When I started researching this letter, I intended to title it as my father suggested: A Tale of Two Cities. Unfortunately, the occurrences of police brutality have persisted far beyond the suggested “one of two” cities in the title. In recent days, it seems brutality is becoming the common response to occupancies in cities all over the world. Even within days of the tragic injury of an Iraq War Veteran in Oakland (CA), occupancies in cities including Denver, Austin, and Richmond were met with similar tactics of tear gas, rubber bullets, pepperballs, and the old fashioned baton beating. It would seem these local officials and police administrators were determined to barge into these occupancies in search of their very own martyrs for the movement. But this is only one side of the story. What of the other city in the famous title?

Perhaps the one police department not getting enough attention these days is the small and courageous force of Albany, New York. Contrasting the courage being asked of officers who must set aside whatever personal feelings they have about the Occupy movement’s objectives and swallow their fears of exercising brute force against unarmed civilians, the officers of Albany and their superiors did something far more difficult. They stood up to the powers that be and said, “No.”

Yes. That’s right. They said, “No.” Allow me to explain.

When New York Governor Andrew Cuomo and Albany Mayor Gerald Jennings called for Occupy Albany to be cleared by Albany’s finest, Police Chief Steve Korkoff wisely evaluated the situation and then refused to uphold his orders. His justification for this was that the group was peaceful; he feared disturbing the peace would result in violence; and he believed that mounting an offense against the occupancy would upset a positive relationship between the citizens of Albany and its police force. Moreover, action against the movement seemed irresponsible when weighing the logistics of the situation (violence, manpower, cost to the city, etc.) and the charges against the group (misdemeanor trespassing). What’s more is that the city police department’s refusal to comply with the orders given by the governor and mayor were supported by the state police force. A representative of the New York State Police even commented to the Albany Times Union newspaper that “police know policing, not the governor and not the mayor.”

The refusal to carry out orders for clearing the occupancy is, of course, unprecedented. I, for one, feel that Chief Korkoff should be commended for his ability to stand up for what he believed was both right and beneficial to his city. His valor not only protected the occupants and their rights, the citizens of Albany, and his officers, but it also had several other beneficial upshots. The first is that, since it was clear the city had no recourse otherwise, a meeting with the occupants was held to iron out agreements regarding their stay. This, in turn, opened the lines of peaceful and respectful communication between the two groups, fostering positive feelings on both sides. Additionally, it functions as an example for police forces and local governments in other cities as a possible course of action in dealing with the Occupy camps in their areas. Though many police forces are taking their lessons from the pages of the now infamous Oakland Police Department, they should be taking them from the quiet capital of Albany. Police have all too often been the mechanism of violence when they should in fact be the last defense against it. Above all of this, however, what I like best is the subtle reminder that the constitutional right of the people to assemble cannot and should not be trumped by state or local restrictions on the use of public space. Now, here’s an idea we can build upon.

A lawyer interviewed recently by Keith Olbermann pointed out that restrictions on the use of public spaces create a unique problem when discussing our right to peaceable assembly. These restrictions are not technically law as they are not passed by legislative branches of government, but rather written and enforced by executive rule. They are ordinances, and though you can be arrested for violating them, the arrests are essentially optional – something we know to be true because of the selective enforcement we have seen over the last several years. That aside, if the local law intends to uphold these ordinances, the question next becomes, “If not here then where?”

I’m certain that when our founding fathers (it freaks me out, by the way, when they are referred to as The Architects; that’s way too Orwell/Huxley for me) wrote our right to peaceable assembly into blessed existence there was plenty of open space and even a fervor about the very idea that created tolerance to things like trampled bushes (my apologies to the Rose Kennedy Conservancy). Today, however, our culture and population have created a very different landscape for political assembly, literally. Every tiny space is ruled over by some group, public or private. Our cities have become hulking establishments of metal and concrete with narrow streets and narrower sidewalks. Our city parks and plazas are home to the homeless and lunch break vacation spots to the metropolitans. Places once sacred because of the great liberties conceived and signed there are now merely temporary parking for coffee sucking suits and photo-ops for passing tourist groups, people living out some momentary appreciation for freedoms they don’t work to maintain or see vanishing from their lives.

At some point, cities need to be reminded that their municipal ordinances do not trump your constitutional rights. And at many points, we all need to be reminded what these spaces – in each city selected for profundity of location and visibility to the offices on high – were really intended for. They were given to us for this very purpose: for us to come together and enjoy our American freedoms.

In Nashville, recent developments have the state and local officials on the ropes as Occupy Nashville was awarded a restraining order against Tennessee Governor Bill Haslam and other city officials, and a lawsuit is being assembled regarding the attempted infringement on the occupants’ first amendment rights. The case will be huge for the visibility and morale of the movement, but even Nashville’s progress came at the barrel of gun – or, in this case, the butt of a nightstick.

If only the story of Albany was as loud in the ears and as clear in the eyes of Americans as the nightly reports of mayhem and brutality. If only an honorable police chief making comments from a press conference was as visually stimulating (and hence newsworthy by our media standards) as grey clouds of chemical weapons being dispersed on scattering civilians wearing bandanas over their faces. If only military contractors pushed valor and humility as hard as they pushed nonlethal weapons when gearing up our nation’s police forces.

Though the reality for most occupancies is less than what it should be, and what we know now it could be, it only makes the movements commitment to remain peaceful even more important, especially when under attack. This is one final and beautiful lesson we learn from Albany. In peace, more things are possible. Stay peaceful, campers… And thank you, Albany.