August 6, 1999
By Rebecca Reichmann
A few months ago, I was summoned for the first time to jury duty and was able to observed first-had how our legal system, while often glacial and cumbersome, extends itself to protect our rights. I never got further than jury selection, but that alone was a window into our labyrinthine operations.
The defendant in our case was a young man from Cambodia who sat stock-still, listening to the court proceedings through a court-appointed interpreter. I couldn't help but wonder what he thought of us. Scanning the room, I found assembled the broadest imaginable cross section of San Diegans. We surely believed that we had nothing in common with one another. Addressing a retired construction supervisor, a registered nurse, an unemployed bank teller, a recovering substance abuser, a slick attorney, on and on, the judge painstakingly explained every step of the process to us - a panel of jurors ignorant of courtroom arcane.
She used the most ordinary possible language to walk us through the presumption of innocence, the admonition to hold off on forming opinions until the moment the jury could deliberate. Taking her time with each of the prospective jurors, she asked each of us to search our own lives for any past experiences that might influence our thinking about this case. Any bad experiences with law enforcement? Any feelings of violation as victims of crime? Among us, one woman had been robbed at gunpoint, another had a close friend who was murdered, and a few had been arrested themselves for domestic violence or DUIs. Would we be able to separate ourselves from those past experiences in order to think clearly about this case? Could we listen impartially? One by one, each potential juror reflected, out loud. The judge encouraged questions.
Following all this with his headphones, the Cambodian defendant must have thought we were all out of our minds. Was this a trial or a therapy session? Where he came from, a trial, if there was one at all, normally consisted of officers shouting charges, probable condemnation in the same breath. The outcomes might have been decided long before the trial began . Just as often charges and testimony would be precluded by summary execution. (I had read just that morning about UN Secretary General Kofi Annan's "concerns about Cambodia's judicial system and its ability to meet the minimal standards of justice.")
Would a woman ever be in charge of a Cambodian trial?
What did our young defendant think we were up to? Why did the judge feel compelled to tell everyone the interpreter was a court employee, not allied with the defendant, when he rushed back to the courtroom, late from a coffee break? What was the judge trying to get at with all those personal questions, forcing jurors to reveal their private injuries? Was this a Eastern form of self-criticism, de reguer among leftist comrades at home? But, as those familiar with our judicial system know, the judge was not looking for any apologies - just an honest consideration of whether we could be open to the truth.
All this, for our defendant. For his benefit: the engagement of a public prosecutor, the court interpreter, the two recorders, the bailiff, various clerks, the time of these three dozen would-be jurors on leave from their value-adding jobs and activities... not to mention the judge's precious time. We were all mobilized as a routine matter: to protect the right of one single newcomer in our midst _ not even yet speaking our language - to a fair trial.
Was there any question, on any of our parts, about whether we should all be there doing this, hour after hour? Sure, two prospective jurors made clear to the judge they did not want to be there. The vast majority, when queried, felt sure they could be fair in this trial. We had this in common.
Throughout its history, America has confronted the challenge of creating unity among diverse population. The perception of the United States as a society populated primarily by a White majority and a Black and Native American minority is yielding to a new multiethnic reality. At The San Diego Foundation, we are looking for solutions to create a more civil society for all who call this region home. Through our Intergroup Relations Project, the San Diego Millennium Project, and our Neighborhood Civic Funds, to name a few, we are addressing the problems that face our region's every-changing population.
In this country, we take for granted that a tedious day or two of jury duty is a small price to pay for our democracy. With officially sanctioned violence surfacing around the globe, where governments fail to protect their citizens from genocide or are perpetrators themselves, our due process--unwieldy as it is--is a prize the whole world wants.
(Rebecca Reichmann is Vice President, Community Partnerships, The San Diego Foundation.)
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