photo and sketch by author
The weight of the world sat on our shoulders. We understood that it’s not our job to right the wrongs of the rest of the world in known history. It was only our job to decide this one murder case.
Nonetheless, the pressure was present there in the courtroom no matter how tightly the doors were closed. It crushed down on us in the low ceiling of the courtroom. It seeped in through the leaky window sills.
A dozen random people thrown together to judge a peer. The rules are strange because you can’t talk about the case until after you’ve seen and heard all the evidence. You spend days with these strangers, making small talk, unable to talk about the elephant in the room, which is all the questions and information you have about the case.
Then, at deliberation, that’s all you talk about. And then you say goodbye, likely never seeing these people again. You have just altered the path of someone’s life — likely many people’s lives — with people you don’t know, and will never know. It’s weird.
doodle by author
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A group of “peers” consisting of mostly middle-aged white people. One mixed race man. All reasonable it seemed, at least on the surface. Cases like this one require a leap of faith to come to the conclusion that the defendant did commit a murder. Nothing is ever black and white. Nuance is everywhere. The verdict is certainly beyond a reasonable doubt, but that doubt does in fact border on reasonable.
Yes, it was only one murder case, but think about that for a minute. If you’re anything like me, you tend to consider as many variables as you can before the overwhelm sets in and your head explodes.
One murder branches out to dozens of other themes. Trauma, abuse, neglect, drug culture, mental health, systemic racism, police corruption, the use of technology, civil rights, etc. It is never just about one thing.
Systemic racism is evident everywhere. Perhaps it is entirely purposeful, or perhaps it’s an unintended consequence. It’s entirely possible that systemic racism still exists because of our obsession with the past. Or because we’re shitty, emotional people. I don’t know; that issue is too big for me today.
I’ve been traumatized by the things I saw this week. I am sad for humanity.
I sat and listened for three long days about people that live a deplorable lifestyle — one that I simply can’t fathom. A beautiful little girl living in a house with no mattress for her to sleep on. She sleeps on the floor with a party going on downstairs after running around the house all night. She’s around grown men and women smoking mountains of pot, drinking, waving guns, having sex, and likely anything else you can't imagine.
Tell me what chance this beautiful little girl has to escape that world. It’s all she knows. We already know that humans pass down trauma from generation to generation. We’re all coping with that trauma in one way or another. I don’t blame anyone for their unhealthy coping mechanisms, but how does one escape that vicious cycle if they’re never given an opportunity? If they’re never shown that there’s another way? These people simply don’t have a chance. They’re doomed to repeat their own history.
White cops show up at the door. Black men are cuffed and hauled off to jail. Lives in ruin. Men dead on the street. Entire communities living in disgraceful conditions. How could these officers who have seen such awful things every day not grow resentful? How can patterns not form in their minds? Maybe it is their fault. But maybe all of them are just doing the best they can, too.
How do we ever escape this cycle?
I saw some things this week I didn’t want to see. I did the best I could with the information given to me. That is all any of us can do. I’ll be seeing these images in my mind for a long time. This article is just my way of starting to process it all. It’s not a scathing indictment of the American justice system, it’s just some thoughts.
Take care of each other and love yourself today.