In the last post, I described my first experience of being summons for jury duty. Now it's time to share my reflections and insights after the fact.
First, what had seemed so anti-climatic at the end of the long day's waiting turned out to be a beautiful learning time in gentle ways. No, I wasn't called to serve on the jury for a high-drama court case. But for one who works (writes) in solitude, it proved to be a warm experience of people and processes.
POTENTIAL JURORS
That retired St. Louis policeman I sat next to was black. Either my family wasn't racially prejudiced or the subject just never came up. But that allowed me to form my own ideas: I've never understood why the color of a person's skin mattered. Our similarities and differences have to do with life values and interests, not pigmentation. OK, history has screwed that up quite a bit. But those remain our real sharing points.
When I was a child, the Supreme Court issued its ruling on equality of education. As I wandered around in our backyard, I thought - Everybody goes to school to learn the same stuff, so why would there have been a separation to begin with? It didn't make any sense to me.
Back to our story, September 2nd wasn't very long after the emotionally charged events in Ferguson, a suburb or St. Louis County, Missouri. And many of us, it was a powerful time of wanting to reach out and connect with others. When it came time to find a seat in the jury waiting room, I consciously chose to sit beside a black person, whom I'll refer to as "Ed."
Ed and I talked about our work, including his celebrity-rich limo driving and my book writing, our families, life values - especially respect and education, and all manner of things. We spoke seriously, and we laughed about life together.We also found that we shared the same ideas of personal budgets - neither of us is a fan of extravagant spending. We didn't talk about Ferguson specifically, but we did get into other news issues. He'd brought his newspaper, and I had a book, so we'd alternate chatting for long periods with reading. And, yes, we did solve some of the world's big problems.
We shared so much with each other in an relaxed, mutually interested way over those 8+ hours. I may never see Ed again, but he will always be with me.
Since the 250 potential jurors had to wear highly visible JUROR badges all day, striking up a conversation with another of our "gang" never proved a problem. We generally opened by asking each other if he or she hoped to be called to serve on a jury or not and went on from there.
THE COURTHOUSE STAFF
The screeners, bailiffs, and jury room assistants, shared three lovely traits: they were all kind, unhurried, and welcoming. I felt OK being a clueless newbie. The experienced screening crew were all County Police for whom the job was routine, but who joked easily with each other as they worked. Each bailiff had his own blend of matter-of-fact attitude with a dash of humor, especially trying to pronounce the 170 names. (St. Louis has a fine mix of nationalities.) The women who run the juror waiting room are pleasantly efficient. Although by the time we were dismissed for the day, at least one looked like it'd been a long day!
MY FEELINGS
Even though I'd only waited, I came away with a feeling of being an active part of the larger community. We had a job to do and came to it willingly. No one was cranky or out of sorts, even if they, like me, had originally wished to be excused, although we all moaned together as the day stretched on and on. That feeling of working together surprised me, and to be honest, by the time we turned in our badges, I wouldn't have half minded being called to return the next day.
Have you started keeping a Writer's Journal yet?
Lin
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