top of page
Search

8 Things We’ve Learned in 8 Years of Helping People Make Driving Decisions

Sep 30
7 min read
Dr. Terri Cassidy, CEO/Founder of Fitness to Drive, reflects on the 8th birthday!
Dr. Terri Cassidy, CEO/Founder of Fitness to Drive, reflects on the 8th birthday!

Eight years ago, Fitness to Drive began with a simple idea: driving is an important goal for many people, and occupational therapists have a unique role in helping them figure out whether—and how—that goal can fit into their lives.


As an occupational therapist working in the hospital, I saw how often driving came up in conversations with patients. For many people, getting back behind the wheel was one of their most important goals. I also realized that my training as an occupational therapist gave me a different perspective on driving. Rather than simply asking, "Can this person drive?" I wanted to ask,


"What does this person need to be able to do, where do they need to go,

and what role does driving play in the life they want to live?"


That client-centered philosophy became the foundation for Fitness to Drive.


Eight years later, what started with one occupational therapist and a one-room office has grown into four clinics and a team of 11. Every one of our occupational therapists is committed to helping clients determine the driving fit that makes sense for them.


Along the way, our clients have taught us a lot.


Here are eight things we've learned in eight years of helping people make driving decisions.


1. Independence Doesn't Mean Doing Everything on Your Own.


Driving is often seen as the ultimate symbol of independence: I can get where I need to go without asking anyone for help. But we've learned that independence and interdependence can exist together. All of us depend on other people in some way. We get rides from friends, ask family members for help, use public transportation, walk to nearby destinations, order groceries, or rely on someone else when we can't do something ourselves.


For some of our clients, independence means continuing to drive. For others, it might mean driving only familiar routes, having a family member drive for longer trips, or combining driving with other transportation options.


The goal isn't to define independence for someone else. It's to help each person figure out what meaningful independence looks like for them.


2. Confidence Grows Through Individualized Support.


Learning to drive takes skill, but it also takes confidence—and sometimes building confidence takes time.


One of our clients, a young woman with autism and ADHD, worked with me on and off for more than a year. She made progress, but she had a tendency to focus on everything she had done wrong during each session rather than recognizing what she had done well. When she took her driver's test for the first time, she didn't pass. She was devastated. But she kept going.


We did more training, worked through the areas that needed improvement, and she took the test again. The second time, she passed.


Today, she has been driving for a year. She drives to school, to work, and to spend time with her friends. Her success wasn't about suddenly becoming a different driver. It was the result of perseverance, practice, individualized support, and the confidence that developed along the way.


That experience has reinforced something we see again and again: individualized support isn't just about teaching someone how to operate a vehicle. It's about understanding how that particular person learns best and figuring out what will help them recognize their strengths as well as their challenges.


Sometimes one of the most important things we can help a new driver learn is not just how to drive, but "I can do this."


3. Neurodivergence and Driving Can Go Well Together.


We've learned that there is no single profile of what a "good driver" looks like.

People with autism, ADHD, and other forms of neurodivergence may learn differently, process information differently, or experience challenges with attention, sensory input, executive functioning, or multitasking.


But being neurodivergent does not automatically mean that someone cannot drive.


It may mean that the person needs a different approach to learning. That might include breaking skills into smaller steps, providing additional repetition, identifying strategies for specific challenges, or finding ways to make feedback more meaningful to the individual.


Our job isn't to decide whether someone fits a traditional picture of a driver. It's to understand the individual in front of us and help determine what is possible and what support may be needed.


4. Families Are Part of the Driving Conversation.


Driving decisions rarely affect just one person. Families may be worried about safety. They may encourage someone to keep driving when others have concerns—or they may be ready for someone to stop driving when that person isn't.


We've learned that families can be incredibly valuable partners when they are included in the process. My own family gave me a very personal perspective on this. My mom was one of our clients.


As a caregiver, I saw firsthand how difficult it was for her to stop driving and how hard she fought the decision. Driving represented so much more than transportation. But I also saw what happened when we looked beyond the question of whether she could drive.


We helped establish transportation and companionship services that gave her more opportunities for social contact and provided some much-needed help at home. Once the decision had been made and new routines were established, she was able to embrace them. Today, as dementia continues to take away some of her independence, she remains a loving presence to the people around her.


That experience reinforced something I had already seen in my professional work:


Sometimes the most important part of a driving decision

is figuring out what comes next.


5. There Is Life After Driving Cessation.


Helping someone stop driving can be one of the most difficult parts of our work.


A driver's license can represent freedom, identity, adulthood, responsibility, and connection to the community. Losing it can feel like losing much more than transportation. But we've learned that life after driving can still be full and meaningful.


It may require new routines and accepting help. It may mean arranging rides differently, using transportation services, walking to nearby destinations, or finding new ways to participate in activities. My mom's experience taught me this lesson in a very personal way.


The goal isn't simply to take something away.

It's to help build something that can take its place.


When we help someone transition away from driving, we want to ask:


  • How will you get where you need to go?

  • How will you stay connected to the people and activities that matter to you?

  • And what support will help you continue living the life you want?


Driving cessation is a significant change. But it doesn't have to mean the end of independence, connection, or purpose.


6. Driving Decisions Are Rarely a Single Moment.


One of the things we've learned over eight years is that driving decisions are rarely as simple as a single evaluation or a single conversation.


A person's abilities can change. Confidence can change. Their environment can change. Their transportation needs can change. New technology, adaptive equipment, training, or other supports can change what is possible.


For a new driver, becoming a confident driver may take months of practice and perseverance. For an older driver, the right answer may evolve over time as abilities or needs change.


That's why we don't think of driving as a simple "drive" or "don't drive" decision. Sometimes the process involves trying new strategies, practicing skills, reassessing abilities, changing driving habits, or exploring alternatives.


And sometimes the process is about gradually preparing for a transition away from driving. Our role is to help people navigate that process with good information, realistic goals, and support along the way.


A driving decision today doesn't necessarily have to define

what driving looks like forever.


7. A Driver's License Can Open Doors Beyond Transportation.


We've also learned that driving can have a profound impact on employment and opportunity.


One of our clients had low vision and never thought he would be able to drive. He had a good job, but his employment situation was limited by transportation. He could work at that particular job because his roommate also worked there and could provide transportation. He couldn't easily pick up extra shifts or change his work hours because he didn't have another reliable way to get there.


He eventually obtained bioptic lenses and completed individualized driver training. Being able to drive changed his vocational environment—and that change influenced other choices in his life. His story is a reminder that a driver's license isn't simply a card that allows someone to operate a vehicle. For some people, it can be a key that opens doors.


It can expand employment opportunities, make different work schedules possible, increase flexibility, and create options that weren't available before.


8. Driving Doesn't Have to Look the Same for Everyone.


Perhaps one of the biggest lessons we've learned is that driving is not one size fits all. Not everyone needs to drive everywhere.


Many of our older clients initially come to us thinking about driving as an all-or-nothing decision. But when we ask them to make a list of the places they actually need to go, something interesting often happens. They realize that many of the places that matter most are only a few miles from home.


The grocery store. The doctor's office. The pharmacy. The gym. A favorite restaurant. Church. A friend's house.


For some people, being able to drive within a five-mile radius can provide a tremendous amount of independence. That's why we often encourage a hybrid approach when it is appropriate: continue driving to nearby, familiar destinations while exploring transportation options for destinations that are farther away or more challenging.


The question doesn't always have to be: "Can I still drive everywhere?" Sometimes the better question is:


"Where do I need to go, and what kind of driving

will allow me to get there safely?"



Eight Years—and We're Still Learning.


When I look back at the past eight years, I'm incredibly grateful for the people who have trusted us to be part of some very important decisions in their lives.

We've grown but the most important part of Fitness to Drive hasn't changed.


We believe driving decisions should be about the person—

not just the diagnosis, the test, or the vehicle.


Sometimes that means helping someone become a more confident new driver.


Sometimes it means finding the right adaptations or training approach.


Sometimes it means helping an older adult continue driving safely to the places that matter most.


And sometimes it means helping someone find a new way forward after driving ends.


There isn't one right answer for everyone. There is only the question:


What is the best driving fit for this person, at this point in their life?


Thank you to the drivers and families who have trusted us, to the healthcare professionals and community partners who have supported our work, and to the incredible Fitness to Drive team who bring this philosophy to their work every day.


Happy 8th anniversary to Fitness to Drive.


Here's to eight years of helping people keep moving forward—and to all that we will continue to learn along the way.

 
 
 

Comments


bottom of page