[Flash] When the Prosecutors Wanted Our Advice: Jury Duty and the Power of Perspective

I blocked my calendar, but complained for weeks about the inconvenience, desperately searching for excuses to be dismissed.

When I begrudgingly arrived at the courthouse, I felt like Molly Ringwald’s character in the iconic 80s movie The Breakfast Club, showing up for Saturday detention, beseeching Mr. Vernon’s compassion for her unfortunate circumstances. She pouted, “Sir, I think there’s been a mistake. I don’t think I belong in here.”

Unfazed by my brooding, the bailiff smiled warmly, handed me a juror number, and directed me to sit with the rest of the summoned to watch video instructions.

Slowly, I shifted my irritation to curiosity. I was determined to make the most of the experience.

When the bailiff called our juror numbers and marched us into a courtroom for jury selection, I admittedly found myself swept up in the process, ironically even a little giddy that I was chosen to be on the jury!

After we were sworn in, the attorneys made their opening statements, called witnesses, and presented closing arguments. We deliberated for an hour and returned a Not Guilty verdict, concluding that the prosecution had not proven the defendant’s guilt beyond a reasonable doubt.

Back in the jury room, the bailiff asked if the two prosecuting attorneys could meet with us before we left.

We agreed, but tentatively… was this a normal part of the process?

Then the prosecutors did something surprising…

They asked for our advice.

They didn’t want to relitigate the case or question our judgment.

They wanted to know our experience with them as prosecutors, our perspective on the case, and any advice we could offer to help them improve. 

• Where had they failed to make their case? 
• What did we hear that led to our Not Guilty verdict? 
• What could they have done differently? 
• Did we mind that one of them was wearing a nose ring? (We didn’t.)
• Could we tell this was their first case argued in court? (We couldn’t.)

The attorneys didn’t miss the opportunity to learn from us directly. They didn’t hide behind their law degrees, a feedback form, or their own righteousness.

They weren’t embarrassed, defensive, or agitated.

They were curious.

And that humility and vulnerability made us eager to engage in the conversation and contribute.

All they did was show up and ask, “What did you see?”

© 2026. Ann Tardy and MentorLead. www.mentorlead.com. All Rights Reserved.