Adventures in Jury Duty

Government buildings have never been a particular interest of mine - they’ve always felt far too official, too machine-like … too GRAY. I’d prefer to spend my time rearranging my clothes or some activity of a similar dullness.

Being called in for jury duty, however, was my first time seeing a court room (woo, I wasn’t a delinquent!) and very much my first time participating in a citizen-executed government event. And, since nobody enjoys talks about it, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Let’s just say I’ve felt more comfortably prepared during my first time swimming. Thankfully, I’m considerably good at thinking on my feet.

I got dropped off by my papa in a relatively decent part of town, it wasn’t like the litter-ridden streets of Greenville or the blissfully radiant Historic Downtown. I believe the building was in the Bergen-Lafayette area (don’t quote me on that). The building was incredibly bland to a fault. It has one star on Google reviews. ONE STAR. It had a nice view of the city from the top of the building, though. Pictures I will upload at a later time.

The entire experience can be summarized in two words: wait times. I was called in for 8 AM to 3 PM and nearly all of it was waiting. I waited to get into the building. I waited to get checked/patted down for security. I waited to get onto an elevator with other people who clearly weren’t down to party despite their incredibly casual attire. I waited to get briefed on what the day was about, et cetera. Basically, if I wasn’t a convention wait-time veteran (I’ve served my time), I would not have been okay by the end of the day. I empathize for others who have never waited that long in their lives. Sad face.

After the elevator, there was a waiting room for everyone to flock to and wait around helplessly as daylight wasted away. Benches, running parallel to the longer side of the walls, faced the center of the room, forcing anyone to do the same if they didn’t have phones or were done reading handouts. There was a glass booth for them to watch us in case anyone got out of hand - assuming we were the type. There was silence besides some idle chatter about transportation gripes, TV, and the humming of air conditioners. The TVs offered HGTV to entertain us in our emotionally draining room of cream, white, and light brown furnitures. Otherwise, it would be awkwardly quiet for a room with some 200 people.

After that, we were split into seven groups by our Jury Number and were determined whether we were to serve for the next ten weeks or not. They moderated each group, one at a time, in a courtroom in a different floor (more awkward elevator waits). I’ve never been in a courtroom, so I was fully expecting something casual along the lines of Phoenix Wright, but I was terribly mistaken. This room was less than impressive, sharing the same palette as the wait room, but now sporting dark brown walls and the emblem of New Jersey. For what it’s worth, it had some shiny decorations that offered some visual entertainment.

We were then sorted. Anyone not needed was immediately dismissed (around 11 AM now since I was in the first group) and anyone possibly needed was kept around until the other groups were dismissed (until 1 PM). Surprise! I was in the possibly-not-needed list. Basically a wait list. We were told to have lunch and return in two hours. Where do we return? We weren’t told. But we had to return.

I took this time to explore the building in the event that I wouldn’t have the chance to wander around again - I didn’t regret that choice! The short and sweet breakdown was as such:

• First floor - Entrance and security offices.
• Second floor - Family problems and juvenile. Almost exclusively hispanics and blacks.
• Third floor - Child support. Entirely hispanic and the only floor in which I heard Spanish being spoken throughout the halls.
• Fourth floor - Rooms for prosecutors. Locked out. How exclusive!
• Fifth floor - Law library. Was lacking in material because they were moving to a new location that the librarian wouldn't disclose to me.
• Sixth floor - I don't remember, but it lacked a defibrilator that every other floor had. Oops.
• Seventh floor - Drug/Family/General Courts. Almost exclusively people of color.

Basically, anyone that didn’t work there were people of different ethnicities. I saw maybe one or two Eastern asians and one or two Indians. Not sure how to feel about this, but a glimpse at demographic percentages in the 2010 data census makes me feel like I should have seen more of a racial balance in this building than I did:

White alone: 32.7%
Black or African American alone: 25.8%
Asian alone: 23.7%
Hispanic or Latino: 27.6%

Oops. That all adds up to more than 100%. The section for that actually adds up to more than 100%, but you can fact-check me here if you’d really like to. Confusing.

At any rate, I returned to the courtroom by 2 PM and saw the last group leave and asked where they were going. It turns out we had to report to the waiting room where we started to get further instructions.

OOPS.

I made my way to the room and it turns out I wasn’t needed for Jury Duty, and was out by 3 PM. They sent me home and I got $5 in the mail a few weeks later.

$5 for 7 hours of waiting? I’d rather clean a house for that rate of money.