You may never serve on a jury, but suppose you did.
How would you feel—how would any of us feel—if we voted to convict someone innocent?
This person knows. In 2009, she voted to convict a 17-year-old boy for murder based on the testimony of one eyewitness. The witness and victim were friends, and they were in a car at the time, with the victim driving. They turned a corner and almost hit a pedestrian, which led to a confrontation that ended when the guy pulled a gun, shot the victim, and fled. At trial, the witness took the stand and identified the boy, and that was enough for her and nine other jurors in a state that only required ten of twelve to convict.
Now when she thinks back to the trial, she sees things differently.
She remembers the boy sitting in court: slumped over, doodling on paper. Back then, she thought his body language seemed cavalier, like he knew he did it but didn’t care. Now she wonders about that, and she sees defeat and despair instead.
She remembers the eyewitness seemed so sure of his identification. Back then, she thought it made sense: If she had seen her friend get murdered, she’d remember who did it, too. Since then, she’s learned that eyewitnesses are often wrong, especially in times of stress and trauma. And yet by the time of trial, they may testify with total certainty.
Today, she wants to sit with the boy and tell him she’s sorry.
And she hopes she never has to be in that situation again.
But if it were me or my loved one, I’d want her on that jury.