I was horrified when my roommate brought up the mail and my jury summons was inside. I love my desk job with its endless supply of Internet and bathroom breaks, and I hate any sort of disruption to my daily routine that doesn’t include a couch and some HBO. “How could this happen to ME?” I kept asking. My annoyance was alleviated a bit when I remembered that the courthouses are just a few blocks from my apartment and that there’s a combination Pizza Hut/Tim Hortons across from one of them (what?), but I still had fears of being placed in a criminal trial and having threats to my life made by mob bosses.
On Thursday morning, a couple hundred of us were seated in an auditorium with floral-fabric-covered seats spaced farther apart than any I’ve ever seen in cramped NYC. We were shown a video starring Diane Sawyer that started with a series of New Yorkers talking about how annoyed they also were at getting summoned for jury duty, but it then went on to talk about medieval punishments for crimes, how lucky we are to have the modern court system, how valuable it is to have a group of people deciding your fate versus just one judge, and how “Law & Order” ain’t real life. At the end, the video showed different New Yorkers talking about how jury duty isn’t so bad and how they’re proud to participate in a system they believe in. My heart surged with municipal pride. I started thinking, “If I had to go to court, I wouldn’t want my life in the hands of a single judge. I can convict some perp AND walk home to take a crap at lunch! This is awesome!”
But about ten seconds later, I remembered that everyone else in NYC is an idiot. The clerk who was giving directions to us on how to fill out our summons (which had directions on it already and was to be filled out prior to arrival) said that anyone whose summons wasn’t dated January 17th should come to the podium. A line of at least twenty people formed. Exactly two of them actually did have different dates on them, and then eeeeeeeeeeveryone else was sent back to their seats with their appropriately-dated summons. “Well, this is going to be a long day,” the clerk said.
It went like that all morning, with people either not listening or not reading and then throwing hissy fits and stomping back to their seats when the clerk had to point out this or that to them. I’m generally annoyed at myself for my overly-prepared, overly-concerned nature, but you can bet I had read the rules on my summons enough to have brought my kid’s birth certificate with me had I been trying to use my status as a caretaker to get out of serving my time. The worst part was the guy next to me who had come in late and was unknowingly complaining about the exact same things the people at the start of the video had been. Like, “why should I be allowed to judge someone else?” and “why don’t they just let a judge decide the cases?” He kept muttering under his breath about what a waste of time it was and was making me feel stupid for laughing at all of the clerk’s jokes while he sat there moping.
Luckily, my name was called as soon as the clerk finished, and I was put in a room with nineteen other people to be questioned about a particular case to see if we were unbiased enough to serve on that jury. It happened to be a personal injury case I was suuuuuuper interested in because I already blog about the topic, but I wasn’t called up for questioning in the first set of ten potential jurors and had to spend the day listening to the lawyers ask them one by one if they could be impartial to a person who had to speak through a translator, if they liked their jobs, if they had ever been taken to court, etc.
The whole process really appealed to my natural desire to talk about myself and impress people. After one guy in the room was asked about his regular job but then admitted that he’s really in NYC to work on his sculpture, I couldn’t wait to talk about my own art of photography and blogging. When I heard the intelligent people in the room talk about their feelings on personal injury award caps, I couldn’t wait for my turn to sound intelligent. Because of course I assume I sound intelligent.
Some of the people in the room depressed me when they didn’t know what credibility meant and asked if we could find for the defendant but still award the plaintiff money just to be nice, but one of my favourite moments was when a foreign-born woman was asked if she would have a tendency to side with the plaintiff, one of her countrymen, because of national pride. She said, “I love this country. We have the best judicial system in the world, and I’m happy to be in a place that has these laws.” And a little tear came to my eye.
In general, I was amazed at how many people there were originally from another country and spoke another language. When we were filling out our jury summons with the clerk that morning, he had asked anyone who didn’t have a basic understanding of English to come forward, and I just expected that no one would, because this is ‘MERICA, people. But a whole stream of adults had formed a line, some of them with children in tow to act as translators. I wanted to be like, “FER’NERS!”, but instead, I’d felt a sort of pride that my beloved Brooklyn is full of such diverse people. Eww, I know.
Although one of those people was a woman behind me in the security line, which never had more than a few people in it and just involved us putting our bags on a foot-long conveyor belt to be scanned and then casually walking through a metal detector. It was about the least amount of security possible next to making no effort at all, yet this woman behind me complained, “This is one step away from a cavity search!” And then I whipped out my concealed pistol and clocked her.
By noon on Friday, the lawyers had chosen their six jurors and two alternates, and I was released back into the main juror pool without ever having been questioned. On my way out, I said to one of the lawyers, “I’m sad I didn’t get chosen. I’m dying to know how this case turns out.” He looked at me like I was such a freak and said, “Oh.” And then went back to his paperwork. It felt like being in high school again, when I actually liked biology and geometry and band but learned to be cool about it so I wouldn’t be made to feel like a loser. I wanted to be like, “It’s a good thing I wasn’t chosen for the jury, jerkoff, because I’m totally biased and would’ve ruled against your client.” This was the same guy who had warned us that as jurors, we couldn’t award his client money just because we liked him. NO PROBLEM.
In summary: jury duty is nothing to be afraid of, and lawyers are all awful.
27 Comments
I’d have been the first one thrown out.
That situation would have me sweating profusely (like a dentist or doctor’s office… or… a long line of other places that are not my apartment). Not very Teflon, I guess.
Once the lawyer described the situation, one guy said that the idea of the accident made him queasy and was thrown out. So yeah, I’m guessing profusely sweating will do it. Apparently “I am racist toward everyone” will get you put in jail, though.
I might have found my jury duty experience interesting, if it hadn’t been a rape case involving a 12 year old. Thankfully, I was in the first group called for questioning and was quickly dismissed when it was clear there was no way I could serve on that jury. I was surprised — only 2 of us made it clear that we couldn’t be objective on such a case. Everyone else seemed totally ok with the idea of questioning whether a 12 year old would lie about something like that. I mean, I know it’s entirely possible she lied, but it took 4 years to come to trial, and she would be testifying, and I just don’t see any child (or mother) continuing to put herself through all of that for a lie.
Now I’m terrified of getting jury duty since I work for myself — I have no idea what I would do if I got picked for a trial that lasted forever, or even worse, required me to be sequestered where there’s absolutely no way I could get any of my work done. If I don’t work, I don’t get paid, simple as that. Though, chances are slim that anyone would pull me for the type of case that requires sequestering, because I have a really weak stomach — when I worked at a print shop, I had to process photos for the DA’s office once, and let’s just say I was never asked to do that again after they saw my reaction to the photos.
Actually, I received a jury summons a couple months ago, and I put a slightly more eloquent version of “I’m the owner of a sole proprietorship where I am the only employee, and if I don’t work, I don’t get paid” on the little form where you make your excuses, and they let me off, no problem. So (probably) no worries!
This makes me feel SO much better!
WOW. That is interesting. I’m trying to ask myself if I could be objective. Part of me feels like I could, and part of me thinks there’s no way I could rule against a potentially-abused teenager. I’d almost want to side with her just in case! It’s like the guy who asked if we could find for the defendant but still award the plaintiff money. Aww, crap, I’m THAT guy.
Think of jury duty as a way to meet new clients. While you’re sequestered, you can rebrand all of your fellow jurors.
I live in mortal fear of getting summoned for jury duty as well. My job is not all stars and unicorns, but I am enough of a control freak that I detest having to get a sub – maternity leave stressed me out enough. I also live in mortal fear of losing my life over jury duty. I live in a county which is currently experiencing a problem with charred bodies being found on the side of the road due to bad drug deals. So yeah, don’t want to get on the wrong side of THAT.
Kentucky is AMAZING. Someone else was just telling me recently that skipping school isn’t even fun as a teacher because of all the prep you have to do. Whatever happened to the days of subs showing movies?
About 4 or 5 years ago I was summoned to jury duty in Brooklyn. I was called into voir dire for a personal injury case where the defendant’s attorney explained the case was about a daughter suing her mother (or vice versa … how more Latin can I include in this comment??!!) . The he said there was “no drama here” and that the mother and daughter have a very close and loving relationship.
Then the he asked if we could be impartial judges to this. One woman said with absolute contempt, “I’m from Russia and I just don’t understand you people. Daughter suing her own mother!” A couple other people nodded and said equally disqualifying statements.
I _really_ wanted to serve on a jury. When it was my turn I said I could definitely be impartial and that I’m open minded and willing to listen to both sides. But instead of stopping there, I added “but I am kind of curious what this is all about, like is it some sort of insurance thing that she’s suing for?”
I got rejected along with the others who clearly had no interest in serving on the jury. The ones who got picked, they looked like all they needed was a bottle of glue and they’d be entertained for hours.
When I was on a Grand Jury, I actually felt like most of the people .. Glue!!
I would’ve disqualified myself the moment I heard “no drama here”. I wanted missing limbs and possible schizophrenia! Just not involving mob bosses. I guess I should’ve known that intelligence wasn’t in the criteria for jurors when the lawyer kept asking everyone if they “promise” to listen to the translator and “promise” to not talk to their friends about the case. As an adult, I’ve never been asked if I “promise” to do anything like I’m some five-year-old. I know you were just trying to get out of work, though.
Three years ago I received a summons for jury duty. As an attorney, (and I hope I am the exception to the “lawyers are all awful” comment that I take as hyperbole and not personally since you don’t know me IRL [and therefore could be awful] but perhaps a little since I just had to mention I am an attorney but it is relevant to this comment if I ever can finish this very long parenthetical) I thought I would be automatically exempted. Not so. I wrote a letter explaining I was a sole practitioner and my clients couldn’t possibly get along without me if I had to serve) and my request went unanswered. So I duly prepared for being out of the office for two weeks and began to look forward to it as a mini-vacation. The Friday before I was to report, I received a call from the Court Administrator stating that my request for an exemption had been granted. I actually was disappointed. I thought I would follow the court cases particularly closely during the following two weeks to see what cases I might have been chosen for, but my attention span is not that long.
Ha! I actually only said that because my boyfriend is a lawyer. But that guy really was awful.
I’m wondering if anyone would ever choose you as a juror even if the system hadn’t exempted you. I’m guessing the other lawyers would worry about you judging the way they practice or having heard something about them through the lawyer grapevine and being biased against them. Not that you couldn’t put your bias aside. It’s sometimes just fun to purposely not put your bias aside.
So glad I took time out of my SUPER IMPORTANT LAWYER JOB to catch up on your blog. :) I’m awful, it’s okay. However, saying “I’m an attorney” at jury duty a few months ago got me out of everything. Also helpful – having nice friends for defense attorneys.
I thought about you the whooooooooooooole time I was there because of the name of your Tumblr.
Now please explain to me what #apad is.
I don’t know how to spell iPad. Kidding. It’s “a photo a day.” Keeps me thinking about how to stop and make at least one moment a day special and remember it, even if it’s something dumb like how poorly I painted my nails.
Wow, can’t believe I couldn’t figure that out. I thought that you were either taking photos with your iPad and spelling it that way to be different or that you had moved into a new apartment and were taking pictures of “a pad”. Both of them were totally weird to me.
Points for effort, especially since I have moved into a new pad. :) You’re not the only one who has asked that question, by the way.
As I’ve written before, I’d really like to serve on a jury. I’ve been picked twice, but neither instance led to any actual jurying.
First time, I was picked as Juror #1 (Whoo Hoo, #1 baby1) but the case was thrown out before trial. Two years later, I was Alternate #3, so I got to sit through the trial, but didn’ t get to do any deliberating. (I’ve written about both experiences in the past.)
At least in your situation, you get to hear what the other prospective jurors are saying. In Baltimore, they play static on the PA system, so it sounds like we’re trapped in a Poltergeist movie.
Anyway, I seem to get summoned every 2 years, so I’ll be on the lookout again this March. Maybe I can finally clear out this case of judicial blue balls.
I was so scared to be picked as #1, because then you have to be the secretary-type person, right? And I knew that I’d disagree with everyone else on the jury and that they’d all hate me and would try to get me de-secretaried.
Pittsburgh with its Poltergeist static sounds almost as amazing as Kentucky with its charred bodies.
+1 on the blue balls.
I’ve been summoned three times, twice after I moved to a different parish which was a convenient way to get out of it. But when I did go, they would question people if they had ever been victims of a crime. One lady’s niece had been brutally raped and murdered and the defense attorney kept asking her questions about it whistle she was sobbing. It was awful. The judge had to stop the questioning and dismissed the woman right there. So yea, lawyers = awful.
*while, not whistle. Thanks autocorrect.
WOW. That’s terrible. During my time, people would ask to be questioned privately if there was something sensitive to discuss, and of course I was dying to know what they were saying, but it sure sounds like it’s better that way. I can’t imagine having to witness that.
I got called and served the summer after I was 18. I was by far the youngest one on the jury, and I was the first one to come to the conclusion that we couldn’t convict the kid of any charges because the prosecuting attorney had done a shit job. Everyone else had to sit there and debate about it for two hours before realizing the same thing.
It’s sort of sobering to discover that the justice system relies primarily on morons.
Isn’t it? I loved how the questioning attorney kept explaining to us that we were being questioned to make sure “everything is fair”. Uh, no, you’re questioning us to make sure we don’t have too many opinions and life experiences. I probably would’ve peed myself with nervousness had I been called at 18, though.
I KNEW you’d like it. I’m jealous. I’ve still never been summoned.
Jack said he gave up my name for a $5 referral fee, so I’ll give them yours when they offer me the same deal.