The Jacob K Javits convention centre in Manhattan, overlooking the Hudson river, is named after a senator who left the Democrats to become a Republican. That should perhaps have been an omen: but instead it became the gathering place in New York City for those Hillary Clinton supporters and campaign workers who were hoping to see the building’s famous glass ceiling metaphorically shattered by the country’s first female president.

The queues went round not one but four blocks as New Yorkers, some politicians and lots of minor celebrities gathered there, buoyed by the New York Times’s predication that there was an 82% likelihood their candidate would win. We spoke to three who were there.

Hedy Sloane Stempler

Hedy Sloane Stempler.

Former casting assistant

“I went along to the Javits centre at the last minute. I have multiple sclerosis and use a cane, and I knew I’d get in: they didn’t even ask those with a disability for a ticket.

“Things started getting scary when more results started coming in. With Trump gaining in the electoral college, my head started pounding with an excruciating headache. I still have it. I’m afraid it may be with me throughout the Trump presidency. I also have a cigarette under extreme stress; I really needed one at the Javits centre. It was so quiet.

“I was with total strangers when I arrived. They weren’t strangers when I left. There was no better place to be when such an unexpected tragedy struck, which will be more than ‘Ten Days That Shook the World’.

“Trump also winning on the days that Kristallnacht happened epitomises history repeating itself. Has fascism come to America? I walked home at around 3am and the streets were just full of people, all saying the ‘end of the world has come’. It was so surreal.”

Ellen Frances and Oona. Photograph: Ali Smith/The Observer

Ellen Frances (with daughter Oona)

Film producer

“I took my daughter because I felt so sure Hillary would win. My confidence wasn’t coming from a pompous place, but one of common sense. Here was someone with so much experience in politics and law, someone who embraced every race and religion, up against a man who was so insulting and negative. Taking my daughter to vote was one of the proudest moments I’ve felt as a woman.

“As the night went on, though, and states were turning red, I kept thinking to myself ‘this can’t be real’. As it was getting later Oona fell asleep on my lap with a flag in her hand: she woke up to ask if Hillary was coming to speak. So many people were crying. I told her I wasn’t sure Hillary would be speaking.

“As we walked home through Midtown my daughter asked what was going on. We passed strangers on the street who had stopped on the corners to ask each other the same thing in utter shock. We saw two men crying. As we entered our apartment the doorman said: ‘Everyone coming in is so sad. She is still going to win, though, right?”, and I said “I don’t think so”. I put Oona into her pyjamas. I explained to her that in the morning she will hear that Trump won.

“The next morning she wandered into my room and got in bed with me. She said: ‘When the cat came in to my room this morning I told her I’m so sorry. She’s going to have a bad life. I’m going to have a bad life too. The boys on the playground said they wanted Trump to win because he thinks girls are stupid and he hates girls and now he won.’

We walked to school and I dropped her off. The city was under a grey sky and rain started to fall. It felt very fitting. On every corner I crossed people who were shaking their heads, welling up with tears, asking each other: ‘how could this happen?’

The one good thing I feel is the energy in New York. I’ve never felt so proud to be a New Yorker. I feel so lucky to be surrounded by a city of people supporting each other’s differences, giving hugs, talking on corners, in the subway and cafes, expressing their right to protest. It’s true unity.”

Carmen Rita Wong and daughter Bianca Luz. Photograph: Ali Smith/The Observer

Carmen Rita Wong (with daughter Bianca Luz)

Author and personal finance expert

“We went there with tremendous excitement, admittedly some anxiety on my end. I’d helped raise money for the campaign and am on the national board of Planned Parenthood. I’m the daughter of immigrants and our family is many races and ethnicities; my daughter and I are Latina. Personally, she’s been very afraid that Trump would deport me, her mother, as he’d targeted Latinos, or that her African-American cousins would be subject to abuse and harassment.

“When Hillary lost the first big state, she burst into tears. And the tears came with every additional announcement. The feelings in this photo were brief. She cried heaves when we got home around 2am.

“What I told her once I realised it was done was this: we have to keep fighting for our rights and what we believe – half of the country voted with us. My mother, your abuela, escaped a tyrant and fought for her rights as a brown American and a feminist. We have to continue her legacy.”

Meha Verghese



Meha

Works in marketing

“As polls predicted with growing certainty that Hillary Clinton would be the next president, my friends and I excitedly made plans to head to the Javits centre and witness history. At dinner, we all faced the television as the results came in, trying to calculate Hillary’s narrowing odds.

“When we got to the Javits, the mood was sombre. People were sitting silently watching the TV monitors. I was struck by the mix of age, race, gender, sexuality and ability. We were there because we believed in a vision of America in which we all belonged and in which America belonged to all of us. So the election felt very personal, and as a Trump victory appeared inevitable, people broke down into tears.

“As an immigrant and a woman of colour, I felt confused and hurt. I’ve lived in the US my entire adult life, resulting in incredible opportunities, meaningful friendships, and countless positive interactions across the country. Yet as I saw how many people voted for Trump, it made me question how I had been viewed all along, and it made me afraid for how I will be viewed now.

“The next day, I felt numb, weary and sad. I avoided the news but did watch Hillary’s concession speech. The grace and courage with which she spoke and her message lifted my spirits. I was particularly moved when she addressed young women like myself. Sure, Clinton is a flawed human being just like the rest of us, but she is a fighter who cares deeply, who shows up prepared, who does the work, and who never quits. She has shown confident, ambitious women just how great a difference they can make in the world and I’m grateful.

“I’m still trying to fully understand this election and its implications. I’m sad and scared for my friends and others who have already faced hate-harassment this week. I’m inspired by the women and men of Pantsuit Nation and all those who are determined to keep supporting each other and fighting for their beliefs.”

Fatima Hozien at the Javits centre. Photograph: Ali Smith/The Observer

Fatima Hozien

“I was honestly so excited to be there on Tuesday. I left my work and took a bus to the city. The whole trip I was thinking of the bright future and wondering which of the local and state measures would be voted in by the next day.

“As a covered Muslim woman, I always worry when walking alone on the dark New York streets because I have been harassed and hassled before, but when I got close to Javits the police presence was a bit of a comfort and also made me nervous. Getting through security was, as always, nerve-racking as they did the usual hijab pat-down and made me stand in front of everyone to watch. I saw only one other obviously Muslim person inside, I expected more.

“I made my way as close as I could get to the podium and took in the atmosphere. I got to meet some lovely people, full of hope and promise. We talked about the measures promoting women’s rights, and infrastructure and healthcare, we might get to see passed.

“This is the first election that made me feel, as a Muslim, my party took us into account. Yet still, Hillary and Trump both spoke about Muslim Americans as if we were on the front lines of domestic terrorism. All domestic terrorists of the last decade were ignorant people clinging to incorrect assumptions about the world.

“In my liberal, inclusive mosque we fought to get after-school programmes for the youth, and I worked for years to dispel the myths people like Isis and other groups try to trick people into believing. I have never met anyone that could be thought of as a ‘person of interest’, anyone I could report on. My community was just tired of being dismissed as un-American because they held to their religious beliefs.

“It doesn’t get more American than the Muslim kids I grew up with. We eat the food, have the culture, but we keep to our faith.

“I began to get that horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach when Trump started to climb in the electoral college. I was stunned as more and more states swung his way. The tears came. I started to make my way out at 11pm because I began to worry about getting back to New Jersey. I took an Uber home, but the Turkish driver was a Trump supporter and I just wanted to cry more. Did other people in my community feel the same as him?

“I knew that checks and balances could probably prevent most of what Trump claimed he wanted to do, but now I can’t help but look in fear and suspicion at my fellow Americans and wonder.

“I’m going to get married in January to a man I now fear might not be able to stay in my country. I fear for my family and friends who are visibly different by skin tone, or how they dress. I’m proud of my family’s Palestine roots and culture, but now worry how my children will feel.

“I worry Trump’s ‘knocking the hell out of Isis’ means more innocent people will die in ‘targeted attacks designed to prevent civilian casualties’.

“My faith keeps me strong in this time: I know that Allah does not burden a soul with more than it can bear, and that what is happening is part of his plan. Yet the next four years will be the most uncertain of times.”