Small Business Owners and Jury Duty
Jury Duty is a civic responsibility. In fact, it is more than a responsibility–it is a privilege. But sometimes when it comes around to a small business owner, it can also be a nightmare. Depending on the organization of the business, some owners may have to close for the days they are out and lose much more than the $6 per day he/she will get paid for serving in the jury.
Marci Alboher is a former corporate lawyer who has written about workplace issues and careers for The New York Times since 2001. She currently writes a blog for the Tiimes called “Shifting Careers.” Marcie always has informative things to say and helpful advice to give. I encourage you to read her often. Recently, Marcie posted a couple of articles on her experiences with jury duty. Her first was a couple of days ago in anticipation of serving on jury duty. here is an excerpt of what she said–
“As I prepared for the uncertainty of this week, the part of my life that feels most like a job — this column and blog — was the easiest. My editors understand that I won’t be posting much this week. And I’ve gotten ahead on reporting for my next column. But in other parts of my working life — where I juggle freelance assignments in between my regular writing for The Times — I feel like an entrepreneur with no employees to cover while I am away. Like holidays, jury duty pretty much means that I put in extra hours on the weekends and evenings. Still, I’m not complaining. I chose this life and even though I’m in another one of those crunch times, I am planning a bit of coasting for the summer, when I expect to keep the extra freelancing to a minimum. So stay tuned for a report from the jury room.”
Today, Marcie posted her experience after her jury duty was finished. Here is some of what she said–
“After all my anticipation and anxiety, jury duty came and went in a flash. Day 1 was interesting. And short. I arrived at 60 Centre Street at 8:45 a.m. along with throngs of fellow citizens and took my seat. The clerks who run the jury process — two women so polished they could play their roles in “Jury Duty, the Movie” — began orientation with a list of rules. They sprinkled their instructions with more than a few well-placed one-liners….The final piece of orientation was an informative and engaging film about the history of jury duty, narrated by the late Ed Bradley and Diane Sawyer. I especially liked the re-enactment of a “trial by ordeal” ritual in which medieval European villagers watch as an accused was thrown into the water to see whether he would sink (innocent) or float (guilty). When he didn’t float, his family rushed in to save him, the tricky part of innocence being that you needed to be pulled out of the water before you actually drowned. The film was successful; I was convinced of the wisdom of the jury system.
Clerk #1 admonished us to take our jobs for the next two days as seriously as any other work we do. I genuinely started to hope I would get to play my role in a trial, especially if the trial managed to stay within the two-to-three-day range that Clerk #2 told us was the average length of a civil case….By 10:30 it was time for business. The first 30 names were called. No Alboher on the list. By 11:15, just as I had finished the morning papers and caught up on the BlackBerry, Clerk #1 returned to announce some “good news.” She had no more requests for juries that day, so we were dismissed until 10 o’clock the next morning. I met a friend for lunch and played hooky for the rest of the day.
This morning I returned, eager to see what my final chance would bring. I settled into my chair, and before I could even crack open my newspaper, Clerk #1 asked for our attention. She had a request for a jury and would begin calling out 30 names….Just as I was convincing myself, I’d be passed over, I heard it. “Alboher, Seat #30.” Off I went to my first voir dire.
Clerk #2 was in charge of collecting the jury questionnaires and getting us into our assigned seats….Now organized, our handler asked us to put away our reading and headsets and give the attorneys our attention. As she left the room, she turned back and announced, “Do me proud, jurors!” Moments later, one of the attorneys called for a break. “It’s fine to read,” she added. Books and papers were reopened.Ten minutes passed and the lawyers returned. The case — which had been going on since 2003 — was settled. The lawyers both thanked us. “Without your help,” one of them said, “we’d never have been able to do that.”
We return to the the jury room and our names went back into the hopper. Thirty minutes later, about 11:15, Clerk #1 took the microphone. “I have good news,” she said. “You have completed your service. The rest of the day is your own to do with as you please. And our records will show you were here for the day.” Rumblings began about whether people were going back to work. I debated it myself. I took the long route home, treating myself to lunch and a latte with the magazines I’d not even had time to finish. And then I remembered that I had promised a blog post about jury duty. So back to work I went. That’s what it means to work for yourself.
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