Two Weeks of Jury Duty

It's been four years since the last (and first) time I had jury duty, but somehow I got called again, and spent the last two weeks in and out of Knoxville's criminal court doing my best not to end up on an actual jury. I was mostly successful, although I did end up on one for a short two day trial. It was a strange two weeks in the shining hall of justice known as the Knoxville City County Building:



which was especially shiny the other morning when I took that photo due to just the right amount of fog.

Here are the random things I've learned during my time performing my civic duty:

1) The City County Building has no lactation rooms. I know because one of my fellow jurors was a nursing mother, and one judge excused her from serving on his jury because she asked if there would be a place available to pump at lunchtime. The other judge told her she could use one of the restrooms, and did not excuse her.

2) If you get on a jury, there is free lunch, because they don't let you leave the building. One day we had Salsarita's, which was ok (I made two chicken soft tacos and had a cookie), and one day we had Naple's, which was fantastic. We didn't get to put in our own lunch order either day, which meant both days the vegetarian on our jury complained about a lack of options. No one asked if we had dietary restrictions, either, which surprised me in our time of peanut allergies and lawsuits (especially in a courthouse), and which also meant that the lady on our jury who was doing the Whole 30 Diet didn't really get to eat anything either day. We were allowed to bring our own food and snacks, so I'm not sure why she didn't, and didn't ask.

3) Jury duty works a little differently in every state my friends live in, based on Facebook posts. In Knoxville, if you get criminal court jury duty you have to call in before Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday each week to find out if you have to report. If you do have to report, and you get picked for a jury, that doesn't get you out of the rest of the two weeks. I was picked for a jury on Tuesday of the first week for a trial that ended the next day, but still had to report the next week on Monday and Tuesday. I didn't have to report the last Wednesday because there were three trials in progress at that point, and there were only nine jurors left in the pool. It was kind of humorous on Tuesday morning, though, when they asked who had served on a jury recently and almost everyone in the selection box at that time raised their hand.

4) It takes a long time for cases to come to trial. I went through voir dire (being questioned as a potential juror) multiple times throughout the two weeks, and I don't think any of the cases were more recent than 2012. In the two weeks time, I was a potential juror for an assault trial (I was challenged and dropped from the jury), a drug trial (I served on the jury), a murder trial (challenged and dropped), and a DWI (challenged and dropped). There was another trial, too, but it was seated while I was serving on my jury, so I don't know what it was because it went into the second week.

5) I take too many notes. They give each juror a notebook with our number on it to take notes during the trial. When we went into the jury room to deliberate I had ten pages of notes, and the juror seated next to me had a half page. When we had to turn in our notes at the end, I had the most out of everybody, but I wasn't sure what would be important later so I tried to write down everything. We did refer to my notes during deliberations, so I guess they were useful.

6) The notion of "a jury of your peers" intrigues me, because I'm wondering how, exactly, you define a peer. In the case where I actually was on the jury, the defendant self-identified as African American, but there was only one person of color on the jury. He did not finish high school, but four of us had advanced degrees. Eight of us appeared older, some significantly, than him. How did we, as a panel, seem to him as we sat in judgment? Did we look like his peers? It made me think a lot about who would be on my jury if I ever commit a crime. (I'm not planning to, but I've seen a number of Lifetime movies where someone gets framed.) Who would I want on my jury? What in our everyday lives prepares us to answer that question?

7) Neither attorney told us about how a girl in their sorority, Tracy Marcinko, she got a perm once.

It was like I watched all those movies about trials for nothing.

"Jura Duta"

I'm now one month into serving on federal petit jury. For the next three months (since I've already served one), every Friday after two I have to call to find out if I report the following Tuesday. If I do have to report, I have to call again Monday night to make sure the case hasn't been settled at the last minute. If the case hasn't settled, I have to drive down to the courthouse on Tuesday morning:



and report to the jury room.

I'm not sure what I expected jury duty to be like, exactly. I envisioned sort of a cross between "Law and Order", Chicago, and that time the Legion (and honorary Legionnaire reserve member, Insect Queen) had to face Mordru and the Devil's Jury:



So far, it hasn't been like any of those things.

It's actually really boring.

I'm not allowed to talk about any of the trials, but according to my friend Sonja, who is a lawyer, I'm totally at liberty to talk about the experience. Like I said, so far it's been pretty boring, but I've gotten a lot of reading done. The people at the courthouse are very polite, and the lady who greets us each time and organizes the pool is downright friendly. She makes coffee for us, and gently reminds us to call every Friday. The first day we were there, for orientation, she also showed us an "all about jury duty" movie from the justice department, which lied to us.

The movie (vintage late 1980's based on the narrator's "Knots Landing" shoulderpads, feathered updo, and frosted lipstick) told us that it starred real jurors, who would talk to us about their real experiences, but the busy busy businesswoman who was too busy to be on jury duty was Kathy Fannon, the lady who played Betty Sterner in Serial Mom, the movie that I show potential romantic interests to see if we're compatible. If they don't laugh at least once, it's not going to work out. Anyway, I suppose it's possible that Kathy Fannon was a businesswoman, then a juror, and then decided to become an actress, but it seems more likely that the people in the movie weren't actual jurors like they said they were.

I don't mean to harp on it, but it seems kind of dishonest to talk to us about the importance of honesty and then lie to us in the orientation video.

I've only had to go twice so far. Once I didn't make it to the panel, because they filled it before they got to me, and another time I was stricken during voir dire. I don't know what my trigger is for being struck from the panel (too educated? obvious liberal? flaming homosexual? Yankee?), but two other people have been struck every time I have: the retired deputy sheriff and the lady who got arrested and convicted of a misdemeanor in the 1970's, and feels that the cops mistreated her. She talks about it loudly and often during voir dire, and she keeps getting struck from the panel.

She doesn't talk about it any other time, and nobody asks her when we're in the jury room (I'm certainly not going to), but people talk about a lot of other things, and I'm starting to get a bit of a feel for the people there.

There are less than ten people who seem to be younger than me.

There are a lot of retirees. A lot. Maybe there are a lot of retirees in our federal district?

There's a lady whose southern accent is so strong and slurry that when she talks about jury duty, it comes out as "jura duta", as in "Ah cain't buhlieve ah have jura duta ag-yin."

One guy drives for almost an hour on the interstate to get here. The district is several counties, and he lives pretty far.

There's a youngish guy, kind of a hippy type, who wears those shoes with toes and reads a lot of Asimov. I thought he might be fun to sit by, but he asks a lot annoying questions about the location of recycling bins in the courthouse, so I don't sit by him.

There's also a lady who keeps wearing a fanny pack over her shoulder by the strap, like a purse. It's not a purse, so I don't sit by her either.

Which just proves that I should get called for a jury: I'm really good at judging.