Good girls do - know what's under their car's hood
The owner of Girls Auto Clinic drives home the importance of caring for cars by likening a vehicle engine to a vagina.

THE OWNER of Girls Auto Clinic drives home the importance of caring for cars by likening a vehicle engine to a vagina.
"The main function of oil is to lubricate your engine," Patrice Banks tells the women who attend her monthly automotive-maintenance workshops. "If you notice, when your car needs an oil change, it runs a little rough.
"But when you get it changed, it runs a lot smother. It's because you have fresh lubrication in there. The engine likes that. Your engine wants to be able to move with ease."
Thanks to that anatomical analogy, I'll never, ever procrastinate again on getting the oil in my car changed.
That's what's novel about Banks' approach to cars. She explains things in common, everyday terms that don't make your eyes glaze over.
In Banks' world, air filters are like nasal hairs. Neglect to change the air filters in your car and you'll get "boogies," to borrow her terminology. The color of clean engine oil resembles apple juice or wine, she tells her classes.
And get this: She teaches her automotive workshops while wearing what are becoming her trademark - red stilettos.
Recently, Banks, 34, and I sat down on a wooden bench outside Keller's Auto & Truck Repair, in Roxborough, where she works as a part-time automotive technician (not in high heels), to discuss why there can be such a disconnect when it comes to women and their vehicles.
It's ironic, when you consider that women make the majority of car buying and maintenance decisions, according to the Car Care Council, an industry website.
"A lot of women feel intimidated," Banks explained, then let me in on a little secret: "Men don't know this stuff, either."
She was coming out of the gym the other day and "saw two guys trying to jump-start a car and they were doing it wrong."
Did she help them? Nah, she knew better.
"They just think, 'You're a woman. What do you know?' "
Banks is emblematic of a new breed of media-savvy female automotive experts who focus on educating consumers along with vehicle maintenance.
We sure need that more than ever, now that National Public Radio's Tom Magliozzi, who co-hosted the long-running "Car Talk" program with his brother, Ray, has died. The show was in reruns for the last two years, but I still listened. I used to have an old car and it had all kinds of issues the brothers could explain. But more than that, I tuned in for their unique, folksy charm.
In addition to the free, monthly, women-only classes she teaches at various locations, Banks last month self-published a glove-box book that explains in simple, clear language such things as what transmission fluid looks like - it's either pink or red - and what to look for during oil checks. (The oil shouldn't be dark.)
Raised in Phoenixville by a single mother, Banks grew up in a family that didn't have a car. She studied engineering in college and, after graduating in 2002, took a job as a corporate failure analyst at DuPont.
Despite her technical background, she was a self-described auto airhead, ignorant of even basic routine car maintenance - and fearful of being taken advantage of when she'd finally bring her car in to the shop.
One day after trying and failing to find a local female mechanic, Banks got an idea: She would become an auto mechanic herself.
In 2012, she enrolled in the automotive program at Delaware Technical Community College, taking classes after work. She got rid of her late-model Kia Sorrento and bought a hoopty - a 2000 Toyota Camry she could fix up.
Banks also came up with the concept for the Girls Auto Clinic and began plotting ways to break down barriers in the historically male-dominated automotive industry. In January, Banks took a leap and quit her six-figure job to work part time as an automotive technician at Keller's.
She'd met owner Bill Keller through one of his customers, and spent several months shadowing Keller before he hired her.
"I was at work [at DuPont] every day [but] thinking about Girls Auto Clinic, and I felt bad," she recalled. "I felt corporate America was holding me back, to be honest."
Still, it was some kind of leap to leave that world.
"It's scary. There're definitely times when I wake up at 2 o'clock in the morning to say, 'What am I doing?' "
She's considering buying her own shop in West Philly, not far from where she lives. Meanwhile, there's her monthly Girls Auto Clinic to teach. (To reserve a spot in the next class, on Nov. 15, go to girlsautoclinic.com.)
"I'm confident that I can change a tire," said Lisa Dougherty, a stay-at-home mom who attended one of Banks' workshops. "I know how to check my oil now. I know how to check my fluids. . . . I know a lot more than before I took her class."
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