When You Find Yourself Considered for a Death Penalty Jury

Last Monday morning it was my turn to report downtown for jury duty. I’d been called once before, in LA, where I showed up, read a book for the day, & went home. No one called my name or needed anything from me. I was anticipating the same experience this time. I couldn’t have been more wrong. My name was called in the first group of jurors, there were 70 of us, which seemed high considering you only need 12 for a jury. That should have been our first clue something wasn’t typical about this case.

We lined up outside a courtroom in numerical order, were told to completely turn off all phones and smart watches, and silently filed into a very formal courthouse where two sides of attorneys, a judge, bailiffs and a man who turned out to be the defendant were waiting. The judge welcomed us and then proceeded to explain that this would be a 2 week trial, where the jury was tasked with determining whether this man seated before us, who was tried & convinced of first degree murder & sexual battery of his victim in the late 90s would be receiving life in prison without parole or the death penalty. You want to feel the atmosphere in a room change instantly? Drop that sentence into a room full of strangers.

One at a time, over and over, for 2 full days, each of us took our turn at the microphone being questioned about everything from our careers, home life, experiences with the justice system, crime, and over and over both the state’s attorneys and the defense attorney asked us our views on the death penalty. Where we were on a scale from 0-5? Where did our views come from? Had we ever changed our minds? Were the views we held new or had we always thought that way? Was there ever a crime so egregious that it merited the death penalty? Would factors from the defendant’s life such as a traumatic childhood, abuse and neglect impact how we viewed things? How about how he’s changed and behaved in the 20+ years he has now been in prison? Would that matter to us? Over and over, for 2 full days, all 70 of us answered questions again and again. Finally Tuesday evening about 6 they dismissed about 40 of us, keeping 30 to return Wednesday which would then be whittled down to their jury by Wednesday afternoon.

I knew they wouldn’t keep me, my views are too far to one side, but nonetheless, I’m grateful for the experience. When the judge dismissed us he said “that was probably one of the most mentally and emotionally stressful couple of days many of you have ever had. To be forced to think about such intense questions for 2 solid days is exhausting.” He wasn’t wrong. I was beyond tired. And still found the whole experience to be incredibly valuable. I was talking with one of my fellow potential jurors during our last break of the second day and he said “you know, maybe this world would be a better place if every adult was forced to turn their phones completely off, put away anything that could distract them, and literally do nothing but sit and listen to their fellow citizen’s views on tough topics for two full days without being able to respond in any way shape or form.” He’s not wrong. It was powerful to hear people’s stories, to hear their views, even the ones I didn’t necessarily agree with, and be forced to just sit with them and absorb them. It was powerful to hear people come in on Tuesday and say “when I came in here Monday I would have said I was okay with the death penalty. But this isn’t a hypothetical conversation anymore and now that I’m here, and could potentially be the one to cast a vote about this man’s life, I am not so sure I think it’s something I’m okay with any more.” (This happened to more than one juror, the conversation changes when you sit face to face with another human being whose life is in question).

I don’t know where they will land. It will be on the news next week I’m sure. I do know, as stressful as it was, I’m grateful for the experience. I’m grateful I wasn’t picked, primarily because it would have been so many more logistics and juggling with the kids, but I am also grateful for the chance to meet so many interesting people I never would have encountered & to just absorb their stories. I’m grateful I was able to share my faith and how my faith has shaped my ethic of life—that all life is sacred, not just the unborn. Even individuals who make horrific choices, their lives, created by God, are sacred too. So so flawed. But still a life. Someday he and God can sort out his repentance and his future, but I couldn’t ever be the one to cast that vote here on earth. I’m grateful to have seen the process of our justice system at work more closely, to experience things in person I’d only ever seen on television before.

It was quite the crazy two days. Which has led to my mind spinning non stop since then, thinking about these difficult things, wondering how things will play out next week. But I won’t ever forget the lessons I gained in a short period of time, and I know my fellow citizens there will say the same. When you sit face to face with someone and are asked to hold their life in your hands, well, it’s not possible to do that without the experience staying with you for awhile.