By David Laprad
Cars stack at the light. Pedestrians move between shops. At the intersection of Frazier Avenue and North Market Street, Paula Muina stands in the middle of it all, holding a sign with a simple message:
“I ♥ U fellow American.”
It’s direct, uncomplicated and easy to read in the few seconds before the light changes.
And that’s the point.
A daily act of conviction
Muina has lived in the Chattanooga area since 1992. Over the years, she and her family have remodeled or restored four homes. Their latest project – a 126-year-old house they’re restoring into an Airbnb – is still waiting.
“That’s what I should be doing,” she says. “But I’ve put everything on hold to protest because I feel this is more important at this moment.”
“Protest” is the word Muina uses, though what she’s doing looks different from what most people expect. There’s no crowd, chants or megaphones, just one person and a collection of signs.
Muina didn’t start at Frazier and Market. Last summer, she spent time across from Miller Plaza, where limited parking and distant restrooms made protesting difficult to sustain. While driving one day, she came across the Northshore intersection.
“It immediately felt right,” she says. “It’s been perfect ever since.”
The location offers a few key advantages: strong visibility, a consistent flow of people and, she notes, a sense of safety. There are cameras at the intersection and always others nearby. And over time, the corner has become familiar ground.
She moved there last fall, stepped away for more than a month during the holidays and the coldest part of winter, and now she’s back – at the same spot each day, weather permitting, with Sundays off.
“I plan to continue for as long as it’s safe,” she says, “or until we, the people, become more unified.”
Messages of love and unity
Her message is not limited to the sign she holds. Along the nearby transformer box, she’s arranged others, each one carrying a variation on the same theme:
“Love thy neighbor – no exceptions.”
“We’re not so different.”
“Hate never made any nation great.”
“Divided we fall.”
“Make racism wrong again.”
“Protect our Constitution.”
They’re short enough to read at a stoplight and clear enough to register without explanation.
She says they’re all important, but one stands out.
“If we truly lived by that,” she says of “Love thy neighbor – no exceptions,” “many of our problems would disappear.”
Muina describes herself as a Christian, and that belief informs the way she thinks about the messages she shares. They’re not something to declare but something to live out.
“I’m deeply concerned about how many people wear their Christianity like a badge while behaving in ways that are anything but Christ-like,” she says.
Still, Muina is careful not to frame what she’s doing in narrow terms. When asked whether her presence is meant to be political, her answer is measured.
“Both yes and no,” she says. “But more than anything, I hope people see me as a human being who cares deeply about their country and their fellow Americans.”
What she returns to, again and again, is the idea of connection.
“I love my fellow Americans,” she says. “This is simply my way of expressing that.”
That message resonates in small, passing ways. Drivers honk and wave, and some roll down their windows to say thank you, while pedestrians slow down long enough to read each sign before continuing on.
“The response has been overwhelmingly positive,” she says. “I’m incredibly grateful for that.”
Muina acknowledges that not every interaction is kind, but she doesn’t dwell on that. When asked about people yelling or mocking her, she keeps the focus where she wants it: on those who respond with encouragement and on the message itself.
Small moments stay with her, including a young woman who gave her the Statue of Liberty crown she now wears. It was handmade for a Halloween costume and later passed along as a gesture of support. That simple act of kindness quickly became part of her daily presence.
“She was incredibly kind and supportive,” Muina says.
The crown catches the eye before the words do, a familiar symbol of welcome, freedom and hope reimagined at a busy Chattanooga intersection. It adds something visual and memorable – but it’s still the message people read.
“I ♥ U fellow American.”
“It means exactly what it says,” she explains.
A calling rooted in hope
For Muina, the motivation behind that message is rooted in something deeper than a single moment or issue. She describes feeling worn down by what she sees as constant division and by the way people are encouraged to turn against one another.
“We should love one another,” she says. “It breaks my heart to see our country and our people in the condition they’re in today.”
Standing on that corner is not a solution, but it is her response. There’s a routine to it now. She arrives, sets out her signs, takes her place near the curb and waits through the cycles of the traffic lights.
When traffic builds, she lifts the sign a little higher, and when it clears, she rests. Then it begins again, over and over, for hours at a time.
Her family supports her, even as they worry, she says. She speaks warmly about her husband of more than 30 years, calling him her “rock,” and credits him and her parents with standing behind her decision to be there.
“They understand that this is something I feel called to do,” she says.
What Muina hopes for isn’t complicated.
She talks about people stepping back from the constant pull of anger and fear. About being more thoughtful with what they consume and share. About treating one another with more civility, patience and care.
“I wish we’d invest in each other,” she says.
For now, her investment is measured in hours spent at an intersection, days added together over weeks and months, where the light turns red, cars stop, and for a few seconds, people look up and read the sign.
“I ♥ U fellow American.”
Then the light changes, and they move on.