March 1, 2007
(Matt)
I spent the entire day yesterday on a court-summoned field trip to learn about our criminal justice system. This was a new world of discourse for me, and I really became aware of the fact when I made it through the metal detectors at about 7:30 am, went up the stairs and down a long hallway, and happened to overhear a rough-looking man huddled in the corner saying into his cellphone, (imagine a deep, shadowy voice here) “Well, if the game won’t change, then the players will just have to change the rules . . .”. I have only the wildest thoughts about what such a phrase might mean within the context from which it was spoken. Anyway, it was clear that the “game” I would be playing throughout the day as a juror-in-waiting was going to be far different than the life I usually live as a normal citizen.
In the jury room, over 280 people were gathering as hopeful chosen’s for the days trials. I tried to read and look preoccupied so that no one would talk to me in the big jury room, but it didn’t work. The girl who sat down next to me noticed me reading and asked me if I was a student. The question turned out to be more of an introduction to her own autobiography, which began with the opening strategy of shock: “It’s no fun when you’re three years old and your mom has brain surgery and you try to jump on the bed to keep her from getting up and she throws you onto the floor and you hit your head.” What does one say to such a statement? I had to agree that the times this situation has happened to me, it has indeed been no fun. Sadly, my name was called as part of an 80-person jury selection panel, and I had to say goodbye to my new awkwardly self-revealing friend.
The jury selection process might be compared to the standard part of a game show where the host asks the contestants to tell a little bit about themselves, except that in the courtroom, the host throws out the contestants if he doesn’t like their answers. Well, and also, the questions from host to contestant deal with criminal background and presuppositions about guilt and innocence. Oh, and also the contestants do not WANT to be on the show (for the most part) and keep trying to find excuses to NOT play the game. Watching this process from the audience, I felt myself feeling both a perverse curiosity about the intimate details of these strangers’ lives and a profound sense of entertainment as judge, lawyers, and reluctant jurors put on a sensational show.
The real highlights of the day were the “show-stoppers”. These are the jurors-to-be who, for whatever reason, feel that the courtroom setting is their time to shine. Most lines of questioning take about five or six minutes; the “show-stoppers” get about thirty. I think that everyone in the audience had a favorite “show-stopper”, but mine was “Maria”, the woman with “two Master’s degrees, your honor”, who initially asked to be excused because (and this is her logic faithfully represented) she lived in the same town where the crime took place and jogged every morning around the track in her neighborhood with two black women. After about ten minutes of clarifying questions, neither the judge nor anyone else in the courtroom was any closer to figuring out what in the world this lady was saying. But it got better.
Although Maria (not her real name, for reasons you’ll soon see) grudgingly acquiesced to the judge’s order for her to take a place in the jury box, she was not through developing her argument. When the judge asked if anyone had a predisposition morally against the defendant, Maria said, “I think I do.” During the next twenty minutes, Maria revealed the following facts in support of her argument: 1) She was college counselor. 2) She jogged around the track in her neighborhood with two black women (yes, I know, but she said it again). 3) She married “an Asian”. 4) All the male students at her college seemed to love her. 5) She had a “gift” for being objective. 6) She thought that the defendant had a “system” in place that would find out where she jogs in her neighborhood if she was on the jury. 7) She prayed every night to be safe because she was a Christian.
Fortunately, the judge was able to hone in on Maria’s primary concern, and asked: “Excuse, me, Mrs. ____, but are you afraid that someone in this courtroom will retaliate against you if you are on the jury?” Yes, Maria, admitted, although she reiterated her gift at being “objective.” “What kind of TV shows have you being watching, Mrs. ______?” the judge wanted to know. So, it turns out that Maria believed (objectively) that because the defendant had looked at her as she took her place in the jury box, he was memorizing her name and face and preparing to send out hitmen from his “system” to “take care of her” while she slept—or perhaps jogged with her two black friends. Amazingly, Maria made it onto the final jury and was only dismissed at the last minute by a peremptory charge from the prosecuting attorney.
As for me, my own time in the spotlight was much less dramatic. I watched the pool of 62 “leftover” jurors dwindle as more people found excuses for not wanting to serve. Time was running out in the day when my name was finally called, and I moved from alternate seat to the real jury box with only six jurors left in the pool. The defense counsel had said that he was happy with the jury as it was, but then the prosecutor stepped in and dismissed me with one of his “peremptories”. I was slightly relieved, because I don’t know what would have happened if I had to miss the last two weeks of teaching my writing class. When I told this to my class this morning, they returned a unanimous decision that they would have done fine with a two-week break.
So what did I learn in the process of jury duty? One, take an iPod to the jury room to avoid any kind of interpersonal interaction. Two, use the words “financial hardship” as a magic ticket off of any jury panel—they seem to work without question. And three, since you’re given the chance to stand up in front of an educated audience including judges, sheriffs, lawyers, and various other upstanding citizens in society, take time to make it worth everyone’s while. Razzle-dazzle ‘em. Not everyone can make it to Hollywood or Broadway, but most of us will get at least one chance every twelve months or so to turn the criminal justice system into a venue for the most dazzling of human spectacles.
Today we're happy to announce that we have new titles: "Uncle Matt" and "Aunt Kinzie". You should know that the Russian word for uncle is "dya-dya" and for aunt, "tyo-tya".
