Juror #1: An Uncommon Experience at the Philadelphia Criminal Justice Center
Donna W. Hill
November 27, 2009
If voting is the first responsibility of citizenship, the second must surely be jury service. According to JuryService@Courts.phila.gov, each year nearly 100,000 Philadelphians, randomly selected from lists of registered voters' and licensed drivers, receive jury summons. Requirements include being a US citizen, eighteen years of age and a Philadelphia resident. Jurors must be able to read, write and speak English, and they must be physically and mentally able to perform the functions of a juror. They must not have been convicted of a crime punishable by imprisonment for more than one year. Only those over seventy years of age are "invited but not required" to serve. Exemptions can be sought, however, for those in the military and those who can demonstrate undue hardship or extreme inconvenience. A Google search for jury excuses reveals a wealth of material designed to aid those who are reluctant to meet this obligation.
Not all citizens are reluctant, however. Jane Jordan (33, Philadelphia) received her summons over the holidays in 2008. She was sick and could barely talk. Nonetheless, she wanted to serve. Not trusting the mail, she sent her husband to Philadelphia's Criminal Justice Center with a completed form. She also asked him to make sure the clerk understood that she really wanted to serve.
"I was excited and apprehensive," Jane recalls, "Excited because I had a chance to do something I have wanted to do for a long time--figure out how our justice system works from the inside."
Jane, who is married with one child, has been blind all of her life. She was apprehensive because she had only heard of one blind man serving on a jury.
"I'd heard horror stories," she explains, "of people who were turned down and not even allowed to sit in the room and have a chance at getting picked for a panel."
Until fairly recently, blind people were routinely excluded from jury service. Though social prejudices holding that blind people are incapable of understanding the world around them still persist, some progress has been made. In 1991, Ollie (Olegario) Cantos, then a senior at Loyola Marymount College in Los Angeles, spoke about his own jury experience when he addressed the annual meeting of the National Association of Blind Lawyers, a division of the National Federation of the Blind (NFB). The prosecutor had questioned his ability to understand evidence regarding the lay-out of an intersection for a case involving driving under the influence.
"Your Honor," he had said, "it is the responsibility of any court of law to present evidence in a way that all jurors understand. The attorneys on both sides, therefore, have an obligation to explain in detail the evidence presented, something which must be done whether a juror is blind or sighted. I believe that I will be fully capable of understanding the evidence."
Cantos, a 1991 NFB scholarship winner, was not only chosen for the jury; he was elected chairperson. His interest in becoming a lawyer made him particularly suited for this example of social activism.
In 1993, the late Paul Kay, another NFB member, persuaded Washington, D.C council member Jim Nathanson to introduce legislation prohibiting the court from denying blind people the opportunity to serve as jurors. The legislation was needed because excluding blind people from jury service had been standard practice at the D.C. Superior Court. Kay had been rejected twice prior to approaching Nathanson, who was shocked to hear of the discrimination.
Jane's experience demonstrates both how far society has come in terms of accepting blind people as equals, and how far there is to go.
"I got a call from the head of the Jury Commission, asking me to verify that I really did want to serve," she says, "When I indicated that I did, she was oh-so-politely ready to excuse me. I didn't want to be excused. I was determined to at least sit there; if I was picked, great. If not, well, I'd done my duty and made myself available. They never said, 'You can't serve,' never. But, they were willing to let me off the hook if I wanted. I had to give them as few reasons as possible."
Jane arrived via trolley on a Monday morning in January as ordered. The court had made special arrangements to help her fill out the questionnaire presented to each potential juror. She also wanted assistance inside the building, since she had never been there before. One employee erroneously thought Jane had brought an attorney with her and questioned her about said attorney's whereabouts. One of Jane's questions provided another opportunity to be dismissed.
"I'd been told lunch was on my own,"says Jane, who was unfamiliar with this part of town, "I asked for help getting oriented, but was told that they don't work out side of the court building. That's when she tried to say that if I didn't feel I could do it, she would excuse me. Well, no way would I let that happen--I just brought my lunch all week."
The jury selection process involves a lot of waiting around and moving from one place to another. Jane had brought a recorded book, but every time she started to read, the court crier came in to make an announcement.
Jane was one of forty chosen for the second panel of the day, a case in which the defendant was accused of unconscious rape, theft and sexual assault. There was some initial awkwardness involved in navigating the courthouse, and Jane received a bit more "help" than she actually needed. Although she had explained that she was fine with escalators, they insisted that she take the elevator. Ironically, she was the last to arrive; the elevator got stuck on the 8th floor.
In a process known as voir Dire, all prospective jurors are questioned about aspects of their personal experiences and beliefs which might make being impartial difficult. Jane was asked if she thought that her blindness would be an Obstacle.
"Of course, I said no" she says, "The judge said he didn't think it would, either."
Finally, she was excused for the day and ordered to return the next morning. She had been chosen to serve. She also had learned that she could bring her knitting.
Tuesday morning, Jane learned that she had been selected as juror #1. Her assigned seat on the far right was awkward to get to due to cramped quarters, and they switched her seat to the other end of the row. Their response when she needed to travel between the deliberation room and the courtroom proved amusing to her.
"Anytime I had to go out," she explains, "they had a court crier guide me, but here's where it got funny. I had one who got me out the door and to the ramp that led to the box, and another led me up the ramp and to my chair. No one made a big deal of it, but I ask you … how was I going to get hurt getting from one place to the other?"
Generally, however, Jane's experience was a positive one.
"From the people in the jury assembly room to the judge and court criers, the staff worked tirelessly to make it a pleasant experience for all of us -- given the case we had to listen to. By Wednesday, they knew my habits—for instance, they knew what I liked to eat for breakfast, and they had a plate for me shortly after I arrived. They were also good at getting me where I needed to go without so much fuss. They made me feel like I was a valuable part of a process--all of us felt that way. I asked one of the staff about it. She explained that it's her job to do what she can to make our jobs easier. If that means making sure I have breakfast ready not long after I get there and get a quick escort upstairs, then that's what she feels she ought to do. She genuinely seemed to enjoy her job."
Prior to hearing the case, the jury and alternates met with the judge who explained court procedures, such as the meaning of sustaining or overruling objections and that opening statements can't be used as evidence. Taking notes was forbidden. They were also cautioned against looking things up on line which would give them access to information not presented into evidence.
"I stayed off the net for the most part," she remembers, "I wanted to keep things very clear and separate. I didn't want to contaminate anything."
The jury received the case for deliberation on Wednesday afternoon. The group was divided about the two sexual charges, but agreed from the start that the defendant had not stolen anything. Jane was in the undecided camp on the other charges. Thursday was a full day of deliberation.
"The problem," she explains, "was that I was hung up on who was telling the truth. But according to the evidence, neither of the people --victim or defendant -- could be relied on. The witnesses weren't much help, either. But it was a certain fact that both the victim and defendant were on drugs. So, if you looked at the evidence as it was presented, the only thing that could be proved for a certainty was that sex had happened. But just to be sure, we sent out another note asking for a clarification on unconscious rape. The judge told us that we had to prove the victim was asleep when the alleged rape occurred. That finally made me switch from undecided to Not Guilty, because there was no way -- even if you took the testimony into account -- that it could be proved she was or was not asleep. At the end of the day it was 11 not guilty, 1 guilty."
Convinced that further deliberations that day would be fruitless and not wanting to pressure the sole hold-out, they asked to be dismissed for the day. On Friday, bitter cold delayed the trolleys. Service was discontinued when the overhead lines snapped.
"I was afraid of being late, which was the last thing I wanted to have happen," Jane remembers, "I managed to just get there on time, grab my coffee and was taken upstairs to the deliberation room. Once everyone arrived, we did a vote. And to my utter shock, it was a unanimous Not Guilty. We talked with the person who switched, to be sure that it was a voluntary switch, not a pressured one."
After confirming the vote, the jury returned to the courtroom one last time. The verdict was read and the jurors dismissed. They returned to the deliberation room, removed their badges and were debriefed. First, they met with the judge.
"The first thing we did," says Jane, "was compliment him on providing fruits and candies, especially during the deliberations. Then we asked several other questions about the trial, specifically about how rape cases are pursued--as in, could the victim bow out and not press charges, or was she stuck once charges had been pressed? I gathered, if I remember what the Commonwealth Attorney said, that in most cases the victim can choose, but in some really heinous cases, the Commonwealth will continue with the trial, regardless. In the end, I think the Defense did a much better job. They stuck to facts. Their sole evidence was a couple of statements that had been read into the record. They did not try to bring emotion into it, whereas the Commonwealth really tried to make it a very emotional case. No doubt it was, but facts, or lack of them, were what we were supposed to go on. I'm glad I got to serve, though."
Not all citizens are reluctant, however. Jane Jordan (33, Philadelphia) received her summons over the holidays in 2008. She was sick and could barely talk. Nonetheless, she wanted to serve. Not trusting the mail, she sent her husband to Philadelphia's Criminal Justice Center with a completed form. She also asked him to make sure the clerk understood that she really wanted to serve.
"I was excited and apprehensive," Jane recalls, "Excited because I had a chance to do something I have wanted to do for a long time--figure out how our justice system works from the inside."
Jane, who is married with one child, has been blind all of her life. She was apprehensive because she had only heard of one blind man serving on a jury.
"I'd heard horror stories," she explains, "of people who were turned down and not even allowed to sit in the room and have a chance at getting picked for a panel."
Until fairly recently, blind people were routinely excluded from jury service. Though social prejudices holding that blind people are incapable of understanding the world around them still persist, some progress has been made. In 1991, Ollie (Olegario) Cantos, then a senior at Loyola Marymount College in Los Angeles, spoke about his own jury experience when he addressed the annual meeting of the National Association of Blind Lawyers, a division of the National Federation of the Blind (NFB). The prosecutor had questioned his ability to understand evidence regarding the lay-out of an intersection for a case involving driving under the influence.
"Your Honor," he had said, "it is the responsibility of any court of law to present evidence in a way that all jurors understand. The attorneys on both sides, therefore, have an obligation to explain in detail the evidence presented, something which must be done whether a juror is blind or sighted. I believe that I will be fully capable of understanding the evidence."
Cantos, a 1991 NFB scholarship winner, was not only chosen for the jury; he was elected chairperson. His interest in becoming a lawyer made him particularly suited for this example of social activism.
In 1993, the late Paul Kay, another NFB member, persuaded Washington, D.C council member Jim Nathanson to introduce legislation prohibiting the court from denying blind people the opportunity to serve as jurors. The legislation was needed because excluding blind people from jury service had been standard practice at the D.C. Superior Court. Kay had been rejected twice prior to approaching Nathanson, who was shocked to hear of the discrimination.
Jane's experience demonstrates both how far society has come in terms of accepting blind people as equals, and how far there is to go.
"I got a call from the head of the Jury Commission, asking me to verify that I really did want to serve," she says, "When I indicated that I did, she was oh-so-politely ready to excuse me. I didn't want to be excused. I was determined to at least sit there; if I was picked, great. If not, well, I'd done my duty and made myself available. They never said, 'You can't serve,' never. But, they were willing to let me off the hook if I wanted. I had to give them as few reasons as possible."
Jane arrived via trolley on a Monday morning in January as ordered. The court had made special arrangements to help her fill out the questionnaire presented to each potential juror. She also wanted assistance inside the building, since she had never been there before. One employee erroneously thought Jane had brought an attorney with her and questioned her about said attorney's whereabouts. One of Jane's questions provided another opportunity to be dismissed.
"I'd been told lunch was on my own,"says Jane, who was unfamiliar with this part of town, "I asked for help getting oriented, but was told that they don't work out side of the court building. That's when she tried to say that if I didn't feel I could do it, she would excuse me. Well, no way would I let that happen--I just brought my lunch all week."
The jury selection process involves a lot of waiting around and moving from one place to another. Jane had brought a recorded book, but every time she started to read, the court crier came in to make an announcement.
Jane was one of forty chosen for the second panel of the day, a case in which the defendant was accused of unconscious rape, theft and sexual assault. There was some initial awkwardness involved in navigating the courthouse, and Jane received a bit more "help" than she actually needed. Although she had explained that she was fine with escalators, they insisted that she take the elevator. Ironically, she was the last to arrive; the elevator got stuck on the 8th floor.
In a process known as voir Dire, all prospective jurors are questioned about aspects of their personal experiences and beliefs which might make being impartial difficult. Jane was asked if she thought that her blindness would be an Obstacle.
"Of course, I said no" she says, "The judge said he didn't think it would, either."
Finally, she was excused for the day and ordered to return the next morning. She had been chosen to serve. She also had learned that she could bring her knitting.
Tuesday morning, Jane learned that she had been selected as juror #1. Her assigned seat on the far right was awkward to get to due to cramped quarters, and they switched her seat to the other end of the row. Their response when she needed to travel between the deliberation room and the courtroom proved amusing to her.
"Anytime I had to go out," she explains, "they had a court crier guide me, but here's where it got funny. I had one who got me out the door and to the ramp that led to the box, and another led me up the ramp and to my chair. No one made a big deal of it, but I ask you … how was I going to get hurt getting from one place to the other?"
Generally, however, Jane's experience was a positive one.
"From the people in the jury assembly room to the judge and court criers, the staff worked tirelessly to make it a pleasant experience for all of us -- given the case we had to listen to. By Wednesday, they knew my habits—for instance, they knew what I liked to eat for breakfast, and they had a plate for me shortly after I arrived. They were also good at getting me where I needed to go without so much fuss. They made me feel like I was a valuable part of a process--all of us felt that way. I asked one of the staff about it. She explained that it's her job to do what she can to make our jobs easier. If that means making sure I have breakfast ready not long after I get there and get a quick escort upstairs, then that's what she feels she ought to do. She genuinely seemed to enjoy her job."
Prior to hearing the case, the jury and alternates met with the judge who explained court procedures, such as the meaning of sustaining or overruling objections and that opening statements can't be used as evidence. Taking notes was forbidden. They were also cautioned against looking things up on line which would give them access to information not presented into evidence.
"I stayed off the net for the most part," she remembers, "I wanted to keep things very clear and separate. I didn't want to contaminate anything."
The jury received the case for deliberation on Wednesday afternoon. The group was divided about the two sexual charges, but agreed from the start that the defendant had not stolen anything. Jane was in the undecided camp on the other charges. Thursday was a full day of deliberation.
"The problem," she explains, "was that I was hung up on who was telling the truth. But according to the evidence, neither of the people --victim or defendant -- could be relied on. The witnesses weren't much help, either. But it was a certain fact that both the victim and defendant were on drugs. So, if you looked at the evidence as it was presented, the only thing that could be proved for a certainty was that sex had happened. But just to be sure, we sent out another note asking for a clarification on unconscious rape. The judge told us that we had to prove the victim was asleep when the alleged rape occurred. That finally made me switch from undecided to Not Guilty, because there was no way -- even if you took the testimony into account -- that it could be proved she was or was not asleep. At the end of the day it was 11 not guilty, 1 guilty."
Convinced that further deliberations that day would be fruitless and not wanting to pressure the sole hold-out, they asked to be dismissed for the day. On Friday, bitter cold delayed the trolleys. Service was discontinued when the overhead lines snapped.
"I was afraid of being late, which was the last thing I wanted to have happen," Jane remembers, "I managed to just get there on time, grab my coffee and was taken upstairs to the deliberation room. Once everyone arrived, we did a vote. And to my utter shock, it was a unanimous Not Guilty. We talked with the person who switched, to be sure that it was a voluntary switch, not a pressured one."
After confirming the vote, the jury returned to the courtroom one last time. The verdict was read and the jurors dismissed. They returned to the deliberation room, removed their badges and were debriefed. First, they met with the judge.
"The first thing we did," says Jane, "was compliment him on providing fruits and candies, especially during the deliberations. Then we asked several other questions about the trial, specifically about how rape cases are pursued--as in, could the victim bow out and not press charges, or was she stuck once charges had been pressed? I gathered, if I remember what the Commonwealth Attorney said, that in most cases the victim can choose, but in some really heinous cases, the Commonwealth will continue with the trial, regardless. In the end, I think the Defense did a much better job. They stuck to facts. Their sole evidence was a couple of statements that had been read into the record. They did not try to bring emotion into it, whereas the Commonwealth really tried to make it a very emotional case. No doubt it was, but facts, or lack of them, were what we were supposed to go on. I'm glad I got to serve, though."
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