For Christmas last year I got a summons from Superior Court of San Francisco to attend jury duty - starting the week of Jan 1st. After a brief moment of panic I discovered that I could postpone the week of jury duty and life seemed easier. Until this Monday when I remembered that I had to go the Hall of Justice.
Expecting to see Superman and the Flash, I got up early (around 10:30a) and had a leisurely lunch before heading the 3 or 4 blocks to the Hall of Justice. The building itself is an example of 50's architecture designed to put a healthy awe and fear of the state into you. If it weren't here it'd be Ministry of Youth and Culture in Ceaucescu-era Bucharest. It seems to me that the state of California is littered with these sorts of state buildings and you see them everywhere, from the LAPD's Dragnet-era headquarters to the various buildings in SF and Oakland that stand as a testament to the rise of California in the 1950's.
The floors are all that strange green, stone-flecked smooth concrete that bespeaks the early days of grade school (certainly for me); the walls are the institutional beige that overtook the scrubs green of the 60's; and the lowered ceilings are all acoustical tile that has been designed to suck up all sounds and any ambient dirt.
The employees are earnest but friendly although I get the feeling that they can turn on you when you are "unruly". They direct you to the jury assembly room which was a cross between a large hospital waiting room and an old airport departure lounge, with television screens at the front for the inevitably poorly produced instructional video. People slouched in semi-comfortable seats and waited to be called upon to report to a courtroom. I could imagine someone spending an eternity here, overlooked due to some clerical error but not allowed to go home.
After our names were called (a surprisingly large number) we all marched down to the courtroom where we were greeted by the bailiff and the two attorneys in the case. I was struck by how ready I was for this part of it, probably due to the fact that I'd watched every episode of Night Court ever filmed. There was the sturdy bailiff, the sassy court clerk, the young and earnest attorneys and the hapless defendant. The judge's entrance rounded out the tableaux, with the kindly old judge shuffling in, and speaking to us all in an avuncular tone about deferring our duty, or being excused and the sorts of excuses he was willing to put up with. Moments later we were all told to come back in an hour and sent out of the room.
The courtroom itself is the stuff of evening news footage: paneled in honeyed blond wood, a low wall separating the gallery from the arena of legal action. That area was populated by the usual cast of characters, almost a caricature of the caricatures one sees on television: the kindly old judge, with a full head of white hair; the stocky, bearish bailiff; the sensibly dressed court clerk; and of course the attorneys.
The defense attorney was a young, well-groomed black man, his hair short and manicured like a putting green. He appeared to have just graduated from college having been a member in good standing of the AΦA fraternity, and a competent resident adviser at his dorm.
His counterpart across the aisle was even more interesting. A young Indian fellow, head-shaved and soft about the middle. He was hesitant and there was a palpable sense that he's disappointed to work for the county prosecutor instead of a large and prestigious law firm. In my head his story is one of high school achievement followed by college mediocrity leading to a second tier law school and the parental lament "why isn't my son a doctor, like the Rajkumar's boy?!" At the end of the day he's in front of a panel of cranky potential jurors asking them questions to ascertain whether or not he wants to face them the next day.
The jury pool itself is a another story altogether. I have to say that being in a court of law does have an effect on peoples' behavior. They were all very attentive and courteous, even saying "bless you" to a fellow juror's sneeze, and getting a thank you afterwards. The jury pool was a perfect cross-section of humanity, with all the attendant complaints and failings. There was the self-absorbed, marketing guy; the doughy proper lesbian in her black suit and white tie; the intense architect; the fire-chief in full regalia; the creepy potential rapist; and the bald Chinese hairdresser who looks more like a short-order cook.
When the first group was called up they were asked to state their occupation, neighborhood they lived in, their previous jury experience, and whether they had any adults in their household and what their occupations were. I was surprised at how many single ("nervebeenmarried") and divorced people there were in the pool, and only a very few had children despite the age range represented. After these formalities were out of the way, the questioning turned to whether or not potential jurors had any issues that would prevent them from serving in this particular trial. The excuses came fast and furious: "I think that there are more important cases for the courts to try", "my mother died last week in a car accident", and my personal favorite "I'm a socialist and I can't be unbiased to the testimony of police officers since I consider them to be class traitors to the Proletariat."
The effect of being questioned by the opposing counsels and the judge made everyone into a lawyer. I blame Law and Order of course (or LA Law for all you old folks who remember). All sorts of questions about the details of the crime, the standing of circumstantial evidence, and the laws involved. The prosecutor asked what the members of the jury would rule if asked to do so immediately without a trial, and I was appalled that most people said guilty "because why would you be in court, if you weren't guilty?" It took almost 20 people being questioned before someone remembered that in this country you're innocent until proven guilty. This is what every legal drama on television fails to mention or even imply, and it was chilling to see the effect that had on the legal system.
On the second day within an hour of the beginning of the session we were all excused and the whole thing was over, much more suddenly than it had started. I have to say I was very disappointed not to be selected. I think I may have been the only one who was looking forward to serving on a jury, and now it'll be another 12 months before I get called up again. Pity eh?