The Professor is called for Jury Duty
Is there anything more onerous than going through your mail, finding an official looking envelop from the County of San Francisco, only to open it and discover that “YOU have been called for July Duty!”
I lived in the East Bay for twenty years, and got called for Jury Duty about three times. I’ve lived in San Francisco about 25 years, and I’ve been called every 12–18 months like clockwork. I read somewhere that the County of San Francisco, with a population of about 700,000 people, calls 300,000 people for Jury Duty every single year. When you think how many residents must be too young, too old, or not a citizen, can’t speak English, live on the streets, etc., that means the rest of us are going to get called, and often.
There are two places you may have to go: Bryant Street (the Hall of Justice aka the Hall of Serious Dangerous Criminals, where criminal trials take place) or Civic Center (where the civil case are tried). The former is on the wrong side of the freeway, in a not so great part of SoMa, replete with Bail Bondsmen across the street. Be prepared to meet murderers and rapists here. The Civic Center Courthouse is only slightly better, when you consider that you have to traverse the United Nations Plaza and City Hall Park, and its assorted “wild life” to get there.
This time I pulled Civic Center. 20 different groups were assigned, and by the luck of the draw, mine was called first (0845 on Monday). I have never lost this particular lottery. To my surprise, there was hardly anyone there! Perhaps most people simply ignore the summons? Who still gets paper mail? Now I have to say, the jury assembly room is not at all bad — comfy seats, WiFi, power plugs, the décor not unlike a fancy club. OK, maybe a frequent flyer lounge. Too bad you have to traverse the much less comfortable family court waiting area to get there.
It wasn’t long before the first jury was called. Must have been an easy case (that is to say, short!), since they called so few names. My turn came around an hour later, after the second and much larger group arrived.
Up we went to the courtroom. About 400 of us, or at least as many as could fit into the courtroom. I guess they pretty much assume 19 of every 20 jurors will get off.
Part of the pageantry of American jurisprudence is that the parties in dispute get to pursue the potential jurors and we them. To our left is Middle-aged Gray Ponytail Man, with his non-descript though overweight attorney. To our right is the Young Attractive Asian MBA Lady, with the tall handsome attorney in the sharp suit. The judge mentioned his name and her firm’s name, and all I can remember is that it had something to do with finance. Little guy lost all his life savings? Wrongful termination? Frankly, based on the lawyers, it wasn’t looking too good for Gray Pony Tail. (See, I was already working on bias, just in case I needed it.)
But now the process of selecting a jury is ready to begin. I am convinced that the only people to serve on juries are people who want to serve (“this is better than work!”) or are too uninformed to figure out how to get out of it.
One way to get out of jury duty is to claim that you don’t understand English. One Chinese fellow stated that he did not speak English very well. The judge asked him “Mr. Lee, what is your work?” “I’m a waiter in a Chinese restaurant.” “And you take orders from the customers?” “Oh, yes!” “And you explain to them the dishes?” “Oh, yes!” “Mr. Lee, you seem to understand English very well!” Coached, but not coached well enough.
Perhaps the best way out is suggested by the following juror exchange. “Your honor, I am very excited about being on a jury!” “Wonderful!” “There is only one slight problem, your honor.” “Oh, what is that?” “I’m moving on Monday.” “Where to?” “Alameda!” “In that case, you won’t be able to serve on a San Francisco jury then. Dismissed!” Judge, shouldn’t you have asked him for some proof of that?
One young fellow can’t be on the jury because “I’m working in Santa Cruz.” The judge is a tough bird: “But you live in San Francisco?” “Yes.” “So you can be on the jury.” “Well, actually I am living now in Santa Cruz.” “So you are committing voter fraud?” A bit of a dramatic pause here. “Well actually I am a student, working in a lab at UCSC this summer.”
Another young woman tries to get out of jury duty because “I have a final exam on Friday.” “Court doesn’t meet on Friday, so you can serve, true?” “Well I have class.” “Doesn’t you class end with the final exam?” She really needed to think her story through.
The juror interviews are actually pretty fascinating: true slices of San Francisco life: doctors, professors, technical writers, programmers, marketeers for computer game companies. Either you work for a restaurant or in high technology/scientific research. Maybe that is the two cultures, San Francisco style. Some people dp want to be on the jury: the retired gentleman (he has already been on 5 juries), the woman who works for HealthNet, the unemployed young man. A jury can be an improvement on daytime TV,
Well what happened to me? I had a good excuse: hosting an international conference a couple of weeks into the six week duration of the trial. “Enjoy your conference Professor.”
