell I had a bad day; I have been moping around the kitchen since I came home.” “You should have realized I wasn’t feeling well when I laid down on the couch.” “I made it perfectly obvious that I didn’t like that idea.” Southerners often pride themselves on giving off signals that are meant to be understood without speaking a word but I’ll confess that even though I’m from the South, I really don’t care much for ambiguity. I had a woman tell me once that she didn’t believe that I was from the South because I was far too blunt!
But clear signals don’t to be abrasive and harsh, just clear—as clear as using a turn signal. “I’d like to shift into the right lane.” “I’d like to lie down for a few minutes because I’m not feeling well.” “Could you lower the volume on the television, it’s hurting my ears?” “I had the worst day today.”
Admittedly, using clear signals in our relationships with each other is not the easiest thing to do—using a turn signal in a car is easier! We’d love it if our friends or family or co-workers could pick up on our intentions as easily as one can smell cookies baking in the kitchen. But chances are, they’ll be like I was as that man drifted and eased into my lane without a clear signal—thinking of every reason why he’d be drifting toward me except the real reason he wanted me to pick up on without a signal.
Which leads me to my final thought: maybe we need to develop signs which clearly communicate our intentions. When you see a car with a gas cap that hasn’t been re-attached, haven’t you wished you could hold up a sign which says, “Check Gas Cap”? Or when someone follows too closely behind you in traffic, to have a sign which pops up in the rear windshield, “Please back off.”
So what if we had those signs in our everyday life? We walk into the office carrying a sign that says, “My mind is a little fuzzy because the baby kept me up all night.” Or we arrive home wearing these words, “I need to talk about my awful day.” In the absence of signs, though, we’ll have to rely on clear signals and unambiguous communication. The Apostle Paul said it well when he said, “ Speak the truth in love.” Speak the truth (give a clear signal) in love (with regard for the other person’s feelings). With that in mind, both our traffic situation and our human situation might greatly improve!
.
Clear Signals
September 26, 2011 by Sally Hughes
Advertisement
This was exactly what I needed to hear today, Sally. Thank you!