Proud to be One

I have been an citizen of the United States from the moment of my birth, a proud voter since my eighteenth birthday, and a defender of freedom and choker-up-at-the-Star-Spangled-Banner for many, many decades.

What I have not been is a juror.

Oh, I haven't tried to duck this civic duty. In fact, as an avid watcher of television, I had secretly yearned to be the real-life female equivalent of Henry Fonda in 12 Angry Men--truth, justice, the American way. And in spite of this willingness, nay, EAGERNESS to do my civic duty, the only time I had so much as received a letter indicating I was eligible for jury duty was the day after Boy#1 was born.

I called the clerk of the court to explain that I was so, so sorry, because I really, really WANTED to be a juror but my baby...and my inability to sit comfortably...and breastfeeding...and...could they call me back later?  Whether it was the logic of not impaneling a woman in the throes of postpartum hormones ("That murderer was once someone's newborn baby!") or the accompanying copious tears, I wasn't called for jury duty again until I had passed out of my childbearing years.

A couple of months ago, though, I opened the mailbox to find an official-looking letter. I knew it had to be from the government, because really, who sends things through the mail these days? Not only had I been called for jury duty, I had been called for federal grand jury duty. Last week was the first meeting of this group.

Now I can't tell you what all being a grand juror entails because if there was one thing that was emphasized two or three or a hundred times during the first two days, it was that grand jury proceedings are secret. Secret, secret, secret. We watched a little television program about service on the grand jury and the juror's husband and family and friends all but tickled her on the bottoms of her feet to get her to talk about what had gone on in the jury room but she did not spill the beans and I won't either.

But I can tell you (because Google already knows all this) that a grand jury doesn't decide guilt or innocence, it only decides if the government has enough evidence a crime has been committed to charge a person with said crime. Also, that the grand jury serves for 18 months but only a couple of days each month. Also that all of the cases presented are federal crimes, not local or state.

I can also tell you that there are 23 persons on this jury, and because we cannot bring liquids into the courthouse the Diet Pepsi drinkers in our midst were just a tad cranky that the court provided coffee but not other forms of liquid caffeine.

What really surprised me, though, was how seriously the judge and prosecutors and clerks who are part of the process took this whole thing.

We weren't just 23 average schmoes from off the street, they told us, we were part of a constitutional safeguard that goes back to the founding of the nation. We were keeping the government from accusing citizens of crimes with no evidence, they said, and whatever we needed to do our job would be provided. We could subpoena documents. We could call witnesses. We were an important step in  the justice  process. Not many people get the chance to do this, the judge told us, but you do.

It was a good reminder that we live in a country that is different from any other. I have been saddened to the point of despair by the direction our country is headed, a direction that seems so counter to the promotion of general welfare that our founders envisioned. But serving on this jury is pulling a couple of my other favorite phrases out of the Preamble to the Constitution and giving me a chance to live in them--to establish justice, and ensure the blessings of liberty.

I'll never be Henry Fonda, but I'll do what  I can.

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