Always spare the chair

Awareness sneaks up on us, one step at a time, until it strikes. We're blissfully mindless -- then something turns up in three conversations during one week. We shake our heads to clear them, but suddenly we realize we're initiating the very same conversations -- and our awareness can no longer be ignored. How do we move from ignorance to needing, really needing to act on a cause? What finally triggers such urgency for some and not others? I asked these questions when I recently gave away a paycheck. Usually I write "For deposit only" on my checks, sign my name and put them in the bank. But this time, I turned my check over and wrote "Pay to the order of the National Coalition for the Abolition of the Death Penalty." I endorsed it and mailed it away. It was just a $9 check, received in August for one day of jury duty. Yet despite its small amount, that check was symbolic. I'd been called for duty twice before. I sat in a cavernous room with low ceilings, waiting for my name to be called. Neither time was I selected. In August, though, I knew somehow I'd be placed on a jury. Although service was likely to take a week or more, I was willing. I felt I was the type of juror a prosecutor or defendant would want, because I am thoughtful, attentive and impartial. When I arrived, I got a questionnaire. Clearly, answering some questions "wrong" would keep me out of the jury box, including "Would you be more likely to believe the testimony of a police officer?" Could you refrain from holding anything "against the defendant if he or she elects to remain silent?" Because jurors are supposed to ferret out truth, I couldn't lie. Still, I did not want to disqualify myself, denying the city a capable juror. I read each question carefully. To my surprise, I was always able to answer "correctly." Mid-afternoon, I was brought to a courtroom, where a judge explained we would be hearing a murder trial of two men accused of a drug hit. I continued, truthfully, to answer his questions "correctly." Finally, the judge asked "Would you, under any circumstances, even circumstances which by law made it called for, be able to give a punishment of death?" Whoa! Suddenly awareness came and smacked me hard between the eyes. I had come to determine guilt or innocence, to separate lies from truth, to right the wrongs in the U.S. I didn't come to fry a guy. I wanted to lie, rationalizing it so I could remain with no pangs of conscience, but couldn't. I was immediately excused, given the aforementioned check and sent home. I was outraged. Ethically, the judge was stacking the deck for death, rather than providing a "jury of one's peers." If, for example, 90 percent of Philadelphians were against the death penalty, they wouldn't be represented on that jury. Almost unconstitutional! I pondered how to use the check I couldn't cash. Then I got a letter mentioning the NCADP. Smack! again between the eyes. I sent them the check, with a letter. Then an acquaintance invited me to a reception for the NCADP director. Smack! It was time to write this column. As suddenly as I became aware, I'm an activist.