by Frances and Betty Boylston
Image: Protest in Fayetteville, Georgia, November 29, 2025. photo: Betty Boylston
It is rare that one gets a firsthand view of a newly emergent opposition movement. This one is particularly interesting and unique as it is arising in opposition to the undermining of a long and established democracy – the United States. With corporations and many in the media having abdicated responsibility for reining in Donald Trump’s destructive policies, thousands of citizens are stepping forward through grassroots networks.
While the United States was hardly perfect and popular representation has been a long undertaking (as shown dramatically in Ken Burns’s documentaries), it has had a representative system of government since its inception as a country in 1787. Over time, it has risen above slavery, Jim Crow, McCarthyism and unpopular wars. It is now again facing a challenge – a challenge to civil rights and the institutions of democracy and federalism, a challenge tinged with monarchical ambitions.
The history of such resistance is not unique to anti-Trump protests, and the participants are inspired by the achievement of other movements of resistance to authoritarian regimes. But unlike the current situation in the United States, for the anti-authoritarian movements of the 20th century, it was economic noncooperation as well as protest that paved the way to democratic breakthroughs. In South Africa, it was boycotts, general strikes and international support. In Communist Poland it was trade unionists’ mobilization by the Solidarity movement. In India, Gandhi’s nonviolent resistance campaign ultimately brought an end to British colonialism. In occupied Denmark in the 1940s, noncooperation was the rule. No one remembered how to run the railroad. Factory workers slowed down or stopped production altogether. Danes gave false identity papers and secured their passage through fishing boats to neutral Sweden.
The United States has had many protests in the past, but in most cases they were focused on a single issue – an end to the war, more money for pensioners, women’s rights, saving the environment. What is happening now is different: protests have a broader scope, though they are often theme-centred. Protest activities take place at the local level, but are coordinated regionally and even nationally around a common purpose. Different groups choose different forms of action: in some cases it is writing letters, in some cases approaching organizations and merchants that support antidemocratic policies, in some cases electing officials, in some cases turning out for street demonstrations.
Local No Kings marches and Tesla boycotts are given national focus and coordination via the Indivisible Project, a nonprofit social movement driven by “a vision of a real democracy – of, by, and for the people.” Support by this organization provides more than publicity; it is a source for groups to exchange information and tools to educate themselves and the larger public. The Indivisible Project originated in 2016 as an internet viral guide to resisting Trump’s agenda. Today it comprises a network of millions of activists across every state in thousands of local groups with anywhere from five to hundreds of members. Since Trump’s return to the presidency, it has played a key role in coordinating marches such as the “Hands Off” march in April and the October 18 “No Kings, No Crowns” day (in Canada, the protest by American-Canadians was entitled “No Tyrants, No Clowns”).
The Indivisible Project seeks to unite Americans opposing Trump and is nonpartisan, even though its goals are clearly in line with those of the Democratic Party. While it lobbies Congress and supports progressive policies, its main goal is equipping activists with tools to defeat the right-wing takeover of American government and build an inclusive democracy.
We are sisters whose ancestors fought in the American Revolution. The question we asked was: How does a country with nearly 250 years of representative government respond to an attempt to dismantle the protections of its democracy? For generations, Americans took democracy and the U.S. system of government to be synonyms. In the 1960s, as a Peace Corps volunteer, Frances went to Southeast Asia as a “democracy missionary.” Betty spent many years as a Girl Scout executive inculcating democratic values, working to integrate the organization’s councils. Emerging from the shock of finding an elected government dismantling the protections and values that had long underpinned our country, we shared the growing awareness that citizens could not depend on congressional representatives to check presidential power. We had to “save ourselves.”
We saw various media outlets and cultural institutions (forced to) bend to Trump’s demands. Journalists were told to “get on board” with the administration or lose their jobs. Major broadcasters were reluctant to cover the protests, including the more than five million protesting on No Kings day. In response, people are turning away from these established institutions to independent broadcasters and leaders who livestream the growing opposition on Substack outlets such as The Contrarian and other new media. Such independent media are providing tools for the citizens’ pushback.
Below is Betty’s story of a group of “ordinary citizens” in the deep red territory of southeast Georgia who have come together to protest Trump’s policies. She describes the diverse activities of the movement and her experiences in lobbying, educating and being part of street protests. Betty has always been involved in her community – fighting to integrate councils as a Girl Scout executive, and later providing services and equipment to Medicare clients as a medical supply entrepreneur. But it was only this current onslaught on American values that prompted her to take a more public political stance in the movement opposing Trumpism.
With others she stands on corners and in town squares with home-made placards. The messages target specific offensive policies and point out the dismantling of democratic values. This is not simply “political theatre.” In addition to demonstrating to fellow townspeople the opposition to Trump, they aim to give support to those who cannot afford to participate for fear of retribution. Like Betty, her fellow activists have led lives within their community; many of them find themselves surprised to be called “activists.” For the first time in their lives they are waving signs, or attending meetings, or wearing tee-shirts with slogans such as “Gulf of Mexico” or “Democracy Hawk” or “ No Crowns! No Clowns!” Seeing their neighbours threatened by Trump’s policies has prompted them to take action.
Over the last months since Trump’s election we have struggled not to fall into a malaise of helplessness as we have seen individuals’ lives destroyed, listened on the news to a president insulting others in crude terms, felt Ukraine’s despair as Trump toys with its survival, and seen racist and sexist attitudes encouraged by our government. Through the Indivisible Project and contact with others, Betty has found the antidote to the anger and destruction spread by Trump and his cult followers. Writing postcards to officials may not be the giant wave that changes things. Waving placards on the corner may not reverse a hateful policy. Continuing to demand that our congressional representatives meet with constituents may not result in their actually doing so. Wearing tee-shirts with resistance slogans my be dismissed as a fashion ploy. However, participating in those activities with fellow citizens does give hope. We take comfort and optimism by reflecting on the lessons we learned as children – a stone can be worn away by the constant drip drip of water. We hope to be one of those drops in a cascade of drops.
A movement of everybody’s neighbours
by Betty Boylston

Image: Author Betty Boylston models resistance “fashion”
My concern grew after the election: Mexican-American neighbours being hassled, Ukraine rejected, environmental protections dismantled, diversity and inclusiveness thrown out, the economy increasingly unstable and the crude, insulting rhetoric from the White House. I could not simply stay home and rant as I read the newspapers. In March 2025, a dozen folks came together to map out a plan to organize citizens in a nine-county area composing a crescent on the south side of metro Atlanta. Under the umbrella of the Indivisible Project, Georgia Southern Crescent Indivisible Project was formed. By August, just six months later, those 12 had become 314, primarily from Fayette County. There are some 1,150 names on email list, a remarkable number since people rightly fear that being on a list which the administration might access could result in retribution.
In September an adjacent rural county, bright red Coweta County, formed its own chapter of Indivisible. There have been protests nearly every week – sometimes more that one. They have taken place at a Tesla dealership and in Fayetteville, Newnan, Zebulon, Monroe, Barnesville, Lovejoy, Griffin and Peachtree City. The largest attendance was 1,600 participants on No Kings Day in Fayetteville; the typical number at a protest is about 50, with some being as small as 12. At all of them we have people thanking us for being out, saying that they wished that they could join us but job and family prevented it. Even those who do demonstrate are careful about being photographed.
At the first several protests in Fayetteville (population circa 20,000) we were trolled by MAGA loyalists: men, often wearing MAGA hats, circling the town square many times so they could shout their angry obscenities. MAGA groups swing gigantic American flags and seek to appropriate the U.S. flag as their own icon. We protesters have decided to “take back the flag” by putting it on our own signs or carrying it up and down the square, something the MAGAs do not appreciate at all. For us it is important not to cede the flag to that group.
Though there has not been any physical confrontation, there have been attempts to intimidate the protesters (all protests follow local rules and laws). Sometimes the MAGA loyalists threaten the protesters by driving really close – within a foot or two. Several in particular would stop their vehicles, shouting their obscenities through the open window. One even showed up with a blowup figure of Trump in the bed of his American flag–festooned truck and circled, trying to antagonize us, as he drove to within inches. This was a group of largely women and pensioners who looked more like Sunday School teachers than ranting rebels. Some of these truckers “diesel” us – blow black diesel smoke at us. Only rarely do we have anyone in our group shout back. If they do, we usually approach them quickly, with our schoolteacher voices, and explain that we do not duplicate MAGA tactics.
The most effective countermeasure to the MAGA vitriol, I have discovered, is just to stand in place, look straight in their eyes, smile and say nothing. Then, without saying a word, two or three fellow protesters join and do the same, staring MAGA down. That leaves them red in the face, pumping their fists, shouting.
One young MAGA man was so enraged at us that he gunned his car and ran into a parked car! It was our fault, he told the police as they ticketed him, because we “distracted” him. In fact, we have not encountered any law enforcement problems. The first time we protest at a site the police cruise us repeatedly, but when they see that we are on public property protesting peacefully, they leave. At a protest near the immigrant detention centre, a police car parked for a long time watching us but finally left.
We were joined by a Hispanic woman and her children who saw us as she was passing by, and upon learning what we were doing pitched right in. Her children selected some of our premade signs, carefully reading them. I heard one of the kids say, “I want this one – it says human rights are sacred.” Because they are a vulnerable population, they held their signs to obscure their faces, but they stayed for the full 90-minute protest. Others who have jobs that might be endangered by their participation also tend to hold their signs high enough to obscure their identity.
We are a diverse group, but one with fewer men, minorities and younger people. Many of us are retired – no jobs to lose. In our working lives we held positions like classroom teachers, Army officers, nurses, airline employees, Episcopal priests, school principals, hairdressers, court clerks, CDC technicians, truck drivers, photographers, librarians. We are everybody’s neighbours.
Over the course of these six or seven months we have seen an increase in public support for our cause, as evidenced by the preponderance of “honks” and thumbs-up signs. But the real success will be seen when “honks” turn into “votes” at the local, state and national levels. And that is one of the reasons we have several kinds of resistance activities.
Protesting through the mailbox

Street protests and attending council and other political meetings are regular activities. They produce awareness in the larger community and give us a chance to interact with citizens and urge them to vote. In the November elections, we were able to affect the outcome of the election for the influential Power Commission, for the first time getting two Democrats on board. This is seen as evidence that public demonstrations contribute to public education and stimulate action to vote.
Besides street protesting, our group is diligently pursuing postcard campaigns, letter writing, emailing and phone calls. One member is quite the researcher in tracking down where the money is coming from and where it is going, so we are able to target corporations, elected officials and high-dollar donors who are involved in detention centre contracts (for example providing tents and chain fencing), ICE raids, elimination of DEI programs, silencing journalists’ voices and other aspects of this insanity.
The postcard campaign is in many ways the most fun and rewarding for participants. Members get together to send hand-drawn postcards to officials who are directly involved with Trump decisions, such as those in the small towns that are being coerced by the Trump administration to put up detention camps for so-called undocumented individuals. Much research has gone into making sure the cards meet post office regulations.
This is what it looks like: in our last meeting eight folks (all were women at this meeting) sitting around the table discussing our talking points with pens, coloured pencils, lots of sample artwork to choose from and blank cards in front of us. By the end of the hour, we had channelled our ideas into satirical art drawn on the fronts of cards, with poignant messages handwritten on the back.
Postcard Gatherings are really all about:
- Examining a political outrage
- Figuring out who is responsible for it and/or who might be in a position to change it
- Boiling down your thoughts into a few short attention-grabbing words on a postcard
- Most importantly, a couple of hours spent with like-minded people, taking action against political tyranny: not just wringing your hands feeling hopeless.
Postcards are particularly effective because since they don’t have to be opened by the receiver: the message has the potential to be seen multiple times as it makes its journey from writer to receiver. A card to the mayor is seen by the clerk, the mail carrier and the secretary as well as the mayor. Furthermore, handwritten correspondence, combined with hand-drawn artwork, is known to grab attention. It tells the reader that there is a real person behind the message who has a genuine interest in the message – and conveys to the elected official that there is a real concerned voter.