How I Learned to Drive

Director's Note

I first encountered How I Learned to Drive when I took the Introduction to Theatre class in my sophomore year. The story struck me not only because of the sensitive subject matter, but how real it felt. 

There was something about the first scene, a backroad in Maryland, dark fields and cicadas, the stars shining above, that completely drew me in. As I sat in the car with Peck and Li'l Bit, I felt like throwing up, wanted to close my computer screen, to escape. But I couldn't. I needed to know why.

According to the CDC, 1 in 4 girls and 1 in 13 boys in the US experience sexual abuse, and 91% of perpetrators are someone familiar and trusted by the child or the child’s family members.  Survivors of child sexual abuse carry lasting consequences including post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), depression, substance abuse, and increased risk of suicide.

In the post-"me too." era, over 60 years after this story begins, and 20 years after it first premiered, How I Learned to Drive remains relevant. It seems that every week another powerful figure is exposed for sexual harassment or worse. TV executives, presidents, financers, and Supreme Court justices have had allegations brought against them. It is easy to label these individuals as the only issue when, in reality, the larger issue lies in the culture and people that fail to protect the vulnerable.  

This is just one individual's story, and Li'l Bit's journey isn't linear. In many recovery processes, especially recovery from sexual trauma, there is a focus on transition from identifying oneself as a victim, to identifying oneself as a survivor. This is not a tragedy; it is a story of survival. 

Li'l Bit is a survivor, and she has a story to tell; thank you for allowing her voice to be heard.