Literally, most of the time, I work from home while my daughter is at day care. The answer to that question is both yes (figuratively speaking) and no. The court administrator seemed as baffled as I was that I had made it this far into jury duty at all, though for a different reason: “Do you work outside the home?” she asked me through squinted eyes. There, several times that day, I would prop the chair behind me, hike my shirt up to my collarbone, hook my breasts up to bottles and wires, and eke out a few ounces of milk in earshot of my fellow jurors - one of whom repeatedly banged on the door, apparently looking for her scarf. She brushed me aside to a court administrator, who led me to a shabby waiting room adjoining the main jury hall it had two non-locking doors, so she jammed a chair behind the knob before letting herself out. “We’ll accommodate you.”īut the same officer looked irritated when I soon asked to be accommodated. “Don’t worry,” the officer told me instead, ushering me officially into the jury pool. I was only a couple of weeks back from maternity leave, and I fully expected to be excused shortly after telling the court officer I’d need to step out every couple of hours, for about 30 minutes each time, to pump milk for my 4-month-old. Photo-Illustration: Josiah Whitfield Photos: GettyĪbout 90 minutes into jury duty in March, I began to wish I hadn’t shown up.
