Could you do it? Could I? It’s not something to ordinarily take time thinking about.
I first became aware of Donald Trump in the 1980’s. I recall being impressed when he was able to re-open the Wollman Ice Rink in Central Park. Then chagrined when he took out full page ads in NYC papers calling for death for the “Central Park Five,” five young people who then spent over a decade in jail before DNA evidence found them all innocent. Since their exoneration, he has not recanted, perhaps because of the Trumpian “never apologize” modus operandum.
I have never voted for and will never vote for Donald Trump for president because I believe he is a crook and a danger to our democracy, our national security and to women especially. I also believe that the many indictments in multiple jurisdictions he is facing now are a kind of karma for his yet-to-be accounted for lies, scams and stiffing of regular Joes, employees and contractors for his entire business life.
That said, I’ve been called to jury duty twice in my life, in two different states 35 years apart. I’ve found it to be a sobering experience, one that is also awe-inspiring and evokes the duties of citizenship as few things can do. Voting is an overt act of citizenship but being led as a group from nondescript government hallways into a solemn wood-paneled courtroom tells a citizen that this is serious business. If my dear Auntie L was still with us, she would have me wear a hat and white cotton gloves as I did in Mass decades ago!
I was kicked out both times in voir dire, once because a question prompted me to divulge that I was staff to a committee that was in the process of writing landmark crime victim legislation of the sort that created a fund for victims and assured that they would not have to sit next to the accused in the aforementioned hallway if at all possible. The second time, I was prompted to speak of anything had happened to me that formed an early opinion of law enforcement officers and I told the court that a high-school friend of mine was murdered by a group of ex-duty cops on his way home from work one night (the cops were coming from a bachelor party). Yeah, I was a goner on both of those trials, but for the right reasons, as I didn’t try to get out of either for work or illness, though I could have.
Back in the 80’s and more recently, I’d like to think that I could compartmentalize my feelings about the defendant, pro or con, and concentrate on the facts to render a fair decision. I believe that I care enough for the truth and fairness and have much respect for the judicial system to give any defendant a fair chance.
Something about the weight of that courtroom. it’s a different kind of awe than seeing Michelangelo’s Pièta for the first time but it summons the best that is in us. It makes one want to be the best citizen one can be. I’d be interested in your thoughts. Dee
Cooking with Dee 