Civil Disobedience, part 1

"Action from principle - the perception and the performance of right - changes things and relations; it is essentially revolutionary, and does not consist wholly with anything which was... It divides the individual, separating the diabolical in him from the divine."

- H.D. Thoreau 

Aloha. My name is Cody Jo. I am a 3rd-year undergrad at the University of New Mexico, currently studying existentialism, peace/justice studies, and non-fiction. As a seeker of truth, I have been inspired by the global enthusiasm to create a better way, and have been present at some of the (un)Occupy Albuquerque events, but I would not define myself as an active member of the movement. My presence as a student and compassionate observer is my primary occupation.

I represent one student, reading a book - the most fundamental function of being a student - while on university grounds, at Yale Park - a crime which I was arrested for on Wednesday evening October 26. Was it a bad place to read a book? I considered my environment to be a sphere of learning and was allowed to sit on a bench, undisturbed for twenty minutes. After the news crews packed up, the police approached me, but other than threats to arrest me for "disobedience," could offer me no logical explanation for my sudden expulsion from the park. Any one else might have just walked away, and seeing as I was the only person there who was arrested Wednesday evening, I imagine everyone else did. The point is, I shouldn't have had to walk away. I asked the police if I was in danger or if I posed a threat and they said no; what it came down to was 'you do what we tell you to do because our boss told us to do this.' Well that notion just happens to run completely counter to a personal principle of mine, so I resolutely defied their order. I was yanked from my seat and arrested. I did not resist but was man-handled to the point of painful bruising. In coming to this university I do not remember signing any kind of contract that ordained campus security as my superiors. I was under the impression that campus security is there to protect me, not to oppress me. UNMPD were overzealous in their methods but they believed they were just following orders, which means President Something Schmidley is the one responsible for this spot of trouble. As a private citizen in a public park where I was breaking no laws, I wasn't compelled to obey Schmidley's paranoid mandate. Only after I was handcuffed did the officers take the book I had been reading out of my hands. There were a dozen or so witnesses and, fortunately, a fellow student was fast enough to catch my unlawful arrest on film...

If the role of the president is to arrest a student on the grounds that they are in violation of his impromptu Draconian laws, then every student is at risk! I experienced direct violence, harsh detainment, and the establishment of a criminal record as a result of President Schmidley's inability to negotiate with experienced peace-keepers. I cannot guess at his motive there but it seems like something a desperate dictator might do - isolate himself, bark orders, and apply militaristic pressure to dissidents and bystanders alike. I know that nobody in the (un)Occupy Albuquerque movement would ever harm me in any way, but what I did not know is that agents of the university would harm me, while in my functions as a student. I have lost confidence in President Schmidley's ability to protect his students from himself. I call for his immediate resignation and for the easement of tensions between university administration and peaceful organizers.

A Record of Events leading up to & following my arrest...

Upon arriving at Yale Park, at around 6:07 Wednesday evening (October 26, 2011), the (un)Occupy Albuquerque protestors were being herded off the grass by campus security. They responded by chanting, "this is what a police state looks like." Many of the prior night's arrestees had returned from their brief incarcerations. I noticed how the fire of sunset was alight on the skins of the protestors and police alike. The General Assembly quickly relocated across the street to Satellite Coffee. I was suppose to meet someone, but since I couldn't find them I moved away from the police and took a seat on a bench beneath the tall pines. While waiting for my friend's textual response, I looked around. A news crew surveyed the park and the campus police were occupied with fending off occupiers. As I sat here, for twenty minutes or so, I read from Henry Miller's 'Wisdom of the Heart.' I had no trouble focusing, for I read on campus every day, and while people walked to and fro, I was left peacefully alone.

Miller attributed the sickness of society to people's lack of faith in life, whereby they respond to most stimuli with a negative, or defensive, reaction. Please, follow how this works. Because the people in power fear the end of their power, they tend to function negatively, and in turn, the majority of the structure beneath their seat must also respond negatively. The top-dog then develops a fear that anything not for him - that is to include, anything that is not of benefit to him - must be against him. They retreat into their fear and become dictators, if not in position then in spirit; From their mouths are issued oppressive edicts by which to solidify their authority. Subsequently, the entire chain of command carries out these demands and in "doing their jobs" commit a disservice to society, whom must readjust themselves according to the effect of this negativity. Society then roars up and says to the dictator, "you are wrong and we hate you," which bolsters his insecurity. The vicious cycle goes 'round and 'round, society slips back, freedoms are lost, and peace is forfeit. This is "the law of infinite regress."

So for twenty minutes I sat here, reading, as the news crews wrapped and headed out, when suddenly a loud voice barked from behind, "Sir, you've got to leave the park." I looked up to see five police officers, in full battle gear, march around the trees and surround my bench. Startled as I was, I had not been ignorant of this possibility when I sat down, and spoke with alert calmness, "Oh, I'm not here for the general assembly," I said.

"It doesn't matter, you have to go now."

"Am I in some kind of danger?" I asked.

"No. Yale park is closed."

"Do I pose some kind of threat?"

"No, but we're shutting down the park and you have to leave."

"So, the university is closed?" I ask, trying to make logical sense of their request.

"The rest of the university is open, you may go anywhere, but you have to leave this park immediately or you will be subject to arrest."

"But I'm a student here, reading a book at my university. It doesn't make sense that you would suddenly close part of it and arrest anybody that was there."

One of the campus cops bent down to eye level, "please just leave," he said. "There's no point in getting arrested."

"You're right, there'd be no point in that. You don't have to arrest me. You're the ones bothering me. Who says I can't be here?"

"The president of the university has ordered us to close this park and if you make the choice to stay here we will arrest you."

"President Schmidley can't declare martial law and expect everyone to comply. He can say what he likes, but he's not my boss."

"He's our boss," a few officers said, shifting back and forth on their heels.

"Yeah, but you're not my boss either, and I'm not breaking any laws by being here."

"You are disobeying a lawful order," a tall bald cop yelled at me. Oh, if only he'd known how much I detest that very combination of words. Not since the military have I had someone scream something like that in my face. I didn't like it then and I especially didn't like it now. I knew right then and there that I had a responsibility to my own principles to defy this supposed order.

"I am a private citizen, in a public park, upon a university which I pay to go to. You can't just make up rules and tell me to obey them. This is bullying. Please, just go away."

"Get the LT over here to authorize an arrest." The bald one yelled.

"You don't have to do that," I said, noting the rapid beat of my heart.

The cop at eye-level said, "this is your last chance. Just walk away from all this."

I looked directly into his eyes and said, "that's all you have to do. Just walk away."

"You're under arrest," one said as they simultaneously grabbed both my arms and yanked me to my feet. A small audience had gathered at the end of the sidewalk and were shouting something, but as I turned to see who they were, the cops bent my arms and forced me to my knees. "You're resisting" one of them said, and I felt my arms tense to prevent one from snapping my arm, while his rock-hard thumb dug painfully deep into my arm. "I'm not resisting, I'm on the ground," I said. A dozen witnesses took pictures from the sidewalk and some shouted "what's your name, what's your name?" But with someone's fingers clamped on my neck I didn't feel like responding. The officers handcuffed me and only then did they remove the book, 'Wisdom of the Heart' from my tense hands, and throw it to the ground. As the officers picked me up and led me away, I reminded them to please make sure they brought my book with us.

I remained polite with my arresting officers, Gonzo and Aldo, as they drove me to the campus police station. "What am I being arrested for?"

"You are being charged with criminal trespassing," said Gonzo.

"That's funny. In order for it to be criminal trespassing, there has to be criminal intent. I was reading a book by myself when you came up on me."

"Tell it to the judge, we're just doing our jobs," replied Gonzo.

"Yeah, I understand that completely," I said, "and I want you to know I don't dislike you, but you didn't have to hurt me."

"You were resisting," said Aldo.

"You know I wasn't resisting. That was unnecessary force." My arm burned fiercely.

Neither said anything. I maneuvered myself behind Aldo, the one whom had dug his thumb into the soft bend of my arm. "You really didn't have to hurt me. You can't just hurt someone 'cause they don't do what you say. Please think about this later."

Aldo dismissively shook his head and turned to Gonzo, "I got that dang Jeopardy song stuck in my head all day long, y'know the one?"

"Yeah, you mean the double jeopardy one?" They went back and forth humming fragments of the song and I helped them fill in the final notes.

At the campus police station I was cuffed to a bench in a depressing florescent-lit closet. My bag was searched, some questions were asked, and I was left alone for a half hour. I kicked off my shoes and attempted to meditate, trying to keep my mind cool and fluid. The events so far were dizzying - I certainly didn't want to go to jail - I had engagements I was now certain to be late for. But as I began to fear the impending consequences I thought about Henry Miller 'Wisdom of the Heart' in which he laid out a key secret "force can be directed as well as feared." I could transform the fear of this moment by changing my attitude about what was happening. I could accept the consequences, as irrational or unjust as they seemed, and confront this nightmare with a smile. The two officers returned, papers were signed, my backpack was locked away, and I was loaded into the back of the cruiser for a ride downtown.

"Why didn't you just leave?" Gonzo asked me from the driver's seat.

"I don't like it when people impress their will upon me," I responded.

"Yeah, but you got to pick your battles," he countered.

"I've gotten better about that," I sighed, "I think I'm right, but I make mistakes."

"Sometimes you just gotta' walk away even if you're right, to stay out of trouble," said Gonzo.

"Huh-" I thought about this. The officers had been doing their job, not because they felt what they were doing was right, but because they would have been wrong in not doing fulfilling their function. To prevent a negative consequence, like the loss of their job, they had little choice but to enforce a negative order passed down to them and arrest an innocent student for failing to comply with a negative measure. Do you see how the great dysfunction in the world is fueled by allowing these negative energies to pass through us? "Maybe I wasn't right," I said to Gonzo and Aldo, "but I wasn't wrong. And you weren't right or wrong in what you did either, but hurting me was very wrong."

"You'll be fine, it's just a scratch."

"Do you know what lives in the heart of a dictator?" I asked as we sped down Lomas. They were silent. "Fear," I answered for them, "and in every heart that houses fear lives a little dictator. Whenever he speaks, disobey him."

(To be continued in part 2)...