The Old Days of Justice

A few days ago, I got a summons to complete a juror questionnaire from federal court.

I followed the directions, accessed the questionnaire, and drilled through the questions. Are you a citizen? Ever been charged or convicted of a felony with more than a year’s sentence? And so, it went. And then there was a section on excuses.

The section on excuses started off by saying that a person could be excused from serving on a federal jury for one of many reasons. Then it said that if I wanted to be excused, I should check the reason. The first reason? Being 70 or older.

There were other excuses – having a significant illness or disability, needing to care for a child under the age of ten and so on. But my eyes stuck on the being 70 or older.

“I could get out of doing this if I check this box,” I told my husband. The prospect of not being on a jury is mighty attractive to me. All the sitting, listening, sorting through what was sure to be complex and probably mind-numbing facts, actually having to decide if someone is guilty of something that could restrict their freedom or change their lives or hurt their families, witnessing a victim’s anguish if it is a crime with a victim, all of it seemed like a heavy lift. Something I would prefer not to do.

I didn’t check the box.

How could I?

I would have to say I’m no longer qualified to sit on a jury of one’s peers. That’s an enormous piece of retirement, if you ask me. Disappearance from civic life. I am no longer needed to make the country run right? I don’t buy that. Not for a single second.

I’m still 100% here and ready.

____________

Photo by Toa Heftiba on Unsplash