kwcourtreporting.com

One of the most impressive things about sitting on a jury is watching the court reporter. I’d like to think that I am someone who can fully focus when the need arises, but I will admit my mind’s propensity to wander.

(For example, after typing the word propensity, I took a 30-second detour, considering if I should use a different word, such as predilection or tendency or proclivity, which led me to think about how all those words sound kind of similar, and I asked myself, Are any of these words made from combining two other words? Then I went to ask Google if that’s a thing and read about portmanteaus, which don’t relate to any of the words I originally typed, but is the category heading for words like smog and hangry and spork. So anyway, what was I talking about? Oh, yes. My amazing ability to focus…)

In the courtroom, the reporter’s fingers were typing away with superhuman speed while she maintained a neutral expression on her face. A few times she asked the lawyers and witnesses not to speak over each other or to speak more clearly, but she never seemed flustered. She continued to listen carefully. She was in the zone.

I was amazed at her ability to work for hours at a time, recording all the details for future use. All of us jurors were given pads and pens to make our own notes, but my jots and doodles were nothing in comparison to her verified account of what was said and presented in the trial, including the conversations that only the judge and attorneys were privy to.

So what made her account of the trial so accurate? There’s an intentionality to her work—she’s been trained, has had years of experience, and completely concentrates, dialing in to her role in that courtroom each time she sits at her desk. That court reporter wasn’t a witness to the events which resulted in the trial, but she took down the words of those who were so there would be a record.

Her intentionality made me think of the frequent inaccuracy of many eyewitnesses. I read a staggering statistic the other day: The false identification of a suspect is the greatest cause of wrongful conviction in the U.S. According to the Innocence Project at the Cardozo School of Law, “eyewitness misidentification has played a significant role in over 75% of the more than 230 exonerations that have occurred to date based on DNA evidence.”

That blew me away, but once I started thinking more about it, I realized that it made sense. An eyewitness most likely doesn’t know he’s going to be present for a crime until the thing is happening right in front of him. Sure, he may give incorrect information for nefarious purposes, or he may panic. His brain may misinterpret and misremember the details, possibly to shield him from trauma. But he still feels convinced that what he’s saying is what really happened. Conversely, the court reporter is prepared for what she’s going to hear. She drank her coffee or Diet Coke. She’s cracked her knuckles like Bugs Bunny sitting down at a baby grand piano. Now her fingers hover over the keys, ready to begin.

Even if I’m never called to give testimony in a trial (which I hope I never will), I am called to be a witness. And the more dialed in and intentional I am, the better my testimony will be. In his most famous sermon recorded in Scripture, Jesus told the people, “You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.” We have a powerful, light-shining, God-glorifying testimony to share if only we are willing to pay attention to what has happened in our lives.