by Howard J. Ross, founder & chief learning officer
I know that I am not alone in that sometimes I take things for granted. In my personal life I take for granted that I never have to worry where my next meal is coming from. I will have someplace warm to sleep. I will have a basic degree of safety and security in my life.
I was called to jury duty today. (In fact, I am in the Jurors' Lounge as I write this). When I received the summons I had mixed feelings. On the one hand, I have been called only twice before and both times was dismissed without actually having to serve. A BIG part of me wants to know what it would be like to serve on a jury. On the other hand, it is obviously not in my already busy schedule to be put on a trial that could last for who knows how long. So part of me was hoping to avoid it.
I have heard about “jury of my peers” my whole life. Most of the time it was in the context of seeing a court system that serves some people and abuses others. I have studied the problems with the courts. I have worked with judges and lawyers. Yet, as I sit in this room with somewhere in the range of 300-400 people, I am taken by the greatness of a process that I take for granted every day. The entire world is in this room with me. To my best count there are roughly an equal number of men and women. There are 30-40% people of color. There are people who clearly come from a broad range of ethnic, cultural and religious backgrounds. And, of course, there is unfathomable depth of diversity that I cannot see with my eyes. At some point some of us will be put on teams of 6 or 12 and decide the fate of our fellow citizens. And we all sit in this room, many engaged in conversation, ready to give any case a fair hearing. At the most fundamental level, these are my peers.
Growing up in this system it seems unremarkable to me. Yet at this moment, that is seems unremarkable seems quite remarkable! I’ve studied the research. I’ve been interested in jurisprudence for a long time. I have researched the court systems in countries around the world. Many are deeply flawed, if not entirely corrupt and contrived. And I know that this system has its flaws as well. I know that unconscious bias in this system leads to darker skin men of color getting more severe verdicts from juries. I know that people with strong accents often have trouble with judges who struggle to understand them (in fact, I conducted some research on that factor myself). I know that because of socio-economic status, some defendants in the system will have better lawyers and a greater chance of acquittal than others. I know that the judges, the lawyers, the staff, the jurors and all others involved in this process are human beings with their own biases and flaws.
I know all of that, and it is still remarkable.
As I look around this room there are very few people visibly “suffering” about being here. Would most rather be somewhere else? Of course. But as I talk to different people it is clear that overwhelmingly they are here to contribute, and that they take the job seriously. Many really want to be here to contribute to the system. Hundreds of people from all walks of life will be put in teams of 6 to 12 people to decide the fate of their fellow citizens. And I also want to acknowledge that the staff in this Montgomery County (Maryland) court system is doing a remarkable job of serving the people here, both in process and in the tone that they set.
We have to continue to be vigilant about making sure that the court system works fairly, factually, and equitably. We have a long way to go before that is universally true in this country. And thinking that something is valuable doesn’t necessitate becoming jingoistic or refusing to look at how it can improve. Yet I am glad that this court system is not like the court systems that exist in many other places.
I don't know yet whether or not I will be called to serve in a trial today, but right now I feel fortunate to be a citizen of this county, in this state, in this country.
