Monday, May 09, 2005
Sworn to silence
Literally!
But, before I was sworn, some things transpired that I can report:
1. Just being called and sitting with several hundred of my fellow citizens in the jury assembly room, and listening to the clerk and presiding judge talk about freedoms, duty and the unique system of jurisprudence we enjoy in this country went a long way toward dissolving a bunch of cynicism I'd let build up. Screw Lee Greenwood and that overplayed song. Today, I am proud to be an American.
2. There were only minimal gimme cap issues. When the judge is in the assembly room, it becomes a court and hats come off. When he left again, some of the good ol' boys were confused about just when they could and could not wear their dadgum hats. I had the sense to leave mine at the house.
3. I went expecting to "people watch." I was struck by how wonderfully average the crowd was. Just folks -- of all colors, national origins and religion. I was reminded of just how WHITE the suburb I live in is.
4. The noninflammatory book I took to read during the waits was Theda Perdue, ed., Cherokee Editor: The Writings of Elias Boudinot (Athens: University of Georgia Press, 1996).
Boudinot was the first editor of the first Indian newspaper on the continent, the Cherokee Phoenix, which started publishing in the 1920s, before the Cherokees, Chickasaws, Choctaws, Creeks and Seiminoles were uprooted and forced west, to Oklahoma, on the infamous Trail of Tears, whereon thousands and thousands died.
Times were tough in the Southeast before removal. Their tribal governments -- constitutional republics for the most part -- were overrun and systematically dismantled. The state of Georgia, specifically, tore down the Cherokee Nation as the United States stood by and watched.
All of which made the following passage on P. 21 so very poignant in light of where I was and what I was taking part in this morning:
" ... The Nation was impotent: Cherokee laws had been abrogated, the judicial system dismantled, and the national police force relieved of all responsibility for maintaining order. Georgia courts offered little protection to Cherokees because a new Grorgia law prevented Indians from testifying against whites. ..."
5. It was pretty clear that some people dressed up for the occasion, some dressed down, and some dressed sideways, that is, they wore what they normally wear on a weekday. I dressed down: jeans and a nice shirt, no tie, and tennis shoes.
6. The men's room off the jury assembly room is the only one I've ever seen with a lounge area, with a couch, table and chairs, in a foyer kind of thing. I thought that was a chick thing exclusively.
7. There were all kinds of "foreign" accents and regional dialects among the potential jurors. Good Lord, it done my redneck heart good to hear lots of y'allses and "do whats?" comin' out of the court officials' mouths.
8. The presiding judge joked, after Oklahoma State University came up for some reason: "Now, y'all know I don't allow certains shades of red in my courtroom. I do have the power to find people in contempt of court for cheering for the wrong school." Or something like that. Obvious negative references to the university of Oklahoma. Very cool, very fun, and everybody seemed to take it in good humor, apparently even the sooner fans. But then, he was de judge. :-)
Silence now, on the rest, until I am released from my oath.
--ER
But, before I was sworn, some things transpired that I can report:
1. Just being called and sitting with several hundred of my fellow citizens in the jury assembly room, and listening to the clerk and presiding judge talk about freedoms, duty and the unique system of jurisprudence we enjoy in this country went a long way toward dissolving a bunch of cynicism I'd let build up. Screw Lee Greenwood and that overplayed song. Today, I am proud to be an American.
2. There were only minimal gimme cap issues. When the judge is in the assembly room, it becomes a court and hats come off. When he left again, some of the good ol' boys were confused about just when they could and could not wear their dadgum hats. I had the sense to leave mine at the house.
3. I went expecting to "people watch." I was struck by how wonderfully average the crowd was. Just folks -- of all colors, national origins and religion. I was reminded of just how WHITE the suburb I live in is.
4. The noninflammatory book I took to read during the waits was Theda Perdue, ed., Cherokee Editor: The Writings of Elias Boudinot (Athens: University of Georgia Press, 1996).
Boudinot was the first editor of the first Indian newspaper on the continent, the Cherokee Phoenix, which started publishing in the 1920s, before the Cherokees, Chickasaws, Choctaws, Creeks and Seiminoles were uprooted and forced west, to Oklahoma, on the infamous Trail of Tears, whereon thousands and thousands died.
Times were tough in the Southeast before removal. Their tribal governments -- constitutional republics for the most part -- were overrun and systematically dismantled. The state of Georgia, specifically, tore down the Cherokee Nation as the United States stood by and watched.
All of which made the following passage on P. 21 so very poignant in light of where I was and what I was taking part in this morning:
" ... The Nation was impotent: Cherokee laws had been abrogated, the judicial system dismantled, and the national police force relieved of all responsibility for maintaining order. Georgia courts offered little protection to Cherokees because a new Grorgia law prevented Indians from testifying against whites. ..."
5. It was pretty clear that some people dressed up for the occasion, some dressed down, and some dressed sideways, that is, they wore what they normally wear on a weekday. I dressed down: jeans and a nice shirt, no tie, and tennis shoes.
6. The men's room off the jury assembly room is the only one I've ever seen with a lounge area, with a couch, table and chairs, in a foyer kind of thing. I thought that was a chick thing exclusively.
7. There were all kinds of "foreign" accents and regional dialects among the potential jurors. Good Lord, it done my redneck heart good to hear lots of y'allses and "do whats?" comin' out of the court officials' mouths.
8. The presiding judge joked, after Oklahoma State University came up for some reason: "Now, y'all know I don't allow certains shades of red in my courtroom. I do have the power to find people in contempt of court for cheering for the wrong school." Or something like that. Obvious negative references to the university of Oklahoma. Very cool, very fun, and everybody seemed to take it in good humor, apparently even the sooner fans. But then, he was de judge. :-)
Silence now, on the rest, until I am released from my oath.
--ER
