Fewer California teens get driver's licenses

Record numbers of California teenagers are saying "no thanks, maybe later" to what once was a rite of passage – scoring a driver's license.

Instead of jetting down to the DMV once they turn 16, most teens are content to ride shotgun with their parents a little longer, according to a Bee analysis of statewide license data.

The movement away from early driving is backed by a generation of self-acknowledged "chauffeur parents" who say they can keep a better eye on their kids by ferrying them from school to study dates and to the mall and movies.

It's not that teenagers have lost the desire for freedom that comes with that first set of wheels, young drivers said.

It may instead be a reflection of growing concerns about economics and the risks of early teen driving.

Lisa Sydnor of Sacramento waited until 19 to get her license, rather than deal with the hassle of driver's training, followed by $3.50-a-gallon gas and annual insurance premiums of more than $2,000.

"I was a procrastinator," Sydnor admits. "I didn't want to pay for lessons and I didn't really care."

For other teens, the streets look just a little too mean.

Fifteen-year-old Courtney Ceccato, a straight-A student at Sacramento City Unified's West Campus High School, would like a car for her birthday. If she gets one, though, mother's the likely driver.

"You can kill someone with a car," she said. "I don't want that responsibility yet."

Besides, she added, as she climbed into her mother's Lincoln Navigator, "My mom pretty much drives me all over the place."

Analysis of state data found only 14 percent of first-year eligible teens had a license in 2006, down from 22 percent in 1996.

That year, 102,000 16-year-olds took to the road. By 2006, even though the teen population hit a record, there were only 82,000 licensed 16-year-olds.

Only one-third of 17-year-olds had a license in 2006, down from 40 percent a decade earlier. And by age 18, when many teens are headed to college, almost half still had no license in 2006.

Similar trends are occurring nationwide.

Although it means there are fewer drivers at the highest risk for a crash, it also means there are more inexperienced 18-year-olds who get licenses without the training required of younger teens.

Statewide statistics support that supposition:

Although still high, the rate of serious crashes among 16- and 17-year-olds dropped in the last decade. But the rate for 18-year-old drivers has not.

Some analysts credit the drop among 16- and 17-year-olds to state laws enacted in 1998 and 2006 that place heavy restrictions on first-year drivers under age 18. Those laws prohibit driving after 11 p.m. and driving with other teens in the car.

Teens who start driving at 18 don't benefit from safer, phased-in approaches to learning on the road, Sean Comey of the California State Automobile Association warned.

Some teens said money is why they wait. In recent years, most public high schools have dropped driver education programs, forcing 16- and 17-year-olds to pay for required behind-the-wheel training. Those courses from private companies can cost several hundred dollars.

"Why spend it now if I can get a license for $27 (the DMV fee) when I'm 18?" asked Lindsey Marie Reese, a 17-year-old student at the Sacramento's Juveniles at Risk Learning Center.

She doesn't worry about skipping driver's training.

"Driving isn't rocket science," she said. "I've seen 14-year-olds drive."

Sen. Tom Torlakson, D-Antioch, argues that it's time for the state to reassert responsibility for producing better teen drivers. He's introduced Senate Bill 1114, which would add $10 to the DMV fee for first-time license applicants.

The money could be used to bring driver's education back into the schools, and possibly to help the Department of Motor Vehicles toughen its driving test.

Many parents, such as Courtney Ceccato's mother, Darice Ceccato, say they are glad their teens aren't rushing to get a license.

"My concern is her safety," Ceccato said, flipping through a magazine while parked in a queue of parents outside West Campus High School. "If I drive her, I know she's safe."

Ceccato said there is another hidden benefit – it gives her quality time with her daughter each day between home and school.

"I get to talk to my kid about what's going on at school," she said. "It's a great opportunity. She'll get in, and: 'Oh, Mom, you won't believe what happened today!' "

Down the curb, Pang Thao sat in the driver's seat of her Toyota Sequoia, chatting with her sister on the phone and listening to Hmong radio.

She said her 16-year-old son asks every day about getting a license. She says no.

Driving her children to school is her way of playing parental watchdog over their education.

"You know your kids won't ditch school," she said. "If they have their own car, they can get out. I'd rather drop off and pick up."

Simon Styrsky's mother has a different take – a bit more impatient.

Simon, 16, a student at Health Professions High School in Sacramento, is slowly making his way through an online driver's education course, but he says it's boring. "It's hard to stay focused."

His mother, Marita Styrsky, who shuttles him to and from school, is pushing him to get it done.

"It's time now," she said. "Time to let the little chick out."

About the writer:

• Call The Bee's Tony Bizjak, (916) 321-1059.