Dear friend,

Is your time up?

If you are a U.S. citizen like myself, it’s that infamous letter in the mail. ‘You have been summoned for jury duty.’

Once or twice I had to postpone it due to life: a wedding, being out of state and such. But this time, this time. It was time.

You know, it’s so true that something happens when you least expect it.

I was called in for jury duty. The courthouse felt historic yet familiar. Those who weren’t excused for one reason or another were called into the courtroom by the judge.

I remember entering the courtroom and the lights were bright. ‘In God we trust’ in silver letters behind the judge. All eyes on us—the defendant, the lawyer of the defendant, two prosecutors, several court officers and the stenographer—the 45 people moseying in the pews.

Then we learned about the case from the judge. It was a criminal larceny case and the defendant was a young adult, 26.

Before we knew it, it was then time to select individuals to be questioned to be a part of the jury. Imagine a ‘bingo-like’ machine that they used to randomly select cards which had our names on them. A hand reached in to grab the first one. My inner voice “Don’t be me, don’t be me…It’s not going to be me…” (a longer pause introspectively) “Oh wait, it’s going to be me.”

They call out “Melanie” Juror number 1. (Me!)

What are the odds?! Granted it was a one in 45 shot, but still.

We were instructed by the judge to be fair jurors, judge the credibility of the witness equally regardless of their position in law enforcement or not, and that the defendant is innocent till proven guilty, among other points.

All in all the trial lasted a week and we listened to four witnesses—and it was an emotional ride. The jury was made up of 12 people and we had 3 alternates. A diverse group of people in age, ethnicity, gender-identity, height, and those diversities unseen and not perceived by the human eye.

Although we entered the room as strangers from different walks of life, we were all there united under a common cause for justice.

When it came to deliberations, as juror number 1, I was the foreperson. Essentially I learned from the judge that I would be the person to ensure that everyone’s voice was heard, be the one to request evidence, and then… deliver the verdict in the courtroom.

Oh gosh.

After analyzing all the evidence, we eventually came to a verdict which reflected what we saw, heard, and felt.

Guilty.

I signed the verdict sheet and then the court officer validated what I signed. I was then handed a white envelope with ‘Verdict’ in black ink. I never knew a piece of paper could feel so heavy. Another juror asked me “How do you feel?” and I replied “The only way I can do this is by separating myself from my emotions.”

My heart was racing. Pounding. Fast. The fate of someone was in my hands.

Walking into the courtroom all eyes on us. Everyone in anticipation for the news that only the 12 of us in the entire world knew, and me the one responsible to share it. (Me!)

‘Please rise.’ When I stood, another woman, whom I have never seen before, started reading the first charge and then passed the ball to my court. My heartbeat was echoing across my entire body. I opened the envelope then the paper. Slowly and meticulously. I looked up and said “We the jury…find the defendant guilty.” I could hear and feel the nerves in my own voice.

We were asked by both lawyers to repeat back if we all agreed with the verdict. A symphony of guilty. I got one last look at the defendant and my heart truly ached. I saw the humanity in the person and separated them from their crime.

And that was it. We were thanked for our service and waited till we got our lunch that we so deserved. I wanted my cheese calzone. (Love a cheese calzone!)

When I eventually got home, I popped. An emotional rainbow filled with many, many tears. Charged with sadness over systemic racism, lack of accessibility, access, and equity to name a few. Wondering why people make certain decisions and who they are impacted by to make those decisions. The empathic and sensitive person in me was emotionally exhausted. Praying that the defendant finds light at the end of the tunnel and has hope for better days ahead. As a multi-racial person and family, this all hits hard. I was, and am, so grateful to have been comforted by my loved ones when I needed it.

Having come out of jury duty weeks ago, this experience taught me that you are put in situations that you may not be mentally prepared for, but there are bigger plans and powers at work. I believe that.

I kept questioning “Why me? Why was I assigned to this case and randomly selected to be the foreperson?” Perhaps it wasn’t so random. I guess it was written in my stars. You know what, “Why not me?” I was so nervous and scared… yes…but I did it. I did it anyway. And now it is another layer to the person I am. Another experience that makes up the mosaic of me.

For me, this jury duty experience was a culmination of all that I was challenging myself within 2023: strengthening how to trust my instincts, nurturing myself out of my comfort zone, and embracing the rainbow of valid emotions.