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A Jury of His Peers: A Naïve White Girl At the Trial of a Black Man
When I heard that the jury for the trial of George Floyd’s accused murderer was being re-examined to see if they might be tainted by knowledge of the $27M settlement paid from the City of Minneapolis to the victim’s family, I thought back to the last time I appeared for jury duty. It was about 10 years ago.
I got the summons in the mail. I did the whole thing where you call the phone number and listen to find out if you have to go in. I drove to the Baltimore County Courthouse. I sat in the waiting area and watched some boring 90’s rom-com the staff put on the television.
I got called into the courtroom for the jury selection process.
I remember thinking that room was horribly stuffy, with dark wood paneling on every wall, and no windows to the outside. My memories of that courtroom may have melded with memories of the more severe church interiors of my past. I truly remember sitting with the other jurors in rows of pews.
All the way at the very front, there was the high altar of the judicial bench. We stood as the judge entered. As everyone sat back down, the defendant’s attorney took his place on one side in front of the bench and the prosecutor on the other.
