Jury duty, duly done

I just spent the better part of a day on jury duty. Amazingly, I had never been called for jury duty in my many years—except once in Massachusetts when we were in the process of packing to move. I got excused from that one, since I wouldn't be in the state on the appointed day.

So this was a totally novel experience for me. Unlike many folks, I actually wanted badly to be on a jury, to witness the process from start to finish. I wasn't concerned about the time it would take. I can make time for such things—time is one of the great benefits of retirement. And I don't at all resent this particular use of my time. I really believe that it’s important for us all to serve. 

One of my volunteer gigs brings me into the company of lots of folks who were not born here and who have tales of their nations of origin. Their stories aren’t the horror stories of ‘disappearances’ and torture, but everyday stories of how ‘justice’ is served. I know our system is not perfect. I know jury duty can be a pain in the tail, a disruption in the flow, an interference in things that seem important. It can also be boring, I suppose. But I found the process really interesting. And it sure beats generals or dictators or local power lords deciding who’s right and wrong.

Sitting in the courtroom with the other prospective jurors, it was clear to me that this case would be decided by everyday folks. We might question their judgment, but they are exactly the “peers” that the framers of the Constitution imagined. They are not generals or dictators or (presumably) the agents of generals and dictators. They are citizens like you or me who will have the task of deciding matters of great import. I celebrate this system, even as I know that it has flaws and deserves continuous scrutiny. So, I was eager to do this and completely willing—actually, happy—to devote my time to it.

We started with an instructional video that was actually very informative--which, as you know, is not always the case. In retrospect, it was as much an inspirational/motivational video as an instructional one. Someone feeling cynical about the whole thing might have found it awful. But given my frame of mind that morning, it worked for me. So, I was delighted when I was randomly selected as part of a group who would go through the next phase of screening to actually sit on a jury. I was delighted again when I was among the sub-group randomly chosen to be interviewed by the judge and then the attorneys. 

I didn’t think much about it when we were each asked to give information about ourselves that included education, degrees, occupation (or, if retired, former occupation), and other tidbits: What do you read? What do you listen to on the radio? What do you watch on TV? I was disappointed when they didn’t ask me anything during the questioning process.

The message that each side would try to convey was easy enough to read behind the lawyers’ questions. They were already making their case: “Do you believe that sometimes women can assault men as well as vice versa?” “Do you believe that because someone can’t remember details, that means it didn’t happen?” (Questions about details of football games were used to make this point. The other attorney pointed out that this wasn’t a matter of a football game; it was a question of people’s lives. Right on!) These hints piqued my curiosity, and I grew more interested in hearing this case.

When they read the names of those who would be seated on the jury, my name wasn't among them. I knew I wanted to do this, but I was surprised at how deflated I felt. Actually, I was ambivalent. It was a domestic violence case, and I didn't particularly want to listen to the details of that sort of story for three days. But it’s true that I was also disappointed. I wondered if my degree and my profession made them scratch my name from the beginning. Who needs a PhD psychologist, much less a professor, on a jury? Can’t you just imagine the lectures in the deliberation room? The psychoanalyses of the attorneys, the witnesses, the defendant, the plaintiff? Of course, that misreads what “psychologist” means in my case, but this is the best reason I can come up with for why they eliminated me. It can't be something I said because they never asked me anything. Oh, well ...

Still, I got to see a large part of the process of creating a jury. I’m really grateful for that.

Next time, I want my turn to be among “a jury of my peers.”