We’re just back from Philly, the family and I – Independence Hall, The Liberty Bell, National Constitution Center – the works. The Bell, of course, is an interesting symbol, having cracked right away, and not having actually rung in over 100 years.  On the lawn of the Independence Mall there was a small but vocal group endlessly chanting “Free Tibet Now”.  And inside the National Constitution Center, the newest and most up to date site in the area, is a video about Jury Duty. The handsome young man depicting a court officer greets the audience with: “You got the card in the mail; naturally, you want to get out of it, if you can.” Isn’t that a statement about citizenship today? 

It put me in mind of my own jury experience about a year ago, an assault case tried in the Lowell, MA courthouse. It was the first time I had actually served. Honestly, I would have been happy to be dismissed; I was far back in line, hoping to be cut. But one by one, potential jurors fell away, many of them indicating by a show of hand that they were currently involved in legal proceedings and/or had been victims of violent crime. But I was chosen, one of three women and a roomful of guys, ranging from a pierced 22 year old who entertained us with  tales of “dumpster diving”, to an older Italian gentleman, always in a suit and tie, whose wife, it turned out, worked at our local Homegoods, where I knew her from her nametag. Furthermore, I was made jury foreperson, to my surprise.

 The defendant was a hulking 23 year old accused of assault with dangerous weapons on two men during a frat party: one victim was stabbed in the back 3 times and the other was struck on the head by a blunt object – supposedly the defendant’s arm cast – no kidding. The parade of witnesses featured one seemingly irresponsible, inarticulate young man after another.  The case was not clear-cut and took serious discussion for us to decide the verdict. But we did it, taking our time, discussing the elements, drawing diagrams on the board, and, at my prodding, hearing from all members what they found most relevant in the testimony. Occasionally, I had to redirect conversation, but, by and large, it was a serious, intelligent process of ordinary people deliberating hard questions. We found the defendant guilty of the blows to the head, but innocent of the stabbing, which appeared physically impossible from the testimony. On the way out afterwards, one of the court officers, a short, plump version of Paul McCartney, took me aside and said, “You have me to thank for being jury foreperson. I knew you were the best one for it, and you did a great job.” A nicer compliment I can’t recall.

 Things in Independence Park and then again on the fields of Gettysburg feel a whole lot different to me having served as an imperfect juror in an imperfect justice system.  I just wonder how we as American citizens got to the point of wanting so badly to avoid our “duty”, never mind those who never vote. Certainly, there are inconveniences and reasons to be skeptical, but isn’t that also true of parenthood and education? As a traveler outside the US, I’ve encountered criticism of America’s actions and its role in the world, as well admiration and the strong influences of American culture. We have yet to live up to our ideals as a nation, but it is still a miracle that this form of government came into existence at all. What will happen to American democracy — a great experiment which has no guarantee of continued success —if not enough people choose to participate in it? It's a government that runs on volunteers (although they still have to follow the laws)  Who will be left to ring the Liberty Bell?