It begins as a simple loop around the campus: a golf cart, a few stops and the occasional wave from someone looking for a ride.
Driving a golf cart at John Carroll University is not just about transportation. It is about conversation, connection and the unexpected moments that unfold in between.
I did not set out to become a golf cart driver. The suggestion came from the director of Fine Arts, who pitched the idea as both a practical service and something fun. That combination is difficult to turn down. Next, I was figuring out how to get behind the wheel of one of the most recognizable vehicles on campus.
There is a certain fascination with the role. A golf cart carries just enough authority to make people wave you down, but not enough to intimidate anyone. It sits somewhere between utility and novelty. That balance makes it easier for people to strike up a conversation, even if the ride only lasts a few minutes.
There is also a process. Drivers must be approved before operating a cart, which includes a review of safety procedures and basic training by JCU’s director of Regulatory Affairs and Risk Management. There are no major fees or high-pressure exams, but there is an understanding that the responsibility is real. You are not just driving, you are navigating a shared space filled with pedestrians, conversations and constant movement.
Driving a golf cart is different from driving a car. A car creates distance. Windows are up, doors are closed and interactions are limited. A golf cart does the opposite. It is open, slower and more connected to what is happening around it. Drivers hear conversations, notice details and often become part of the moment rather than passing through it.
Over the course of a single shift, the cart becomes a moving snapshot of campus life. Students climb aboard to get across a little faster, often bringing quick observations about classes, campus events or the pace of the day. Faculty members step in with a different perspective, reflecting on how the campus has evolved. Each ride is brief, but rarely forgettable.
One of the most memorable moments came from a group of five older women who waved me down with a clear idea in mind: Pizzazz on the Circle, located a stone’s throw away off the campus. Their request was simple: a ride as close as possible to the restaurant.
Campus access limits how far the cart can go. The destination mattered, but the journey carried its own weight.
On another trip, two older women offered an observation that was as unexpected as it was memorable.
“You’re a good hearse driver,” one said, prompting immediate laughter from both of them.
It was not a comment typically associated with campus transportation, but it captured something essential about the experience: People feel comfortable enough in that space to say exactly what is on their minds.
Moments like these define the role in ways that go beyond its basic function. The golf cart becomes a place where humor, reflection and spontaneity intersect. It is a setting where individuals who might not otherwise interact share a few minutes of conversation.
In a campus environment, often defined by busy schedules and constant movement, those moments stand out.
The rides are short. The conversations are brief. Together, they form a larger picture of a community in motion, one that is willing to pause, even briefly, to connect.
While the route may stay the same, the experience does not.
It is not just about getting from one point to another. It is about everything that happens along the way.
This article was written for The Plain Dealer and cleveland.com.
