Doing my civic duty. Maybe.

Yesterday I reported for jury duty, my first time ever, which seems long overdue. I have to report again this afternoon, as part of a group of 35 potential jurors being whittled down to the necessary 12 plus an alternate. It would be a two or three day trial, which I could manage just fine.

It's a very interesting process, jury duty. (I won't speak about the specific case, of course, just the experience.) First comes a period of boredom, when you wait in a huge room of people to be put in a potential jury pool. When you get called to a courtroom for jury selection, I think the initial reaction for most people is curiosity - So this is how it really works? How does it compare to television and movies?

Then the judge and attorneys start asking the jurors questions as part of the selection process, and some of those questions can get pretty personal, so there's a weird voyeuristic quality to it, as well as a sense of false intimacy that gets created as you learn not only about other people's experiences, but their views on society, morality, the law. During the breaks and the waiting, you start to get to know some of these people. (Hey, you were burglarized too? How long did it take for the police to come? Have you checked the pawn shop?) A bit of bonding happens because you're thrown in together, because you can't talk to anyone else about the particulars, and because of what you've learned about one another whether you wanted to or not.

As the attorneys worked up their questions, there was occasional humor to try to offset the probing nature of the questions. As the jurors got to know each other and the routine, a levity crept into our interactions. And then I looked at the defendant, and was reminded of how incredibly serious this is for him/her. This is not an interesting experience for them. This will not just be a matter of mild discomfort from sharing a little more than you'd prefer among strangers. This has got to be excruciating, and frightening, and the most serious thing in the world. As the defendant sits looking at us, the people who will decide, can s/he tell that we're a little distracted by curiosity, and by discomfort at having to tell our story? - or even, at times, a certain enjoyment at the opportunity to hold forth with our story? Because at times, as the attorneys probed on our opinions about the fairness of certain kinds of laws, it almost felt like a lively debate in a coffee shop.

Anyway, back to the courthouse this afternoon. I doubt I'll get picked, just because of my ordinal number in the pool. But we'll see.