Civic Duty
by Janet Ouellette
Two months ago my sister got a notice calling her to jury duty. Since we live at the far end of the county and the jury site was on the other side of the county, the travel would be an hour or more and with the highway traffic being so congested, I was a little concerned. Or maybe I was just nosey and I wanted to see what was going on. Popular cops and robbers procedural TV shows notwithstanding, my opinion of lawyers and courtrooms was low and had been for quite some time. So I decided to drive with her to the court. I wasn’t prepared for the experience.
There were, perhaps, one hundred twenty prospective jurors in the ‘Assembly Room’ by the time the orientation session began. A court officer, demonstrating more humor than I would have expected, spoke to the multitude about the day’s proceedings, the importance of being present, where to wait, smoking areas, bathroom locations, all the mundane things that make a such a day more tolerable. Ho-hum, I thought. Then a 17 -minute video was shown to explain the trial by jury system currently employed by the State. Interesting and quite clear, a little bland perhaps. Hmm.
After that video, a Superior Court Judge made an appearance. Wearing the requisite black robe, she entered the Assembly Room with dignity and grace. The Judge looked at the assembly, then welcomed us to the Superior Court. She informed us in a matter-of-fact way that she had spent about a year, from late 2007 to late 2008, in Bosnia, officiating at war trials in that war-ravaged country. It was her sense of duty that impressed me, not the sense of pride that surely she must have felt for such an honor. Then she said in a quiet but sturdy voice, “I came away with such a sense of gratitude that we live in this country with our legal system intact.” Perhaps I thought I heard a touch of sadness in her voice. Perhaps I wanted to hear that we lived in the best country in the world. I don’t know but my attitude changed right then and there.
Her next words touched even the ‘common man’ deep inside of me. “Some of you may feel that you are inconvenienced by being here today. There is a difference with being inconvenienced and being a hardship. Let’s face it, we are all inconvenienced by coming to this courthouse. It is a far drive for some of you. You had to leave work or make arrangements for a child or you feel a little sick. Or some of you may feel that you are not qualified to sit on a jury. All you need to be on a jury is to listen to the evidence presented and to make decisions. You do that every day. Life experiences give you training. All you need to do is rely on those experiences and use common sense.”
I looked around the Assembly Room. Some of us were dressed in dresses or skirts. Some in blue jeans. Only one man was wearing a suit. However, her words resonated with me in ways that I hadn’t expected. Surely I could overcome my prejudice of those who were dressed informally but nonetheless, showed up to do their civic duty whether they wanted to be there or not.
Then the travail and bother made sense. It wasn’t as if one needed a special degree or a higher standing than others to serve on a jury. It wasn’t as if you really cared about being there. It was the commitment, the effort to try to do the right thing. To expend a little of oneself in behalf of the greater good. Not many of us has the opportunity to be selfless. But in this instance, the chance to make a difference was there. Civic duty became civic privilege on that day.
© Janet Ouellette 2010