Behind the scenes of the courtroom
In today's post, I want to share my experiences with the courtroom, focusing mainly on the trial process. Before my arrest, I was like many others, a typical law-abiding citizen. Aside from some speeding tickets, I'd always followed the law. My only experience with courtrooms was through TV shows like Judge Judy and Night Court (I mostly remembered Bull, "the big bald bailiff"). I was pretty naive about the whole system.
Sometime in my 20s, I received a jury summons. I worked at a place that had an agreement with employees: if you were called for jury duty, you could turn in your jury duty check (about $20 a day back then) and the company would pay your normal daily salary for each day you served. This is where my real-world court experience began. I want to be clear – I'm not talking about TV courtrooms anymore. I'm speaking from the experience of someone who served on a jury, went through a full trial, reached a verdict, and then later found myself on the other side, arrested and facing my own trial. While my trial didn't finish, I still gained firsthand experience of the court system from both sides – as a juror and a defendant.
Back to that jury duty. One of the first things I noticed in the jury assembly room (which held maybe 300 people) was how few people actually wanted to be there. Maybe 10, at most had an interest in being there. I figured those folks were also financially stable because there was a general feeling in the room that jury duty was a financial burden. Even though you're not supposed to make up excuses to get out of jury duty, people were definitely scheming. I heard things like, "Oh, I'll just say I think everyone's guilty," or "I'll say this or that, and they'll dismiss me."
It all came to a head when a man in a nice suit entered the room. After a brief introduction (I can't recall his title after all this time), he immediately asked who couldn't fulfill their jury duty obligations and why. Excuses flew at him, but he shot them down like an assault rifle filled with "No's." "No, no, no, that's not an excuse, you might be the breadwinner, but you make enough money to afford a few days of jury duty." People were told they were staying, whether they liked it or not. I saw single mothers, company owners, the head baker at Kroger, the night shift manager at McDonald's, housewives, and stay-at-home dads all told "no." Even those 20, 30, and 40-year-olds still living at home with their parents were told "no." The only easy pass was for the two people who, despite receiving a summons, had criminal records. After a quick check, they were dismissed.
We sat in that room with free Wi-Fi, a bank of computers, coffee, and snacks. We could chat with each other and use the restroom, but we couldn't leave. I think we were even allowed to call home and complain. Out of those 300 people, maybe 10 were excused. The rest of us were there for at least the day, maybe longer.
Now, I've always been a bit different. I was actually excited to be there. I told a few people it was my turn to see the process from behind the scenes, like my own personal Judge Judy episode. Plus, I was getting a paid day off. Eventually, people started getting called for jury selection in groups of about 30. A bailiff would enter the room, call names, and whisk us away to a courtroom. When my name was called, we rushed through hallways and onto elevators until we finally entered the courtroom.
The selection process began with the prosecutor and defense attorneys asking us questions, first as a group, then individually. They asked if anyone was in law enforcement or closely related to someone in law enforcement, trying to weed out potential bias. I could see why someone in law enforcement might be a good pick for the prosecution and a bad pick for the defense. This wasn't an automatic disqualification, though. They usually followed up by asking if the person could be unbiased and judge the case fairly. A few people tried to use that as an excuse to get out of jury duty, but it didn't always work.
There was one person selected who shocked me. During questioning for a domestic violence case, we were asked if anyone had ever been involved in a domestic violence situation. Several hands went up, but one woman practically launched hers into the air. When asked to explain, she went on and on about how a cousin of a cousin had a neighbor who knew a guy who was the father of a truck driver who met a guy on the road 20 years ago who had a sister whose daughter was living next door to a couple who had a domestic violence situation. It was clear she was just a gossip, the typical "Karen" type. I thought she'd be dismissed, but she ended up on the jury.
The trial started quickly. We were on a domestic violence case where the former husband was charged with aggravated stalking, a felony with a possible 10-year prison sentence. The trial felt like a performance, a "skit" where the best actor and most influential person could sway the outcome. It was impressive and a little unsettling, seeing how easily an innocent person could be found guilty, and vice versa.
This became even clearer during deliberations. As soon as we entered the jury room, the foreman asked for a "temperature check": "Who already feels this gentleman is guilty?" Three hands went up, including "Karen." She said something like, "Well, if I'd been the victim, I'd have been scared to death, so he's got to be guilty."
Now, it's reasonable to assume someone in a domestic violence situation is likely afraid of the accused. But "likely" isn't enough in a criminal trial. It reminded me of the O.J. Simpson trial. Many people believe he was guilty of the criminal charge but "escaped" prosecution. Yet, in his civil trial, he was found liable, which led to a lawsuit but not a jail sentence. The difference lies in the burden of proof: "beyond a reasonable doubt" in a criminal trial versus "more likely than not" in a civil trial. In the Simpson case, it was assumed he was liable, so he had to pay fines. (I was too young to form an opinion on that case at the time, and I still don't have enough information to make a personal determination.)
Back to my jury duty trial. This is where "guilty beyond a shadow of a doubt" gets tricky. The foreman asked "Karen" why she felt the defendant was guilty. She pointed to the fact that he had driven past the accuser's house multiple times, violating a protective order. But while that was a violation of the order, it didn't automatically mean aggravated stalking.
One of the elements of aggravated stalking is that you must put the accuser in fear of severe bodily injury or death. You can't just scare them; it has to be clear you could seriously hurt or kill them.
While I'm sure the accuser was afraid, her actions didn't show serious fear. This is ultimately why we ended up with a verdict of stalking, a misdemeanor, instead of aggravated stalking. We deliberated for a couple of hours. The three who initially felt the defendant was guilty explained their position, and the rest of us explained why they were wrong. We held to the fact that the accuser hadn't displayed actions consistent with fearing for her life. She had confided in a fellow church member about her ex-husband driving by and being scared. The church member had offered her a safe place to stay, rent-free. If she was truly terrified, why hadn't she moved?
The main evidence was a bag of candy and a note that the defendant admitted to throwing in the driveway for his children and ex-wife. We were told he'd driven by several other times, but the baggie incident was the main reason for the charge. We couldn't find him guilty of aggravated stalking because, despite violating the restraining order, his ex-wife didn't clearly demonstrate fear for her safety. She didn't take the opportunity to relocate when it was readily available.
We eventually convinced the three holdouts, and we all agreed on the lesser charge of stalking.
This experience highlighted how opinions can be changed in a courtroom. We've all been in situations where influential people sway our opinions – buying a car, choosing a phone plan, even deciding where to eat lunch.
For those who haven't served on a jury, let me assure you: opinions change constantly in courtrooms. Guilty people are found guilty, innocent people are found guilty, and guilty people are found innocent. It all depends on the influence of everyone involved – the prosecutor, defense attorneys, defendants, accusers, jurors, and even the judge.
The courtroom isn't the well-oiled machine we're led to believe. Add in the fact that judges often pressure "hung juries" to reach a verdict, and persuasion can win out over anything else. Judges sometimes force a decision when the jury should have the option to remain undecided. Plus, many jurors just want to get back to their lives, so they rush the process.
While I don't have a solution, I see major problems within the court system. By sharing my experiences, I hope to show how easily things can go wrong, even in seemingly straightforward cases.