Day 64: A Citizen’s Guide to Surviving Jury Duty

While away at school this last year, I got called for jury duty.  Rather than just calling one of the other MILLIONS of registered voters and drivers in the state, the Ramsey County court system decided that my civic duty was not to be ignored, but rather postponed.  So this week, instead of going to work, I have a new way of helping people avoid the criminal justice system (hopefully).

What I have discovered about jury duty thus far:
1. It is INCREDIBLY boring. You sit in a basement room with the other 114 potential jurors and twiddle your thumbs, waiting to be called into a courtroom. It is even worse if you had to leave at the crack of dawn to take the bus downtown.
2. Many people will not even get questioned during the week (including myself).  While a group may be called into a courtroom, only some of those will be questioned to see if they would be suitable jurors and even fewer of them (12) will be chosen as jurors.
3. People actually try to get out of jury duty. I didn’t hear anyone say they were racist/sexist, but many claimed that they could not be impartial in order to escape that potential jury.
4. The judge/attorneys ask some really intimate questions regarding each juror’s life, family, friends, and beliefs. I know way more about that random selection of people than I need to.
5. TAKE THE OPTIONAL TOUR

My jury duty diet. It tasted as bad as it looks.

These were the second-fastest elevators in the world when they were built with the courthouse in 1932.

City Council meeting room (from my tour of the courthouse)

The Peace Pipe statue that dominates the courthouse lobby.  It is full of Native American symbolism, yet most of it not native to local populations and tribes. This might have something to do with the fact that the artist was a Swede and knew nothing about American Indians…

July 21, 2014: 302 more days as an official Ramsey County resident transplant

Day 18: Just a working girl in the big city

Spent my morning in the Hennepin County Courthouse listening to expungement hearings. It was really interesting seeing it first from the petitioners side at the seminar earlier this week and then seeing the official court take on things. One case in particular really affected me and brought home the cyclical and disturbing effects of poverty. It was an older woman petitioning for expungement on the basis that she kept getting denied assisted living places based on her record. This woman was accompanied by her advocate who said she is living in a group home right now but would like to move into a place where she can have a little more independence. According to the advocate, this woman was suffering from mental illnesses, but was on medication and working to keep it under control. Although the advocate did most of the talking, it was clear that the woman had some mental disabilities as well. Upon looking up her records, I saw that the charges she was trying to expunge were three cases of prostitution. This woman was a perfect example of the cycle of poverty, often involving drugs/alcohol, mental illness, and crime. It astounds me that society allowed this woman to reach her current state, that a woman with mental health issues (and possible mental disabilities) would have to resort to prostitution, and for several years. That is a fate none of us would wish on our mothers, daughters, sisters, nieces, granddaughters, or friends.

After court, I managed to get lost walking in Minneapolis (thanks to the skyways) and then drop my Caribou coffee for the second time this week.  All of this on top of having horrible blisters from my wedges because I forgot to get my pants tailored and normal human pants fit me like an oompa loompa.  This rough day ended on a couple of happy notes.  I went to Sea Change (the restaurant in the Guthrie) with my coworkers for happy hour/goodbye party for another coworker, which was really fun and provided me an opportunity to eat my weight in fries. Then I got to see my friend Rylee for the first time in ages while we gorged ourselves on takeout Chinese–the best remedy to a long day.

P.S. I’m actually considering wearing my tennis shoes tomorrow.

June 5, 2014: 347 more days until I wear another pair of heels

The picture I took about 10 seconds before I threw my coffee across the sidewalk

My friend from Yale who is also living at Danebo, Karen, sent me this snapchat of her using my new Caribou mug that I got at headquarters. The Yale interns are having a hard time pronouncing all the names of things (apparently Minne-ha-ha is quite a mouthful) and do not understand my adoration for Caribou. They’ll learn.