For the last three days I've been serving on the jury for a criminal trial in my area. I won't get into the nature of the charges (not pleasant), but I do want to reflect a bit on the experience, even though it doesn't have anything to do with breastfeeding.
First, unlike just about everyone I know, I've always wanted to serve on a jury. Call me sentimental, but it's one of so few things that this country asks of its civilians, and it's such a uniquely American institution which I wanted to experience (not that other countries don't have jury trials, but this is an opportunity to experience our particular system of justice).
So, here's what I've been thinking:
Serving on a jury is a huge and humbling responsibility. I could hear the foreman's voice tremble a bit when he read the verdict, and he's a big and tough-acting guy. I've heard the words "reasonable doubt" thousands of times, but I've never had to use it to determine someone's fate.
Being on a jury is a little like trip to another planet, say Mars. You're suddenly a critical part of the nightmare which the parties are living, though you've never seen or heard of them before. It feels a bit like "We interrupt your regularly scheduled week of reading Franklin books and helping fix latches so that you can make a life-altering decision in the life of a perfect stranger."
And while this is trivial in the scheme of things, life as you know it is put on hold for the duration of the experience. This isn't necessarily bad, but it does feel strange. I found that I lost track of which day of the week it was. And of course it's strange to not be able to discuss what's happening with your partner or anyone else but the 11 other strangers in the deliberation room.
At the risk of sounding like a bad political speech, I feel very priveleged to have served in this way. Now back to our regularly scheduled programming. Where's that pump?
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