Jury duty—Burden or privilege?There it was, sitting innocently in my mailbox. Holding my breath, I ripped open the official white envelope to see those two dreaded words: “Jury Summons.” After I convinced myself that no one would pick me to sit on a jury, I stashed the summons in a drawer until I arrived for jury selection a few weeks later, prepared to plea-bargain my way out of it. As I entered the courtroom and found a spot on the austere wooden bench, I surveyed dozens of others who also appeared to be anxiously plotting their escape.
One by one, each prospective juror was questioned by the judge and the attorneys. For several hours, I listened to a litany of excuses ranging from the bizarre (“I need to feed my cat.”) to the blatantly honest (“I’d rather be sleeping.”). As the afternoon dragged on, the pool of candidates began to dry up. When the court clerk called my name, I started to panic.
But before I could blurt out a plausible excuse, the words of one woman changed my point of view. When asked if she could serve as a juror, she looked at the judge and said, “I am a second generation American.” “I feel fortunate to be a part of this process… this is an honor and a privilege.”
Suddenly, I began to see outside of the box—the jury box, that is. So when the judge asked me the same question, I could only tell the truth—and nothing but the truth. I answered, “yes, your honor.”
As U.S. citizens, we have the right to a fair trial under the Sixth Amendment of the Constitution. In short, the Sixth Amendment guarantees, “In all criminal prosecutions, the accused shall enjoy the right to a speedy and public trial, by an impartial jury of the State and district wherein the crime shall have been committed.”
In their powdered wigs, the framers of the Constitution took their quill pens and crafted this provision; not as a ploy to rob citizens of their spare time and income, but to protect us against false accusations, corrupt higher authorities, or oppressive governments. So, our founding fathers decided, in order to make it a fair and impartial process, a determination of guilt or innocence should be made by a jury of one’s peers. What they probably didn’t anticipate, though, was the aversion of so many to serve as jurors.
Our court system may not be 100 percent flawless, but it is intended to be fair. In this country, we are innocent until proven guilty—a rule that does not apply in many other societies.
So, for nearly four weeks—and for 30 bucks a day—we jurors performed our civic duty. It wasn’t a fun vacation from work. In fact, it was a lot of work and a daunting responsibility. But in the end, the 12 of us left the courtroom knowing we had made a fair decision.
And we would do the same for you.