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I started jury duty today, and ended up being the #2 prospective juror called for the second group to be sent to a courtroom. Since I had been bracing myself to spend a day or more just waiting around, I was surprised and pleased to be called up so quickly.
The voir dire was in a different style than I had seen before. Instead of questioning each juror individually, and then either retaining or excusing that person, they did group questioning. (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
royalbananafish or gentleeleos, perhaps you can remind me what this is called? S*-something?) The judge called it the Oprah Winfrey style of voir dire because each attorney asked questions of the group, and we responded by show of hands. We could then volunteer further response, or the attorney could address further questions to specific individuals.
One of the first questions was, "Is anyone really unhappy about being here today?" No one raised their hand. Next question was, "Is anyone really excited to be here today?" I raised my hand -- somewhat to the surprise of the attorneys.
And it was true. I've always been fascinated by the legal system, and was delighted to finally have the chance to participate. If I had actually felt any kind of authentic ambition for a career during my undergraduate years, law would have been my chosen profession. But I possessed neither the idealistic zeal of a crusader nor the more materialistic ambition for the possible financial or social benefits, and ended up going on to my distinguished career in administrative support.
Both attorneys are young-ish women (late twenties, early thirties), and the prosecutor especially makes me think of roads not taken. This is a real Queen of Swords environment: where rationality and discernment are supposed to triumph over unruly emotion, and a lawyer needs to be able to identify crucial details from a pile of data, and then communicate the essentials clearly and persuasively to a group of laymen.
I coulda been a contenda.
But even as I enjoyed watching the lawyers, and enjoying the feeling of confidence that I was entirely capable of doing their job (given the appropriate education), I told myself sternly that this was not the time to contemplate -- in any way, shape, or form -- changing my professional goals. I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing.
You know: the Queen of Cups gig.
The universe has a truly perverse sense of humor.
The most interesting moment came when we prospective jurors returned to the courtroom after a short recess and the judge began excusing jurors, starting with juror #3. I quickly realized that I was about to become a full juror.
Only when the judge started addressing the six of us left in the box as "the jury" did did the full significance of what I was about to embark on hit me. I had been approaching my time on jury duty as a bit of a lark, an adventure, an educational opportunity. This was real. Our deliberations were going to have a real impact on the person sitting next to the defense attorney. This wasn't a high school debate (I'd been having flashbacks to my four years of policy debate); it wasn't theater (I once played the judge in "Whose Life is It Anyway?"); and it wasn't television. This was real life.
The case itself is quite interesting, and more complicated than it appeared at first. It's a DUI, and that's all I'm allowed to talk about right now. But both sides have already rested their case, so when we return to court tomorrow morning it will be just closing arguments and instructions to the jury, then deliberations. I will say that I feel comfortable with my fellow jurors, and get the sense that we'll be able to have a good deliberation session.
But we'll probably be done by tomorrow noon -- or maybe mid-afternoon if things really run long. And I'll be back to work on Friday. Which is disappointing. I'd been hoping for several days in court.
Oh -- one funny aspect of jury duty: we each have a number (1-6) and are seated according to our number, so when we enter the court, the bailiff asks us to line up in that order. After the fourth or fifth time lining up to go into the courtroom, always in the same order, I was feeling like one of the von Trapp children in The Sound of Music.
The voir dire was in a different style than I had seen before. Instead of questioning each juror individually, and then either retaining or excusing that person, they did group questioning. (
royalbananafish or gentleeleos, perhaps you can remind me what this is called? S*-something?) The judge called it the Oprah Winfrey style of voir dire because each attorney asked questions of the group, and we responded by show of hands. We could then volunteer further response, or the attorney could address further questions to specific individuals.One of the first questions was, "Is anyone really unhappy about being here today?" No one raised their hand. Next question was, "Is anyone really excited to be here today?" I raised my hand -- somewhat to the surprise of the attorneys.
And it was true. I've always been fascinated by the legal system, and was delighted to finally have the chance to participate. If I had actually felt any kind of authentic ambition for a career during my undergraduate years, law would have been my chosen profession. But I possessed neither the idealistic zeal of a crusader nor the more materialistic ambition for the possible financial or social benefits, and ended up going on to my distinguished career in administrative support.
Both attorneys are young-ish women (late twenties, early thirties), and the prosecutor especially makes me think of roads not taken. This is a real Queen of Swords environment: where rationality and discernment are supposed to triumph over unruly emotion, and a lawyer needs to be able to identify crucial details from a pile of data, and then communicate the essentials clearly and persuasively to a group of laymen.
I coulda been a contenda.
But even as I enjoyed watching the lawyers, and enjoying the feeling of confidence that I was entirely capable of doing their job (given the appropriate education), I told myself sternly that this was not the time to contemplate -- in any way, shape, or form -- changing my professional goals. I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing.
You know: the Queen of Cups gig.
The universe has a truly perverse sense of humor.
The most interesting moment came when we prospective jurors returned to the courtroom after a short recess and the judge began excusing jurors, starting with juror #3. I quickly realized that I was about to become a full juror.
Only when the judge started addressing the six of us left in the box as "the jury" did did the full significance of what I was about to embark on hit me. I had been approaching my time on jury duty as a bit of a lark, an adventure, an educational opportunity. This was real. Our deliberations were going to have a real impact on the person sitting next to the defense attorney. This wasn't a high school debate (I'd been having flashbacks to my four years of policy debate); it wasn't theater (I once played the judge in "Whose Life is It Anyway?"); and it wasn't television. This was real life.
The case itself is quite interesting, and more complicated than it appeared at first. It's a DUI, and that's all I'm allowed to talk about right now. But both sides have already rested their case, so when we return to court tomorrow morning it will be just closing arguments and instructions to the jury, then deliberations. I will say that I feel comfortable with my fellow jurors, and get the sense that we'll be able to have a good deliberation session.
But we'll probably be done by tomorrow noon -- or maybe mid-afternoon if things really run long. And I'll be back to work on Friday. Which is disappointing. I'd been hoping for several days in court.
Oh -- one funny aspect of jury duty: we each have a number (1-6) and are seated according to our number, so when we enter the court, the bailiff asks us to line up in that order. After the fourth or fifth time lining up to go into the courtroom, always in the same order, I was feeling like one of the von Trapp children in The Sound of Music.
