It’s fashionable nowadays to gripe about institutions, people and ideas. That bothers me. So I’m looking for good interactions with institutions. Last summer, for instance, I wrote about the Boise Public Library’s wonderful creativity and curbside service. More recently, I had another positive experience.
I served on a jury.
I learned right away to call it “jury service,” not “jury duty.” Makes sense. It is a form of service, a responsibility we have as citizens. In fact, Ada County calls 1,200 citizens every week for the hundreds of trials that happen. Call me naïve, but rather than wanting to escape it, I looked forward to it. Here’s some of what I learned.
At 10.30 a.m., I joined 47 potential jurors in the courtroom. We went through two hours of thoughtful questioning by the defense and prosecution attorneys and by the judge before they chose the final jurors.
I hadn’t realized how in-depth the selection process would be. The lawyers asked us to be “brutally honest” in our answers so that the defendant would have the best chance for a fair trial. Questions ranged from “Can you keep an open mind throughout the presentation of evidence?” to “Have you had dealings with the police? Would that influence you?”
The lawyers and the judge took plenty of time to understand and explore reasons for possible exclusion — a long-standing medical appointment, difficulty in being in crowded situations, or challenges with being focused for a long period of time. The result was a diverse group — in age (from early 30s to well over 70 years old), professions (including a plumber, a marriage counselor, a retail shop manager, an IT expert, a warehouse worker) and geography (Kuna, Meridian, Eagle and Boise).
We seemed to have little in common except the case.
After selection, we filed into the jury room for instructions. Another surprise awaited us. Our bailiff, an upbeat, no-nonsense woman (wearing a sidearm, yes indeed) with many years in the court system, put us at ease and addressed our questions.
She learned our names with one go around of the table and began to mold us into a sort of team without our realizing it. She repeated the judge’s comments about how important our role was. She reminded us that we had nothing in common but this case but that we had to work together when it came time to sort the evidence and arguments to reach a verdict. She handled any needs we had — parking validation, making coffee, more toilet paper (the necessities of life) — and did so with good humor and aplomb.
As our world has moved toward coarser language and sometimes bad-mannered behavior, it feels we’ve lost our way in how to interact politely in society. The courtroom and process offered, for me, a contrast: clear rules, structure, and respect, demanded for all participants.
As a sign of that respect, everyone in the courtroom rises whenever the jury arrives or leaves. The lawyers were tough on witnesses but maintained a sense of decorum and respect, and anytime someone seemed to move to the edge of proper questioning, the judge pulled in the reins and ruled. We knew where we stood, what was expected of us, and how to behave.
When it came time to deliberate, we jurors took our task seriously, since we understood our decisions could affect a person’s life. We watched video tape of the events, perhaps 40-50 times, and several times had different impressions of what happened, so we watched more video and talked more about it.
When we disagreed, we did it respectfully. We read, debated, reread, and explained to each other the legal definitions of the charges, to be sure all of us understood. We tried hard to get it right.
It was a good experience. It gave me hope for the rule of law, which I so often take for granted but will not anymore.
Thank you, Ada County, for letting me serve.
Nancy Napier is a distinguished professor at Boise State University in Idaho. nnapier@boisestate.edu. She is co-author of “The Bridge Generation of Vietnam: Spanning Wartime to Boomtime.”