The Joys Of Jury Duty
"I Acted, and Behold, Duty was Joy"
I slept, and dreamt that life was joy. I awoke, and saw that life was duty. I acted, and behold, duty was joy.
----------Rabindranath Tagore, Bengali poet
Some time ago, I received a personalized letter from the Jury Commissioner1 calling me to ‘jury duty’. I am just another stay at home mother, but I am fortunate to live in the United States. The US Constitution2 specifies, in the sixth amendment, that “the accused shall enjoy the right to a speedy and public trial, by an impartial jury”. Speedy? Public? Impartial? The joy of duty? I was all in.
(Image: the Sixth Amendment)
For non-citizens of the United States, permit me to take a short detour explaining jury duty. There is some sort of system that is supposed to call adult citizens up every few years.2 Random citizens in good standing are summoned to serve as jurors in court proceedings. This is called “a jury of your peers.”
The Bible also supports speedy justice. "When justice is delayed, it emboldens wrongdoing.”3 This call to serve in the courtroom felt like a direct opportunity to contribute to timely justice. Participating in the judicial process also appealed to my sense of civic responsibility.4
The title 'Jury Commissioner' conjures up images of authority and importance, but have you ever seen a real, live, walking, talking, Jury Commissioner in real life? Everyone knows that judges wear dignified white wigs5 and bang their gavels. Lawyers wear business suits and carry their laptops.6 What does a Jury Commissioner look like and do?
The Jury Commissioner might carry a lasso, used to round up jurists, corralling them away from their cell phones and into the hallowed halls of justice to do their civic duty. Upon the successful completion of jury duty, each juror would receive a 'Certificate of Jury Duty', perfect for framing or for a triumphant post on social media.
Maybe my idea can go into the jury commissioner’s suggestion box.
(Image: Certificate of jury service presented to Isha Yiras Hashem in recognition of your dedicated Service as a juror during the trial of right versus wrong. Your impartiality, attentiveness, and commitment to upholding the principles of Justice have greatly contributed to the legal process. Signed, Jury Commissioner)
I was supposed to show up for jury duty on October 10th, at 8:00 AM. Dressed in black and gray to convey a sense of solemnity suitable for the courtroom, I prayed for Divine guidance to aid my judgment.
Arriving at the courthouse, a wave of disappointment washed over me as I stepped into a too-quiet building. The security guard greeted me with unexpected news: My jury duty had been canceled the previous day.
Me: It was cancelled?
Security Guard: Yes, you were supposed to call the hotline after 3:00 PM to listen for any updates.
Good citizens do not argue with the security guard at the courthouse. I accepted the situation and carried on with my day. Life happened. I almost forgot all about jury duty and the jury commissioner.
However, the jury commissioner hadn't forgotten about me. A few weeks later, I received another personalized letter, once again from the Jury Commissioner.
The letter was straightforward and devoid of any personal salutations like "Dear Isha Yiras Hashem" or even a simple "Hello, Isha Yiras Hashem." It didn't even carry the formal bureaucratic tone usually seen in official communications, such as "Attention: Isha Yiras Hashem."
Instead, it was a stark "Notice Of Failure To Appear For Juror Service." The notice implied that I had broken the law. It mentioned the possibility of a fine up to $2000.
The closing of the letter did offer a small consolation. It was signed:
Respectfully,
Jury Commissioner
At least the respect was still there, even in a notice of this nature. A few weeks later, the lingering anxiety over a possible fine spurred me to make the call to the office.
(Image: Judge says that jury duty is your civic responsibility. When justice is delayed, it emboldens wrongdoing. (Ecclesiastes 8:11) Picture of notice of failure to appear for jury service, from the office of the jury commissioner)
Presenting ...
A phone conversation with the Jury Duty Service.
(The phone rings.)
Automated voice: Please hold. Your call is important to us.
Me: Glad to hear that.
Automated voice continues: Our selection of pre-recorded messages will answer 95% of any possible questions you may have, without annoying a single human. Exceptions include the meaning of life, how to achieve world peace, and if you should get another COVID vaccine. 6
Me: Welcome to the other 5%.
Automated voice: Sorry about that. Based on current call volumes, the expected wait time is 32 seconds.7
(Two minutes later, a real person picks up.)
Me: This is Isha Yiras Hashem. My jury duty number is 1234567890. Can you confirm that you are a Real Person?
Juria: Yes, I am real. My name is Juria. That's Juria, not Julia. Your jury duty has been canceled.
Me: What a great name. Juria, would you please tell that to the jury commissioner? They sent me a notice of failure to appear. That may subject me to a fine of, let me emphasize, NOT MORE than $2,000.
(Pause)
(No response)
Me, anxiously: I did not fail to appear. Everyone else failed to appear. So I think this is unfair.
Juria: Right, I see you were sent that notice. I'm correcting it right now. You should be receiving a new letter in about two weeks. You don't need to do anything.
Me: Thank you very much. Have a good day.
Juria: You too. Thank you for calling the Jury Duty Service.
Conclusion:
As this chapter of my jury duty saga wraps up — without any legal deliberations, but full of administrative bloopers — the score is Jury duty: 0, Life’s little ironies: 1. Yet even a seemingly mundane jury duty summons is woven into a larger picture of community and civic responsibility. So, I encourage you all, my dear readers, to greet your next jury summons with a spirit of curiosity and an open mind. Who knows, you might stumble upon joy in this duty, as Tagore beautifully muses.
On that note, I would absolutely love to hear your tales of jury duty!
https://definitions.uslegal.com/j/jury-commissioner/#:~:text=His%2Fher%20duties%20include%3A%20a,Related%20Legal%20Terms%20Accidental%20Injury
Quote from link:
“Jury Commissioner Law and Legal Definition
Jury commissioner is an officer of the court having administrative duties. S/he is responsible for choosing the panel of persons to serve as potential jurors for a particular court term. His/her duties include:
a. compiling of a jury list;
b. drawing of jurors for a panel; and
c. summoning of jurors on the panel for duty.”
https://donotpay.com/learn/jury-duty-how-often/
Ecclesiastes 8:11
Jury duty presented a unique chance to meet people, some of whom might have interesting thoughts about Nebuchadnezzar.
Or at least, judges used to wear wigs. Maybe they still do in some countries. Think about it. Have you ever seen a bald judge? I rest my case.
Correct me if I'm wrong. I don't actually know what lawyers look like in court. This is my best guess.
It was more like 2 minutes.
I'm not sure why, but I've never served on a jury. My wife has several times. I've been called for jury duty a few times, but have never been assigned to an actual jury. I think it's over 20 years since I was even drawn for jury duty. Not that I'm complaining, but it seems a bit mysterious.
Re the lasso: it might interest you to know that they used to go out and collect homeless people to serve on juries, in my hometown, but I think the practice eventually ended due to bad press.
I too have never served on a jury. I have friends who get called often; my husband used to, and he really couldn't spare the time. I was called twice - once cancelled the day before; and once we sat for awhile and I guess they settled - we were sent home.
Another friend, Catholic but married to a Muslim, used to bring both the Bible and the Quran, to read ostentatiously during selection depending on how the wind seemed to be blowing.
My mother used to get called regularly, and because my brother knew everybody in town, it happened more than once that one of the lawyers would recognize her and as a courtesy say, Oh, Mrs. X - you can go home. Which wasn't a ringing endorsement of the service perhaps.
One friend sat on one "fun" oil and gas case; but she also - as I later learned - served on the jury for a horrific, locally notorious crime. I would be a terrible juror because I would feel - I don't want to hear about this. This is nothing to do with me. I have my own troubles, I refuse to admit this into my mind; this should be contained, kept secret. I'd be looking around the courtroom, thinking - where is the real man, this should have been dealt with already.
ETA: but I appreciate the spirit in which you approached it!