Being Juror #5

By a set of circumstances beyond our control, the six of us were thrown together. A hodge-podge of people, our lives collided, not in an act of volunteerism but not in the way we were willing to "play racist" to get out of it either. It just sort of happened that we six were continually and randomly chosen: first from 400, then from 30, and lastly from 12.

I arrived early at the Arapahoe County Courthouse with my jury duty summons paper and a stomach ache from the unknown that lay ahead. In the 10 years I have been eligible for jury duty, I hadn't been called once, which is actually pretty crazy when you consider my luck and the fact that I lived out of the country for 3 years. But I digress. All 400 of us lucky enough to be summoned on March 12, 2014 gathered in the waiting room. As a wide-eyed new comer, I sat between a few old farts of Arapahoe County who discussed all the times in their lives that they had been summoned, only to be let go early without ever having to sit on a jury. I just assumed that I would join their ranks, and would one day myself be old and wrinkled and complaining about what a waste of time it was for me to be summoned so many times only to be released early. I emphasize here that I assumed.

By the time I sat in one of the 12 jurors seats being questioned by the prosecutors and the defense attorneys for the jury selection, I realized there was no way they were going to let me go. I am indecisive and malleable and easily persuaded, perfect juror material. My dad always told me that if I ever wanted to get out of jury duty, I needed to be super opinionated and the lawyers wouldn't want me on their jury. He was right. It would have been easy. The defendant was black, refused a breathalyzer test 3 times, and wouldn't be taking the stand in his own defense.

[Insert sarcasm here]
ME: "Yes, I believe that someone who refused 3 times to take a test to prove their innocence and won't get on the stand to testify to their innocence MUST be guilty. Oh and I'm racist."
THE JUDGE: "Thank you Ms. Jamison, your service with the court is now complete. You are free to go with the thanks of the court."
[It really is a shame there is no sarcasm symbol or font]

I couldn't lie, neutrality was my only stance. I watched the defendant, sitting there in his newly purchased button up shirt and tie. Sitting there in what I assumed to be a bundle of nerves as the case he had refused to plea bargain and had been fighting for two years now, was all coming to a close. Six of his peers, those of us open-minded enough to assume he was innocent until proven guilty, were about to decide just that.

This brings me to the six of us deemed open-minded enough by the court. Well there's me. Then Betty White's long lost twin: a great-grandmother at 76, complete with a sense of humor, a walker, and the mouth of a sailor. There was an older hippie gentleman, who I imagined with long flowing locks in his golden years, but was now the unfortunate owner of a rather large front-butt. I use the term "front-butt" in its literal meaning. There was Bill Cosby's younger, shorter, book-wormier brother who eventually became our jury's foreman. An older woman whose name actually was Betty, had a New York accent and mouse like features. And finally, a funny woman in her thirties whose only priority was to get the case settled by Thursday afternoon because she was going to Hawaii on Friday. This rag-tag team of justice upholders was the defendant's only chance at redemption. No pressure.

From the beginning of the case it was clear that not everything added up. Between the cop's condescending testimony and the horrible show put on by the inexperienced junior defense attorneys, it was quite the learning experience.

1. Lawyers really do stand up and say "I object" like they do in the movies.
2. There are so many formalities of years gone by that seem alien in our world today, and also just seem inauthentic after seeing it so many times in the movies, it made me uncomfortable.
3. It is the job of the opposing team of lawyers to try and trip up the witness. i.e. Ask the SAME question 15 different ways, all in a row.
4. The opening and closing arguments, if not delivered well, come off as a slightly better version of a high school student's power point presentation.
5. It was a powerful experience to serve on a jury.

With that said, deliberation lasted all of 45 minutes, ending in a not guilty verdict on both counts. I watched the defendant's face as the foreman read the verdict. It felt really good to literally see the justice system work as I saw the relief and happiness that overcame his features. I write this now, only to remind myself that life is funny and hopeful and beautiful and bizarre. I feel lucky that 'Being Juror #5' is another story I can add to my eclectic set of circumstances.