Saturday, August 28, 2010

Serving Justice and Serving the Community


Jury Duty Observation 8/23/10



There is a quiet march from the designated jury parking area to the Civic Center entrance. I scan the crowd and see tired frustrated faces and an army of Starbucks coffee cups. We reach the building and there is a long line for the elevator. I try to take the stairs but I am told that the doors are locked and the elevator is our only hope. The elevator arrives and we squeeze into it like silent sardines.

The elevator door opens and there is a concert like line to get into room 244. On line I break the silence and chat with the guy in front of me. His name is Jesse. We poke fun at this awkward experience. The hallway is boiling from the skylights. We admire Frank Lloyd Wright’s architecture and giggle in front of the coroner’s office. The line moves slowly and Jesse informs me that he forgot his jury summons at home. I promise to save him a seat as I look around the cramped space. The clock strikes 9 and I prepare for a long sweaty day.

As I sit down I glance around at all of the other unlucky people who have been chosen for Jury Duty. Some have lugged their computers and are determined to work. Many people are on their phones saying that they won’t be in today. The laptop workaholics all have earphones on.

Why is their no air-conditioning? Is feels like 90 degrees. Figures I would be baking in here on our three days of Bay Area summer.

The woman next to me is reading a parenting magazine. She is about 6 months pregnant and looks really uncomfortable. She smiles sweetly as we silently acknowledge each other’s suffering.

Across from me a woman in a blue shirt reads poetry out loud dramatically to the man sitting next to her. She tells him that she used to be a Celtic Storyteller and Harp Player but now she is a Biologist.

In the row directly in front of me an older woman shops on the Marc Jacobs website. She is wearing a fashionable grey blazer and tiny hoop earrings. She is probably in her late 60’s.

There are two women sitting next to the older fashionista. They are old friends. It’s been a while since they have seen each other. They discuss kids, divorce, and therapy. It sounds like one of them had a really messy divorce. Once I hear talk of sex after divorce, I intentionally tune out. Their conversation has taken an intimate turn that I am not going to intrude on.

Jesse finally takes the seat I have been saving for him. He had to fill out a bunch of forms. A woman moves to the front of the room and starts to explain what will happen for the Newbies. I have done this several times before. She is hysterical. She makes jokes about lack of caffeine, smokers, and the amazing pay of $15 a day; we will receive if we are chosen for a case. She pops in a campy video for us to watch. Jesse and I proceed to mock the inspirational music that is playing during the video. The video is called, “Jurors: Serving Justice, Serving the Community.”

During the video I notice people sleeping, texting, emailing, and chatting. A select few are really focused on what is going on. Those are definitely the people that want to serve on a jury.

The video ends. I update my FB status and answer a few emails. Thank you iPhone. I hear a vigorous tapping of keys from the laptopers. Jesse is doing a crossword puzzle. I start to realize just how confined the space around me really is and feel hotter.

Our resident comedian and jury room MC starts to call some names to go to the first courtroom. We were told that 4 different courtrooms need jurors this morning. The 1st round of jurors leave in herds like cattle. Unfortunately, I wasn’t one of them and Jesse was. I wave goodbye to my comrade. A cool breeze fills the room. Less people means more air. I wait for the next call.

An older woman in her 70’s with a colorful sweater and wire-rimmed glasses reads the paper and eats a blueberry muffin. I am suddenly famished and sweaty at the same time. How can she wear a wool sweater in this heat?

The poetry woman is at it again. She is trying to recite her selected poems from memory but is having a little trouble.

People are starting to talk to each other out of boredom. The ice is finally broken. Our comic MC comes back. She says that this time the names called will go to courtroom D as in Daniel Day Lewis. For a moment I think of the last scene of, There Will be Blood, and want to scream out, “I’m finished.” Thankfully my name is called.

I pick up my badge and follow the others down a few flights of stairs to the court floor. We wait in a long line to go through security. I make friends with one of the freshly divorced women. She is friendly. We walk through security to Daniel Day Lewis’s courtroom and wait outside to be let in. I feel like all jury duty consists of is waiting in lines.

 Eventually the courtroom opens and we all file in. Air-conditioning surrounds us. There aren’t many seats left. I gulp as I realize we have to sit in the designated jury box. I notice there isn’t anyone else in the courtroom besides the Bailiff and us. No lawyers. The judge enters the room and informs us that while we were waiting outside the lawyers reached an agreement in this criminal case. He graciously thanks us for our time and says we are free from jury duty for two years. A collective cheer fills the room. As we stand up to exit the courtroom a sense of freedom and relief sweeps over me. Next stop a huge breakfast and Rodeo Beach…



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