that one time at jury duty
A few years back, I was summoned to jury duty for a murder trial here in our county. I’d been called before, a handful of times actually, but had never actually had to go in to be interviewed as a potential juror.
In the process, you’re asked to fill out a questionnaire of something like 100 questions, asking various things about your background and how fit you are to be on a jury, etc. They’re redundant about how important it is to be completely honest and to disclose anything that would affect your ability to fill the role with integrity.
So when I came to the question, “Do you believe that the CWC Judicial system is fair and honest?” (or something along those lines) — I didn’t hesitate to answer,
No.
Truthfully, I figured this would flag me right away and I wouldn’t get called back in for the next step in the process… But, I was wrong.
A week or so goes by, and here I go again, off to jury duty — where this time I’m called to the witness stand to be questioned before the entire court as to my ability to sit as juror (or not) for this trial.
After some conversation with the judge, he brings attention to my response from the questionnaire about my belief regarding the honesty of the judicial system, and could I please elaborate.
So I simply said,
“How far would you like to go back? The history goes deep. I am by no means outrightly against law enforcement, however I am fully aware that the system is broken and there’s a lot of corruption happening here in our county.”
Crickets and blank faces.
For real.
From there, the judge asked the defendant’s lawyer if he had any questions for me.
“Well, Mrs. Britton,” he says,”Let me ask you this. If you believe that the system is broken…
How would you fix it?”
Ohhhhh myyyy goodness. I nearly pinched myself. You mean... I have a microphone and a full crowd before me, and they want to hear how I would fix this mess? Am I sleeping? Surely this is some wild dream.
I smiled, took a glance around the room, leaned in a little closer to that mic, and in my clearest voice said,
“Personally, I wouldn’t start with the system at all. It’s too far gone. I would start with the mothers. If we were to support mothers well, they’d be more able to raise their children, and statistically, crime rates would decrease exponentially.”
And just like that, from the eyes in the crowd looking back at me, you’d have figured I grew another head or something even more strange.
Is that a bizarre thing to say?
What a gauge that is of the world we’re living in — where basic foundational components to a healthy and thriving society are looked at as absolutely absurd,, crazy, lavish, selfish, or altogether unrealistic to ask.
But it’s true.
Studies grounded in Attachment Theory indicate that secure maternal attachment serves as the strongest buffer against a life of crime, while maternal deprivation or separation, particularly during early childhood (ages 0–3), is a primary predictor of later antisocial behavior.
They also indicate that when there is a lack of maternal attachment, or the mother is depressed and dissociated from her baby after birth and in the baby’s early years,
“boys with early adversity [with the mother / the mother is suffering from PPD] are more likely to have difficulties with language and intellectual development, attention deficit disorder (ADD), behavioral problems, conduct disorder, violence, future substance misuse and criminality.
There is also evidence that if girls have early adversity, poor attachment, suffer neglect or insecure attachment, they are more likely to develop personality disorder, depression, anxiety and self-harming behavior.
The negative impacts of postpartum depression are serious and need to be acknowledged.”
And to this I’ll say — postpartum depression is a perfectly appropriate response to mothering in isolation. We are not meant to raise our babies alone.
So, we want to change the world?
Let’s support the mothers.
And for the record — no, they didn’t call me back to their jury and I was completely content with that.
I am needed elsewhere.