Donald Trump was elected President during my first semester of college. My dorm was on Fifth Avenue, and as I walked home after having spent hours glued to cable news in a crowded bar and hours more wandering the East Village hoping vaguely for a recount, I turned onto my street and was faced with Trump’s smiling mug on the side of the Empire State Building. I didn’t even know they could put faces up there, and it made me want to vomit.
