A Shirt Fit for Jury Service

Recently, I was summoned to serve jury duty in Compton. The morning of the first day that I was to report, I couldn’t decide what to wear. What kind of image did I want to project--serious and intellectual or fair-minded and assertive? I might not be taken seriously by the prosecution if I wore my Mickey Mouse sweatshirt. On the other hand, my navy blue suit might project too austere an image to please the defense. I decided on a white blouse and black slacks--a neutral and slimming outfit.

Before entering the courthouse building, everyone has to line up and pass through a metal detector. It was like being at the airport. Actually, serving jury duty is a lot like airline travel; you sit around reading and waiting. In the back of the crowded room, a television blared but few people paid attention to it. What impressed me most was the way people bonded. All over the room, little friendship clusters formed. Everyone was fighting off a common enemy: boredom. Finally, my name was called. I reported to Department O on the 12th floor at 2 p.m. We were sworn in and told what our rights were as potential jurors. When it was my turn to be interviewed, I answered all the standard questions--place of residence, ocupation, etc. The judge told us that the case involved narcotics and asked if anyone was in favor of legalizing drugs. I raised my hand. The judge asked me to explain. I told him that the war on drugs doesn’t seem to be working. I was thanked and dismissed from the case by the district attorney.

The next day, I was interviewed for another case involving drugs. That judge asked if anyone was in favor of legalizing drugs. I raised my hand and gave my reasons. Again, I was thanked and dismissed. I went back to the jury assembly room, where I tried to convince myself that being thanked and dismissed two days in a row was not a reflection on my basic worth as a human being.

Maybe I should have worn my Mickey Mouse sweatshirt.