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The Jury’s Still
Out: Adventures in Jury Duty
My
significant other is always asking me to write something for the
Manifesto, the problem is I don’t ever feel like I have anything worth
writing about. I keep thinking that I will write once I have
something out of the ordinary to write about. I guess that something
was jury duty.
If you
are like me, when you think of jury duty you think about O.J.
Simpson. I was only like 14 or 15 when O.J. happened, but my dad was
a devoted follower of the case, so I think that I probably learned
more about the case than your normal teen.
When I
received my summons to Salt Lake City Justice court, I was about 60
percent annoyed, 40 percent curious. Having not really had any
exposure to a real-life court, I was interested to how the wheels of
justice really turn. I received a letter telling me that I had to
call a phone number every night for a week to find out if I would be
one of the lucky chosen ones. I almost made it through the week
without having to report, but on Thursday night I heard the robot lady
on the other end of the line tell me I was “required” to report the
next day.
I
arrived at the courthouse a few minutes before 8:30 a.m. and the
waiting began. We all sat around and waited until about 8:50, when we
moved from a waiting room to a courtroom. Here we had to watch a
movie starring real people from like 1988 talking about jury duty. My
only thought about the movie was that somebody should find the woman
being interviewed guilty of crimes against fashion for the shoulder
pads she was sporting. My favorite part of the movie - which
comprised about 50% of the movie – was the various people talking
about why we shouldn’t feel bad if we are not chosen. Apparently Miss
Shoulder Pad’s confidence was really shaken when she wasn’t chosen and
she had to go through a lot of soul searching and questioning as to
why she wasn’t picked for the team. She was telling us that it was
alright, and that it doesn’t mean anything - left over scarring from
not getting asked to the high school prom anyone?
Once
we finished this super-helpful video, we were told that we wouldn’t
have any major cases like murder or kidnapping. After we filled out a
form asking our name, birthday, job and what newspapers and magazines
we read, we were all marched to the cashiers to collect our $18.50.
After breaking the bank, we were treated to a lot more sitting.
After
a very long while (and a boring conversation with one of my fellow
potential jurors), we were told to follow the bailiff upstairs to
another courtroom. When we arrived, we were told that this was a DUI
case. We listened to another speech from the judge (which included a
spiel about not feeling bad if we weren’t chosen - how sad it must be
for those whose confidence rests on whether or not they are selected
for jury duty) about our role as possible jurors.
The
judge then asked us a lot of questions as a group. If the answer to
any of them was yes, we had to raise our hand. I noticed that the two
lawyers had a little chart with each of our names. As we answered
questions, the lawyers would make notes about us on the chart. Since
it was a DUI case, the judge asked if anyone in the pool (or someone
close to them) had been pulled over for DUI. I was slightly
embarrassed for those who raised their hand and had to respond that
they had been pulled over for DUI. We were also asked if there was
anyone in the pool who didn’t drink for religious, moral or health
reasons. I got to raise my hand on that one, and that may have been
the question that got me eliminated. Or it may have also been the
fact that I was on the end of the row next to the wall and spent part
of the time sitting with my head resting against the wall.
The
wheels of justice may turn, but not very swiftly, and I was tired,
having already been there for three hours. I kind of think that my
laziness may have been a real turnoff for the lawyers. Maybe they
thought “Not only does she not drink, but she’s lazy, too- maybe too
lazy to even drive at all” and crossed me off.
Whatever it may have been, I didn’t get chosen to sit on the panel of
four jurors. So I took my $18.50 and got on the TRAX and came home.
In retrospect, a part of me is glad that I didn’t get chosen, because
even though it wasn’t a “major” case, it was probably pretty major to
those involved and I don’t know if I want to be responsible for how
that decision. Another part of me was still mildly interested in
being involved in an actual court case. Oh well. At least I didn’t
have be sequestered at the Shilo Inn or something.
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