Heat emanates off the road near the corner of Monroe and Rama roads. There’s a gas station nearby, and rush-hour traffic backs up at the light.
On the corner, about a dozen people wave to cars and hold signs. One says, “Freedom is racial equality.” Another says, “Honk for some good trouble.”
Look closely, and you’ll see “Indivisible Charlotte” written on hats, buttons and signs. The group calls these pop-up protests and is part of a nationwide network that formed in the wake of President Trump’s first term.
“I started with one a week, went to two. Now I do four to five pop-ups a week all around the city,” says Lavon Bauer, who is in her 80s and wears a leg brace and a bucket hat covered with political buttons.
It is June 29, and the heat index is about 100 degrees. The heat is enough to melt most people into the pavement, but Bauer is just getting warmed up.
“I’m very hot, but I’ve got a fan around my neck,” Bauer says. “The wind’s blowing and all the honks inspire you.”
She’s holding a sign about voting. It reads, “Vote midterms to protect democracy.”
“I want people to know we’re out here for them,” Bauer says. “And I want them to remember to vote.”
Just steps away, a white-haired woman with round glasses wearing a yellow vest stands at the edge of the protest. Her name is Sue DuChanois, one of the organizers at this corner and the statewide liaison for Indivisible Charlotte.
Bauer’s message is about the future, while DuChanois’ concerns are rooted in the past.
“I’m 76 years old in two weeks, and I’ve already been through Jim Crow 1,” DuChanois says. “I fear I’m going to have to live for a while through Jim Crow 2, and I don’t like that at all.”
The sign she’s holding reads, “USA begins with us.”
Though she was raised Republican, she says she no longer recognizes the party today. That may explain what was on the side of her sign facing away from traffic: the Statue of Liberty punching a cartoon President Trump.
But she says those concerns are her own. Indivisible Charlotte’s mission is broader: strengthening democracy through direct action, education and community engagement. For DuChanois, the pop-ups are about more than any one sign. They’re about visibility.
“I just think it was a matter of somebody saying, we need to feel more visible,” DuChanois says. “People feel isolated, and this is really grassroots democracy in terms of being out here. You heard all the horns.”
She says that desire for visibility helped Indivisible Charlotte’s pop-ups spread across Charlotte in early 2025. The effort soon grew into daily protests at 25 locations across the city.
The Monroe and Rama protest was on a Monday. By Tuesday, another pop-up was underway at an intersection in University City.
Like the gathering the day before, about a dozen people stand along the roadside during rush hour. Most are wearing hats. One person waves a large American flag, and others hold smaller flags and red-and-white signs built around the same phrase: “Freedom is.”
Nearby, there's a cooler stocked with bottles of water and Diet Coke. Karen Garland takes a sip, then returns to the line of protesters facing traffic. She is the organizer of this corner.
“We know a lot of people can’t take the time to come and stand here,” Garland says. “I’m retired. Most of us are retired, and most people have jobs, so they can’t stand out here.”
She says the group is trying to represent people who cannot show up themselves.
“People do come by and say, ‘I can’t be here, but I’m glad you’re standing up for us,’” Garland says.
As if on cue, a passerby interrupts Garland mid-sentence.
“I would definitely be back. I definitely will support this, and everybody should support this,” the passerby says.
Garland thanks her and asks her to come back soon.
As rush-hour traffic begins to thin, it is time to pack up. The signs go down.
Before leaving, the protesters gather for a group picture, pile into their cars and head back home.
But they say they’ll be back next week. And somewhere else in the city, another pop-up is scheduled for tomorrow.
