…Lest you be judged
Kat Lerue - March 12th, 2008A few months back, I was selected for jury duty.
The right to a trial by a jury of one’s peers, for those of you who don’t know, is written down in the U.S. Constitution.
It’s also the trade-off for being able to vote.
When you register to vote in Arizona, your name is written on a tiny piece of paper and tossed in a giant top hat with other tiny pieces of paper.
Eventually a blind-folded individual will wiggle his or her hand around and randomly pull out tiny pieces of paper. If your name is on one such tiny piece of paper, ta-da! You have jury duty! It’s like winning a trip to Disneyland, but with criminals and lawsuits.
At least that’s how I’ve been picturing it.
Then they send you a pretty pink letter in the mail, informing you of your selection. The letter can also be yellow. Or white. Actually, the letter could be any color, probably, so long as it alerts you that you are in a jury pool.
Then, you wait a long, long time for your summoning. You rearrange fun trips and alert your employer and instructors that at any moment, you could be summoned. I think they call it a “summon” to make one’s jury service seem grand and epic. They also probably want to distract from the meager pay one receives when serving as a juror.
After waiting for over six weeks, I was finally summoned to court to fulfill my duty as a voter registration totting citizen.
I started to think about the right to trial by jury. I started to think that it would be better if it was called “the right to judge.”
I realized that if I was selected to serve on a jury, I would essentially be judging a person. I got a little nervous. Would I be a competent juror?
The problem was, yes, I would be excellent at judging another person.
I’d be very, very good at it. After all, I practice my judgment skills everyday:
“That girl’s fuzzy boots are stupid.”
“That dude never says anything intelligent or relevant in class.”
“That instructor is Castro in disguise.”
“This movie is laaaaaaaame.”
You’d think I’d be thrilled about having jury duty.
I wish I could say that I am one of those forever compassionate, never-pass-judgment types. I wish I were that girl, but I’m not.
It’s like I’m a judge, but without a powdered wig or the false wooden teeth.
Plus, all the things I judge in other people are petty, insignificant and none of my business.
And I think we all do it.
Being selected for jury duty made me think about the effect my judgments may have on other people.
As a member of a jury it was very possible that I, along with my fellow jurors, may make a decision that could substantially affect another person.
And even if the person you are judging has no idea you ever thought something unpleasant about them, you are affecting yourself.
I think you have an effect on yourself when you judge others. I think you are subscribing to a negative mentality that will rub off on your outward personality. You are sentencing yourself to jerk-hood.
Being a jerk really isn’t fun. Not that I’m judging all those jerks out there.
I also don’t think most people want to be judged. I think that, for the most part, people want to be liked. They want to be given chances. I know I do.
As for my jury duty, I was properly summoned and sat around sipping coffee for an hour before a real-life judge informed us that the case had been settled out-of-court.
In the end, I didn’t even get a chance to judge.
I know I can’t make a clean slate of all the catty things I’ve ever said or thought and I’m sure I will pass judgment on someone or something everyday. But I want to try really hard not to. If I think those boots are silly, I will keep it to myself.
I will try to keep the judging I do inside a courtroom.