Remembering Joshua Gannon-Salomon
In March of 2017, I found myself (somewhat reluctantly and skeptically) standing on the south lawn of the RI State House participating in antifascist organizing for the 3rd time in my life. The first was in high school, the 2nd was in college. This 3rd time, I was 34, married and working a corporate job. I had met a few people who seemed cool and wanted to see for myself how bad Trumpism was going to be. I also wanted to see what the left looked like after being away from activism for a decade. As the crowd sectioned off into the two now all too familiar camps for that first time, I spotted a scruffy young man in hippy clothes with a mandolin making his way through the pro-Trump crowd up onto the steps of the statehouse. He greeted the MAGA-folk politely yet when they recited the pledge of allegiance, he just stood there smiling. He then walked over to the rally leaders and asked if he could perform "a quick patriotic song." They obliged him and he approached the mic. "