Blame The Jury

Dear Neighbors:

It's the "how" that's a killer.

All too often, I have to start my blogs by apologizing for not posting for a while. This is one of those times. I do have a reason, and you're more than welcome to call it an excuse if you wish. I just haven't been inspired. 

My job has been crazy so far this school year and I seem to spend most of my time stressing about how I can better manage my classroom and how I can help those kids who are in the most need of one-on-one assistance. It's been frustrating to feel inadequate and I often come home and can't concentrate on anything else. 

Well, except that my foot hurts. I wish I could take my mind off of that. It's osteoarthritis, it's not going to get better, and I'm just not ready for surgery. In the meantime, I'm trying out every possible pain relieving device and supportive brace on the market. This is my newest brace:

Took this with Photo Booth. It flipped the picture, but the ailing foot is the right, not the left.

In addition, I'm writing a novel and I've been fairly consumed with that as well. It's off to a great start. I had 190 pages before I started editing. Now I'm around 160 with at least another 150 of inspiration. I want to finish the first half of the novel before I go back to work next week. That's my goal, anyway. If you'd like to read a preview, click the "Preview Please!" button at the bottom of this post and I'll consider it. I need the feedback even if it terrifies me!

So, why am I here today?

As you know, when anyone who is remotely a public figure in American commits a crime, we love to have huge televised trials. Every news outlet covers the trial in detail, from what the prosecutor is wearing to every detail about the jury they're permitted to release. Long before the trial starts, the public has usually made up its collective mind about the guilt or innocence of the accused. Everyone watches intently and waits for a verdict. 

Cue the whining and complaining. 

We're never satisfied with the verdict, regardless of what it is. If the accused is found not guilty, we blame the jury. We call them stupid or biased and make statements that begin with "If I had been on that jury..."  and "Anyone who is too stupid to get out of jury duty...".

Murray and Jackson

The trial du jour is, of course, Conrad Murray. 

He has been accused of involuntary manslaughter in the death of Michael Jackson. If you want to catch up on the case, you can do so here. Murray is a doctor who has been accused of over-medicating Jackson, which led to his death. Regardless of his involvement, I'm sure most people following the trial have already made up their minds. When the jury comes back with a verdict, they will be lambasted in the media regardless of what they decide. That's just how American justice works. We insist that we can't possibly serve on a jury, and then we criticize those who do. 

When I say "we", I don't mean me. I've been called to jury duty three times. 

1993: I was working for a small mortgage company in which the owners, a husband-and-wife team, were always present to manage and micromanage the staff. When I informed my female boss that I had jury duty, she told me that I had to get out of it. Of course I would get out of it. No one actually serves on a jury. I didn't tell her that I was excited to get called for the first time and that I hoped to be chosen for a trial. In spite of the fact that I wouldn't be paid for it, I knew how important it was to perform my civic duty. I had excellent role models: my parents. 

My parents were fortunate to work in civil service, so they were always paid for their jury duty service. I realize that not everyone has that luxury. My dad even served on a grand jury for one season. They showed me by example that when your country calls you for help, you help if you can. 

I ignored my boss's warning and dutifully showed up to jury duty. 

I checked in and was surprised at the number of people waiting in the "Get me out of this!" line. They all had various excuses, from not being able to afford to lose the time from work (which, by the way, they could have checked on the form they received in the mail) that they wouldn't be reimbursed, to not having child care, to all sorts of illnesses, aches and pains. Some were excused and sent on their merry way; others were told to wait and, to borrow a cliche, tell it to the judge.

I waited a couple of hours and then was called to a courtroom. We were immediately introduced to the judge, the prosecutor, the defense lawyer, and the defendant. The purpose was to weed out any potential jurors who might know anyone involved with the trial. One woman knew the prosecutor and was excused. The rest of us went through a survey which ended by asking if there was any reason we couldn't serve on this trial. The judge accepted some of the reasons and refused to consider others. I was Juror #4 and excited to be chosen. The trial involved a young man who had stolen a Cadillac right out of the owner's driveway. He managed to get it down the street before realizing that he couldn't unlock the steering column and had no choice but to abandon it. Not without leaving a perfect thumbprint on the window, however. 

The trial began on a Thursday and we had Friday off (the court generally hears motions and takes care of other business on that day), so I returned to work. My boss yelled at me for failing to get out of jury duty and tried to make an example of me in front of the rest of the staff. I tried not to let it get to me. I returned to the courthouse on Monday and spent less than an hour in the courtroom before we were all ushered into the jury room. The judge had to discuss rules of evidence with the prosecution and defense and we weren't permitted to hear this information. It took a great deal of time and we were eventually excused early for the day. Once again, I returned to work. My boss became even more upset, demanding to know when the trial was over and threatening my job if I didn't return. 

I went back to court the next day fairly upset. All I wanted to do was serve on a jury and I was being threatened over it. As I waited in the jury room with the rest of the jurors, the bailiff noticed my distress and asked me what was wrong. I told him. When the trial resumed, the judge excused everyone but me at one point and offered to speak to my boss for me. He was incensed that she was threatening me and informed me that it was illegal for her to do so. I graciously refused his offer, but relayed the message to my boss the next time I spoke to her.

The trial took only another day. As for the deliberation, we only needed five minutes to convict him. We waited another five because we didn't want to seem hasty. The district attorney (who, by the way, was HOT), told us that if we had announced our decision immediately, he would have won an ongoing "quickest verdict" pool. Wish I had known that ahead of time, because there was no question in my mind that this guy was guilty. The defense had...no defense. The D.A. took the time to speak to those of us on the jury who had questions. The evidence that had been ruled out was a conviction for, you guessed it -- auto theft. He told me that he admired my willingness to serve on the jury after what happened with my boss and insisted that I call his office if I returned to work to find that my job was no longer waiting for me. 

Fortunately, my boss decided that it wasn't worth the trouble to fire me, though she told me that "You never, ever serve on a jury. Everyone knows that." I gave her the nastiest look I could get away with and told her I guess I'd just been raised better than that. 

1994: I was called yet again. Having been laid off earlier in the year, I was free and clear to serve this time. The case was a young man who was accused of possession of crack cocaine with intent to sell. After being pulled over by the police, he took a film canister filled with crack and threw it as far away from the car as he could. 

You may remember buying film for your camera in the days before digital.

The police found it and arrested him. Just like the other defendant, this one didn't testify in his own defense. His baby mama and mother testified for him, however, insisting that he supported himself with disability payments for a back injury. He also used those payments to support his mother, children, and the mother of those children. Both women were decked out in gold jewelry and designer clothes, which didn't lend much credibility to the idea that the defendant was getting by on disability. We spent some time out of the courtroom again. When we returned, we were informed that evidence of a previous crime had been admitted -- a crime in which the same defendant was arrested for selling crack cocaine kept in a film canister.

Most of the jury was ready to convict as soon as we sat down. One woman, however, wasn't buying it. She insisted that he was being set up. We asked to see the evidence, and for the first time, I held a baggie of crack cocaine in my hand. It was fascinating! In the end, the holdout caved and we convicted him. 

Our legal system doesn't make it easy to find intelligent, reasonable jurors. In fact, it's nearly impossible. Unless one works for the government, one must take a financial hit in order to serve on a jury. How is it that we can afford a ridiculous war, but we can't afford to ensure that everyone accused of a crime is tried in front of jurors who not only want to be there, but who aren't worried about being fired or going broke? Potential jurors need reasonable incentives, such as being guaranteed their present salary or even a tax break. I guess we can just add it to our If The Government Worked The Way It's Supposed To wish list. 

When the Murray trial is over, don't blame the jurors. 

Ready to serve again,

D