Jury Duty

Last Tuesday, I had my first jury duty. I had heard that the experience was very long and tedious with a lot of waiting around. Because of my low stamina, need for help going to the bathroom, pain with prolonged sitting, inability to handwrite, and need for help with eating, I had valid reasons to get out of serving. What's more, it's always such a hassle to have to prove myself and advocate for myself in a new setting. It was very tempting excuse myself. However, I decided to give it a try because I had heard that jury duty was a good learning experience, and I thought it would be a way for me to contribute.

My mom called the courthouse a few weeks before my service date, finding out about accessible parking and the accessibility of the courthouse in general. She was also told that I would be able to have a caregiver.

I arrived with my mom, who was my caregiver for the day, at the courthouse at 9:45 a.m. The front entrance was nicely wheelchair accessible with a gently sloping ramp and a power door. I went through security. I appreciated the respect from the guard who looked me in the eye when he spoke with me. He seemed intrigued that even though I could have been excused, I still wanted to serve as a juror. He told me a little about himself and his job in the courthouse. We had a nice conversation while we waited for my mother to get through her longer security line.

I took the elevator to the third floor and checked myself into the juror waiting room. The sheriff was unfamiliar with the rules about people with disabilities and told me to check with his supervisor. When I met the supervisor, he immediately made eye contact with my mother rather than with me. He was reluctant to have me go through the jury process; he thought I should go home. My mom and I did the subtle things we usually do to encourage him to talk with me rather than with her. The supervisor told my mom that the cases involve sex offenders, kidnappers, and murderers and can “get pretty graphic”. He also stated that, at the ruling of the Chief Judge, no caregivers were allowed in the juror waiting room (contrary to what my mom had been told on the phone). The supervisor gave me every opportunity to get out of serving, but I refused. I wanted to serve. Interestingly, when I insisted that that was my decision, the supervisor’s eye contact with me improved, and we were able to have a productive, problem solving conversation. It was decided that my mom would wait outside the waiting area door and help me with bathrooming and eating during the break. If I were to be called for a case, I would work out the arrangements with the presiding judge.

There were a few hundred jurors in the waiting room. They were diverse ethnically and ranged in age from about 20 to 75. There were no other jurors in wheelchairs; one juror had a court-supplied sign language interpreter. The staff divided us into different groups, mine was number 10. No jurors were called in the morning so I just read a book, rested, and chatted a little (mostly about the Super Bowl) with the other jurors.

There was an hour and a half break for lunch. I met up with my mom and we took care of all my needs. Immediately after lunch, 5 groups were selected, but not my group number 10. About an hour later, group number 10 was called. I was excited. I thought I would be going to jury selection for a case. However, our group was informed that the defendant in our case had chosen a bench trial instead of a jury trial and that we were excused to go home.

I think I made a good choice to serve on jury duty, even though I could have gotten excused. I am hoping that my fellow jurors and the courthouse staff took advantage of the opportunity to view me as a fellow member of the jury pool.

Lately, I have been wondering if I make an impact on dismantling the ableist assumptions of society simply by doing ordinary things. When my disability is seen as part of the diversity of society, maybe that helps change attitudes. I know I have a lot of valid reasons, such as fatigue, pain, inaccessibility, hassle and more, to discourage my participation, but perhaps by doing everyday things like serving on jury duty or going to the movies or going shopping, a deeper realization of disability as part of diversity takes place.