I had to go in for jury duty this week and I was really ticked off about it. Not because I don't feel a civic responsbility to participate in the process, but because I did, in fact, do my duty with our call in system in this state. The last summons I received (until this recent nasty-gram) was almost two years ago. As required, I registered by phone and dutifully called every evening as required to see if my group had to report. At the end of the week, I was informed by the nice bot voice that I was free as a bird, my duty complete. Six months later I receive a nasty postcard that suggested I was in big trouble for blowing off jury duty and I'd better call and fix this mess. I phoned, and explained that I had dutifully called every lousy day, then called my boss to her know I'd be in the next day, blah blah blah. I still had my old calendar with all of the details which sufficiently convinced the jury duty lady that I was telling the truth. She noted they had no record of my efforts, to which I asked what kind of record either one of us might have given that it's a phone-in system! When I asked how we could fix this, she said she'd just throw my name back in the pot and I may get summoned in as soon as six weeks. I was willing to do it again just to avoid even the appearance of not following the rules. This is what you do when you are the daughter of an Air Force drill seargent that beat the crap out of you for seventeen years...you follow rules come hell or high water in the hope of diverting attention or trouble. The next summons I received was a year later, last month, which basically read "You are in really, really big trouble and you no longer get to call in. You get to COME in to the scariest ghetto Superior Court on this particular day and time!"
On the day I reported, I got lost AND was late. I am never late. I was terrified, even at my age, that I was going to get my behind chewed by a judge, both for being late and for supposedly dodging jury service. Neither happened.
What did happen was that I was fortunate enough to meet a woman who lived, as she called it, "in the 'hood." We talked all day about her experiences with prejudice. I found our conversations enlightening beyond anything I expected. I marveled at her ability to relay these stories in such a calm manner. I personally would have been a sobbing heap of anger had I ever had to deal with the circumstances she relayed. There are so few miles between our homes, but our lives are so very different. While I have always appreciated the fact that I grew up so incredibly poor and had a really, seriously crappy get-beat-at-least-weekly childhood, I got out of that mess. This woman and her husband are raising two children in a neighborhood where gunshots are heard frequently. She told me it's much better, with gunfire heard only about once a month now as opposed to the previous daily experience.
That's the real world. I am grateful for my life. I am grateful for the experience. Thank you, Naisha.
