Harkening back to the moment I saw the jury summons among the envelopes I pulled from my mailbox a couple of months back, I remember the knot that formed in my stomach. I groaned, then complained to my husband that it seemed like I’d just had a summons.
The knot returned on the second night of check in, when I saw online that I was ordered to appear in the morning at the San Fernando courthouse. I found it hard to concentrate, even with our exalted L.A. Kings winning their playoff game 4 – 0. As I later printed out a map and instructions, I tried not to think about how obviously scared I was.
Fear brought on a mild malaise as I waited in the jury assembly room, and escalated to nausea when I actually entered the courtroom. But what, exactly, was I afraid of? All I could think about was, how can I get out of this? Nobody likes jury service, right? Everybody tries to avoid it. It must be horrible.
Now, I can understand that financial hardships do make it difficult for many people. After all, $15.00 a day is not enough to put groceries on the table for some families. I didn’t have a financial hardship, however. Distance wasn’t an issue, either—it took me barely 20 minutes door-to-door. Parking? Free and right across the street. No early mornings; court doesn’t typically convene until 10:30 am, and then there’s a 90 minute lunch break at noon. We were excused at 4:15 pm – ahead of most of the rush hour traffic. The judge, clerk, reporter, attorneys and bailiffs were all courteous if not friendly.
Once I was selected and “seated” with the other eleven, the trial began very quickly and I forgot about my discomfort. I became engrossed, avidly hanging on every word. I felt the weight of the responsibility placed on me, and yet it felt good, and solid. However trite it sounds, it felt American.
In retrospect, I’m very glad I had the experience. Civic duty, yes, but much more than that. For someone like me, always interested in people, their stories, the human condition, a trial court is an opportunity to really participate in those life stories.
As I left the courthouse on that last day, it occurred to me that what people really fear is the unknown, and the jury box was no different. I was scared because I didn’t have any basis. I had no real clue, other what I’d seen on television or in the movies, about what went on or what my real responsibilities would be.
Many years ago, our LA Unified Schools taught a class in “Civics”. Here, we were supposed to learn about being an American citizen, the reasons behind why, and the various aspects of citizenship. Now, we only know that if we register to vote, we’ll get put on a jury list (I actually have a friend who claims that’s why she has never registered to vote.) What if, I wondered, schools could send their high school students to court? What if sophomores and juniors could file quietly in to the courtroom, take their seats and witness a real court in session; listen to the District Attorney, the defense, the witnesses and the judge as they recreated a crime or civil disagreement? Learn and see for themselves that there is nothing scary about sitting in the jury box, that on the contrary, it’s a valuable and necessary process and that as Americans, we should take pride in a justice system that provides for a fair trial. They could leave the courthouse knowing that if and when they get that first summons in the mail, they will have an understanding of what goes on behind those closed doors. Heck, they might even look forward to the day when they can help decide the fate of one accused, but innocent until proven guilty.