Jury duty. You've probably seen the show, heard some funny stories and heard your friends and family groan about it. It's something I never thought I'd have to deal with this early into adulthood, but you never think things will happen to you until they do.
I arrived the first morning — after not being able to sleep the night before — and was quickly ushered to the bottom floor of the courthouse, told to wait in a room of around 60 people who I later learned were my fellow members of the jury pool.
I sat alone, but was soon accompanied by an older woman with a large fan who told me all about her multiple jury duty experiences. I was pretty sure I wouldn't be chosen — I mean, who wants a 19-year-old juror? And from my brief glances around the room, it seemed I was the youngest in there, also spotting everything from "gun power" T-shirts to suits.
When the judge was ready, we walked single-file into the courtroom. The chatty energy was suddenly sucked out of the group. The judge, gallery members, law enforcement, attorneys and the defendant all watched as we entered, knowing that some of the pool would decide the outcome of the case.
My heart dropped when the judge told us the charges, explaining that if found guilty, the defendant would likely go to jail for the rest of his life. When I'd heard stories of people who had jury duty in the past, it was always something small that made them roll their eyes. Things were suddenly extremely real.
We sat in silence as names were called from the jury pool, with lawyers asking personal questions and expecting us to answer honestly.
Our group had significantly thinned out by the second day of jury selection, with only about fifteen people and one open chair remaining. Someone had to work, someone loved the second amendment and someone else had a planned vacation. Then I heard my name. The defense attorney asked me my major and what I was up to, and I knew that by that point I was going to be selected.
Throughout the two weeks of the trial, I watched hours of graphic police body camera footage and listened to testimonies about the event, evidence and the people involved. It was emotional, sad and draining, leading me to go home every day and just not want to talk. Sometimes I'd drive home in silence to sit with my thoughts, feeling like my time at the courthouse was a dream, so far from my "real" life.
The case was hard, and our jury turned to each other for support. Those people around me became comforting to talk to, with an age range from me to retirees. We would eat lunch together every day around town, talk about life and our feelings and learn from each other. It was a unique experience to be with such an incredible group of random people. They were so caring, asking me about my extended family and job on the regular.
