Eighteen

I had jury duty a few weeks ago. I learned something from jury duty.

I learned that that as much as I think that I believe in the idea of presumptive innocence, I can't practice it in some situations. There is a limit to my ability to put my personal experience and assumptions aside when asked to sit in judgment on another human being.

Such as when the defendant is accused of sexually assaulting, with penetration, his very young daughter.

When the clerk read the charges out loud, he finished by acknowledging the heinous nature of the charges and asking the jury pool if anyone had reservations about serving in an impartial manner.

My hand went up immediately. One of fifteen or twenty out of a pool of close to fifty potential jurors. I felt sick inside.

I was potential juror number four. Sitting in the front row.

When called, I walked up to the desk and sat down, said hello. Looked at the district attorney and the defense attorney straight in the eye. Could not bring myself to look at the defendant.

My interview with the attorneys was one question long. The defense attorney asked me what prejudice I had, I replied with a single sentence.

"Because I was sexually assaulted when I was eighteen".

I was immediately excused.

I rarely talk about what happened to me when I was eighteen and I don't intend to do so here. But I realized, sitting in that room, listening to those charges, that I am still giving too much mental and emotional real estate to a man who does not deserve it.

Some things are not easily forgotten.

I also want to believe that I did the correct thing by being honest, that I gave the defendant a better chance at a fair trial. But there is no nobility in prejudice, especially when the guilt or innocence of another human being is at stake.

Since that day in the jury selection room, I have combed the newspapers, trying to find out what happened to the defendant. Did he get a fair trial? Was he exonerated or found guilty?

And did I do the right thing?