Jury Duty: Getting to know 100 people

I was selected for Jury duty. Last time I was selected, it was cancelled. I was disappointed. But yesterday, my time had come. I was disappointed to be in the gallery section, the back up pool of jurors. All together there were probably 100 people in the courtroom: 42 in the main pool and the rest waiting to be subbed in for various reasons. In my nervousness, I left my phone in the car. There is a long wait while people arrive and get checked in and it is eerily silent. It felt like the first day of class in high school. Without my phone, I had no choice but to annoy my seat mate. “Who’s circling no that they don’t want to get paid $25 a day for this?”, I pointed to my form. He grinned while not looking up from his computer, “It is a lot of money.” He was typing an email. “I forgot my phone in the car so if you need me to proofread or whatever…” He huffed. I further annoyed him, “What do you do? Finace guy?”

“Um, no. And what do you do?”

“Guess!”

With confidence, he responded, “A travel agent.”

AHSHHHSHAHHAHAHA. I giggled, “A travel agent? That is the most random.” The 2 ladies behind us, who I had already asked if they had been jurors before and other random small talk, giggled softly too. They chimed in, “Are there even travel agents today? Where are they?”

“It was just what came to mind first. I don’t even know you guys,” he chuckled, glaring at us. Then he retorted, “Fine. What do you do?”

“I’m sorry but our friendship has become strained,” I stared forward.

“You know what,” he grabbed my blue form, “I’ll just google you. And your handwriting is terrible.1 Ohhhh what do we have here! Ok, substack… 7k subscribers?? Sweatpants theologian? Public speaker. I’ll fill out this form and put a request in. Oh and Author, This Must Be the Place,” he lifted his computer a bit. The ladies behind me, were like wait, what do you write? Ugh, touchè, I was a little embarrassed. I guess I deserved it for giving him hell. Still, this is one way to sell your book. Next best selling course: How to sell your book in odd environments to strangers after making fun of them.

I whisper yelled, “I’m sure your work people would love to hear about God. I mean, it’s kind of niche topic.”

“God is niche? I think He’s universally a thing.”

“All rise!” The judge enters. It is silent.

The process was explained by the judge. “We are going to go through a process called Voire Dire—It’s a French term that means to speak the truth. That’s what we are here to do. Your job is immensely important. We have a collapse of government if we don’t have citizens like you participating with us to find the truth. It is serious and good work. Thank you for being here.”

And then, he read the charges in the case. He read them one by one, each of them piercing, some people’s body language showed their turmoil and pain. What I didn’t know is that during the jury selection process, the defendant is there. A man in a suit of about age 40, looked like a ball of shame and self hatred if it were personified. Count 1, rape and sodomy of a child age 15. Count 2 providing drugs to a minor to coerce sexual response. Count 3, a different date, rape and sodomy of a child. And over and over these charges were read, 13 times. It was immensely painful. More and more details came out with the state began to vet jurors.

It was his stepdaughter.

The room was tense.

The whiplash continued. “Any vacations that you aren’t able to get out of,” the judge began.

Someone was going to Ireland. The room gasped with sheer relief that people are still experiencing joy while there is so much evil in the world. Another going somewhere stateside. They were easily dismissed as if to say, you can’t argue with a vacation. Then there were health issues, which I learned a lot of new sicknesses like 2 girls had this thing with a very long name where they can’t sit or stand for hours at a time. Both stood saying they were dizzy even now and could have a siezure. They were young, maybe 19 or 20, and looked confused and afraid. Dismissed. Then they asked for anyone to show if they had been on jury’s before. Was it civil or criminal, were they able to reach a decision? 5 people flashed their cards. They got to stay. What are the chances you get to be on multiple juries?! Then people had to say whether they “or someone they knew (lol)” had experience with marijuana. Almost everyone flashed their cards. “Juror 4, can you tell what the difference of smoking vs taking a gummy?”

“Uhhhh, well… smoking might hit you faster and a gummy might take longer…from what I hear.”

In Kansas, where this case takes place, marijuana is illegal. However, we live close to Stateline where it is legal in Missouri. So many people cross the startling to go to dispensaries. “And what would affect how marijuana hits a person, juror 20?”

“Well, probably how frequent a person uses and their body size.”

It goes on and on like this for hours and hours. Tedious, questioning.

It was time for an hour long lunch break.

I had packed beef jerky, sprouts “healthy” tauquitos, and some nuts. I decided to walk to the library where I parked and sit in the library cafe for a change of scenery. The sandwiches looked good so I decided to abandon the beef jerky. When I was selecting a sandwich, a lady I recognized from the jury pool was there too. I sat down and when she got her sandwich and turned around, I said, “You can sit with me. Unless you’re an introvert, which I understand.” “Oh, haha, no, I will sit with you.” We sort of talked about whether we wanted to stay or go, various excuses, and this and that. 2 more jurors walked into the cafe. Our tables were next each other and we began discussing our favorite shows. Of course, why is everyone into true crime? Chips were offered to all. Everyone was in their late 50’s and 60’s. Pam said she was going to get a book while she was there and so a couple of us walked back to the courthouse together, chitter chattering about family and hair dye and things we will spend money on and things we won’t.

“My name is Skeeter,” said the very short woman I was walking with. “I keep hoping you will get picked to the main jury pool.”

“My name is Jami. I keep hoping that too!” Pam had arrived by then and chimed in, “Skeeter? Is that your real name?” “No, my grandpa said, ‘She aint bigger than a moskeeter’ when I was born. And it just stuck.” We laughed. While waiting to go back in, we got to laughing about people using funny excuses to get out of jury duty. “My hamster is ill, I am the only one who can take care of him, plus I have no knee caps, which means I can not sit, stand, breathe, or speak,” They gave a hardy laugh and I was pleased with myself. 2 women standing next to us were eavesdropping and began laughing too. The circle widened. Another lady, also in her 60’s (I apparently have a niche crowd) mentions the show Jury Duty and several of us yelled CHANTS! The chair pants episode. We giggled even more. By then, in our friend group of 6, it was only me and Pam who weren’t in the main pool.

When we walked back in, it was the defense team’s turn. “This case is interesting because we are already conceding to 10 of the 13 charges.” My stomach turned. “We simply want to have the drug charges of convictions 1 and 2 dropped.” Oh, so we’re admitting to what he did but we are trying to get his sentencing shorter. Damn.

When the questions moved to the idea of consent, the energy got more tense. People became emotional. One man, in his 20’s, whose body writhed in the front row, rubbing his eyes when the charges were read flashed his card. “I can not be unbiased. I have no tolerance for this sh…stuff.” Dismissed, he stormed out.

The defense continued, “Can a 15 year old not consent to anything?” This incensed one guy. “Juror 33? You seem to have something you want to say.” He stood up, with a shaky voice. “We already said the age of consent is 16 in Kansas. This power dynamic does not lend itself to consent!”

More men, more women, painfully using their voices. “Juror 9?” A woman stood, “Maybe if we’re talking about 2 15 year olds. This is her stepfather who is much older. It is, like the others said, not complicated to see a power dynamic that makes consent out of the question.”

A woman flashed her card. “Number 13. please stand.” “I have a child age 12, I can not stand this.” She was visibly shaking, then tears, Kleenex handed out. “You are saying you can not make an unbiased decision in this case?” No, she whispered. “Judge, I would like to move we dismiss this juror. “No objection,” the defense lawyer responded. “You’re dismissed. Thank you for your time,” the judge said. She was weeping.

Another man cried explaining he was too emotional to be unbiased. A woman stood up and said she had been the victim of violent sexual crime as a child and could not be unbiased either. Another man flashed his card and asked to approach the bench and speak privately. 2 surgeons said they needed to see patients. Dismissed. A mother said she had 2 small children at home and no caretakers besides her. Dismissed. Each time, a random name was selected from the gallery. Please be me, please be me. But everyone around me in all of the room, kept being chosen from the same pocket! My seat mate, Zach, was called up by then. He was dismissed because he has a newborn and a toddler. The 2 ladies behind me were called to the main pool. All my friends are leaving me!

Then after there were no more objections to service, the judged thanked us in the backup gallery, and said we were all dismissed. I made a sad face to Skeeter and my other new friends, and they waved back. I didn’t think it would end this fast so I hadn’t got their numbers. Pam and I walked down together with other juror rejects, huge sighs of relief, some of disgust. I had already made friends with the guards at the door on account of my arrival with an Owala filled with apple cider vinegar and fiber, of which they were appalled. “We really aren’t supposed to let you take this in. But I can see you are very committed to whatever disgusting concoction this is.” We laughed. I was pleased at their disgust because my gut is better than everyone’s. My shoe got stuck in the conveyor belt thing and a lady helped pull it out. “I wish I would get chosen for jury duty! But no one wants a cop on their jury,” she pined.

“I do too!! I would be the best Foreperson.”

She squeeled, “Me too. I would bring snacks and notebooks.” “Yes,” I agreed, “different color markers. ETC!”

When she saw I was rejected, coming down the stairs, she yelled, “NOOOOOOO.”

“I know. I’m sad about it,” I fiend sadness.

She handed me a gold sheriff star, “Maybe next time.”

Pam and I were passing each other going different directions and we stopped and hugged. “I am sad to not know what’s going on with the case now.” “I will try and find it and I can text you.” We exchanged numbers and texted later wondering if we could go watch the court case in person or if it was closed due to the nature of protecting the child. I decided I would check court records later in the week, I don’t think I could sit and listen to her testimony without becoming sick.

There was only one time when I met eyes with the defendant and we both looked away quickly. I don’t know what compels a person to do things like this, but I will say that power and patriarchy breed this kind of absolute bull shit. And I know I shouldn’t cuss but what words can express the vulgar nature of power, coercion, sexual violations against a young girl? And this happens all over the country and all over the world to women and children. Keep in mind, the incarcerated are 93-95% male. When asked about sexual crimes, people stood up and noted that most of them were not reported. Patriarchy hurts everyone, including males. This is happening in and outside of our churches because both systems have the same disease of lusting after power with male centered systems and not protecting the most vulnerable in those systems.

When I think about my day yesterday, I got to know a lot of sensitive information about many strangers. It was an odd experience to know that much about 100 people. Including the attorneys, my peers, the judge, the defendant and the victim. Every time you hear a story like this, remember it is all of our stories and all of our responsibility to collectively care for one another with tenderness. We must ask ourselves, when is enough enough? How can we stop this from happening? I do this through writing usually. I was given the opportunity to do this in a court setting yesterday. I do this through the prison system, I do this in Sunday School with children. It may not seem like much, but we can all do something to proclaim the good news of God’s original plan for goodness in the world instead of fighting for broken systems.

I met a monster yesterday and I also met many good people. I am compelled to believe there are many more wonderful human beings than those who are hell-bent on evil deeds. And for that, I am thankful for my experience yesterday even if I didn’t get to be a juror. God has the best ones there and I pray wisdom over them. If anything, I got to annoy 6 new people. Imagine if I had stayed on? It’s for the best. HAHAHA (Elmo hands up with fire in the background).

Thanks for reading,

Jami

Share