As I marched through Bay Street alongside hundreds of fellow communists, someone approached me from the sidewalk and asked if we had any spare flags. She eagerly took mine up to wave, but didn’t skip a beat in asking me further questions.
“How often do you guys do this?”
“Marches like this are not common, but we have meetings every week, likely near you.”
“When next week? How can I get in touch with you?”
I had left my phone behind, but she had a pen and a mission in mind: to join these class fighters. Despite it still being pinned to my shirt, she turned my credential card from the Congress around and wrote her phone number on it. Sadly, in the rush, some of the digits were undecipherable. But she knows we’re the RCP, and we’re here to take down the Epstein class. If this was you, apply to join! And if it wasn’t, if you’re still on the verge, maybe next time a spare flag will be all it takes.
