Tori Truscheit

It's the stuff of nerdy programmers' dreams: make enough money in Silicon Valley, and the invites to secret sex parties will roll in. The soirees are the 21st-century version of dotcom-era trips to Vegas, where you might see a polyamorous venture capitalist dressed like a bunny before he splits off to have druggy sex with a few women at once. The ratio of women to men is 2-to-1, the opposite of a typical tech sausagefest, and the molly takes many forms: mixed into a coconut, pressed into a Snapchat logo-shaped tablet, passed around in big plastic bags.

In the fall of 2017, a curious library patron walked into the California Room on the fifth floor of the Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Library with a simple question: Did the library have any information on the history of lowrider culture in San Jose?

Benny O'hara flips through a stack of drawings on tracing paper and produces a recent piece: a protest sign on a wooden stake, surrounded by lilies. The time for peace, it seems, has come to an end.

Across the country, rumblings of a resistance movement began as the final votes were being tallied. The Women's March is considered by many to be the largest one-day nationwide demonstration in American history, with 3.7 million people rallying across the country and more than 25,000 people packing the streets of downtown San Jose. When Trump rolled out a constitutionally challenged immigration ban Jan. 27, thousands of protesters and lawyers flocked to airports across the country to block traffic for departures and arrivals.