a&e features

Corbett Joan O’Toole still fighting for self-determination, respect for disabled people

Author and activist on coming out, intersectionality, and a lifetime of advocacy

Published

3 years ago

April 7, 2023

Corbett Joan O’Toole is the author of the acclaimed ‘Fading Scars.’ (Book cover image via Amazon)

(Editor’s Note: One in four people in America has a disability, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Queer and disabled people have long been a vital part of the LGBTQ community. Take two of the many queer history icons who were disabled: Michelangelo is believed to have been autistic. Marsha P. Johnson, who played a heroic role in the Stonewall Uprising, had physical and psychiatric disabilities. Today, Deaf-Blind fantasy writer Elsa Sjunneson, actor and bilateral amputee Eric Graise and Kathy Martinez, a blind, Latinx lesbian who was Assistant Secretary of Labor for Disability Employment Policy for the Obama administration, are only a few of the numerous queer and disabled people in the LGBTQ community. Yet, the stories of this vital segment of the queer community have rarely been told. In its series “Queer, Crip and Here,” the Blade will tell some of these long unheard stories.)

Corbett Joan O’Toole, 71, a queer, disabled elder and a Ford Foundation 2022 Disability Futures Fellow, knew one thing for sure growing up in Boston: She didn’t want to be a nurse.

O’Toole has had a physical disability since she was 12 months old. “I sometimes joke that my becoming disabled was my birthday present when I turned one year old,” she said in a phone interview with the Blade.

O’Toole has used a wheelchair since she was 30. Before that, she walked with crutches and leg braces.

As a child, she’d had surgery, O’Toole said. “I saw what nurses did,” she added. “Men told them what to do. I knew nursing wasn’t for me.”

Even as a child, O’Toole could tell that male employers had the same attitude toward secretaries. “Sitting in an office all day didn’t seem like fun,” she said, “The only other thing a white woman in my generation could be when they grew up was to be a teacher.”

“I decided to be a teacher,” O’Toole added, “where I’d have my own classroom and no man would be telling me what to do.”

When she was young, O’Toole led, by her account, a sheltered life. She didn’t know then that she was queer. “I didn’t know if I met any queer people,” O’Toole said, “but I always knew that I liked strong women. I thought they were interesting.”

And, O’Toole, like many kids and teens with disabilities then (and, even often, now) knew that little was expected of disabled people. That disabled lives weren’t highly valued. “I was in school all the time with nondisabled kids,” O’Toole said.

Nearly everything was inaccessible then from libraries to courthouses to movie theaters. The Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990 (ADA) wouldn’t be passed until decades later. “You were expected to adapt even if things were inaccessible,” O’Toole said.

If you couldn’t make it in an inaccessible world, the attitude was “you don’t have to be here,” O’Toole said.

O’Toole didn’t meet other disabled people except during the summer, when she’d spend a month at a camp for disabled kids. The director and staff were nondisabled, O’Toole said. But at camp, she got to hang out with 90 other disabled kids. O’Toole got to interact with people like herself – disabled kids living vibrant lives. “We explored nature,” she said, “we collected blueberries. Made pancakes.”

There, O’Toole developed her life-long love of sports. As an adult, she has played competitive wheelchair basketball and power soccer. At her childhood summer camp, “We did archery,” O’Toole said, “and played baseball.”

At a time when sexism was the norm, O’Toole got to do things that girls usually couldn’t do at camp. “We went fishing,” she said, “We used power tools in a woodshop,” she said, “It was empowering!”

At camp, if the kids wanted to do something, they’d figure out a way to make it accessible – to make it work, O’Toole added.

O’Toole, author of “Fading Scars: My Queer Disability History,” a groundbreaking book that was a Lambda Literary Award finalist, graduated in 1973 from Fitchburg State University with a bachelor’s degree in education and her teaching credentials. The summer after graduation, she moved with a friend to Berkeley, Calif.

O’Toole was eager to go to California. It would get her out of the cold of New England, where getting around in ice and snow if you’re using crutches or a wheelchair is difficult. “It sounded like fun,” she said. “I’d be in a part of the country where it’s a Mediterranean climate – it’s spring or summer. No snow.”

The move to California was transformative for O’Toole.

There, people thought about disability accessibility. She met queer people and disabled people as well as many nondisabled and disabled lesbians.

“At 23, I came out,” O’Toole said, “I met a woman in a women’s workshop.”

She got to know Kitty Cone, an out disabled lesbian and disability rights movement leader. (Cone died in 2015.) She connected O’Toole to the burgeoning independent living movement. “She brought me to the Center for Independent Living in Berkeley and to the disabled lesbian community,” O’Toole said.

The independent living movement believes in self-determination and self-respect for disabled people. It fights disability-based discrimination and views disability from a cultural and social, rather than a medical perspective. Independent living centers are community-based, non-profit organizations, organized and controlled by disabled people. They provide advocacy, information and other services.

“The Berkeley CIL had a lot of lesbians who were nondisabled,” O’Toole said, “we are the wives of every movement.”

O’Toole came to California at a pivotal moment in disability history – at the beginning of the modern disability rights movement. She quickly became a vital part of that history.

O’Toole, along with Cone and Judith Heumann, the disability rights movement founder who died last month, was a leader in a 1977 nearly month-long occupation by disabled protesters and their allies of a San Francisco federal building known as the “504 sit-in.” As a result of the protest, the Carter administration signed the ‘504′ regulations, which prohibited schools, hospitals, and other entities receiving federal funds from discriminating against disabled people. These regulations were the precursor to the ADA.

“Berkeley became like Mecca,” O’Toole, who is featured in the Oscar-nominated documentary “Crip Camp,” said. “Disabled people came to Berkeley from all over the world.”

In the years since the 1970s, O’Toole’s life has contained more multitudes than even Walt Whitman could have fathomed.

She is a single mom. Her daughter, whom she adopted, has a physical disability. O’Toole was a founder of the Axis Dance Company, an acclaimed ensemble of disabled and nondisabled performers. Currently, she’s working on a novel and traveling in a self-built camper van.

But things haven’t always been easy for O’Toole. Like many disabled parents, especially those who are disabled and queer, she’s encountered prejudice.

O’Toole’s daughter is now 30. Raising her daughter, O’Toole often feared that because she was a single mother, disabled and queer, she’d lose custody of her physically disabled child. It was fraught, O’Toole said, because of the bias against queer and disabled people being parents.

“The courts – the social service system – are all too happy to take your kids away,” O’Toole said.

O’Toole had to fight to get her daughter the services and education she needed.

“Because I was a lesbian, I had to constantly be in the closet,” she said, “our of fear that they’d take my child away if I was out.”

Her lovers, if they were around school system staff, would have to pretend to “just be my friends,” O’Toole said.

For decades, long before intersectionality was a fashionable buzzword, O’Toole, who is white, has thought about the intersection of class, queerness, race, and disability.

“I grew up in a working class neighborhood,” O’Toole said. “My Dad was a firefighter. I was taught a lot about class.”

“But there was a lot of racism embedded in my world,” she added.

It wasn’t until she went to Berkeley and became part of the lesbian community that she was “in rooms with lesbians of color,” O’Toole said.

White women need to listen better to women of color, she said. “We need to follow their lead.”

O’Toole couldn’t believe how much she didn’t know about what women of color experienced. Take just one thing: “I didn’t know that parking tickets could turn into jail sentences,” she said.

“I have to do the work,” O’Toole added, “it’s not their job to educate me. It’s my racism that’s blocking me from the truth.”

Despite all of the difficulties, O’Toole is hopeful. People are resilient. They love and care for each other, she said. “What are you doing to spread hope,” O’Toole asked.

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a&e features

Summer in D.C. brings sports, Restaurant Week, festivals, and more

Published

2 days ago

July 23, 2026

Evan Caplan

Washington Spirit CEO Kim Stone hosts Pride Night OUT on Sunday, Aug. 23. (Photo courtesy of Washington Spirit)

Summer in D.C. just hits different. Congress is out, school is out, the sun is out, thighs are out. With the skies clearing from Canadian smoke, here are a few ways to stay entertained.

Dining

Summer restaurant week: The Restaurant Association of Metropolitan Washington (RAMW) is once again hosting Summer Restaurant Week, Aug. 18-24. This weeklong dining experience showcases the dynamic dining scene of the DMV, including 2026 RAMMY Award-winning favorites (the annual D.C. food awards show that took place June 29). Participating restaurants will offer three-course brunch and lunch selections for $25 or $35 per person, and three-course dinners for $40, $55 and $65 per person.

New Restaurants: A handful of new spots have opened, so the summer is a great time to check them out:

Oribu: A new Mediterranean-Japanese restaurant in the Grand Hyatt hotel, which just underwent a remodeling effort. The sleek restaurant brings upscale charm, with dishes like Wagyu beef tartare with potato pavé and caviar.
The Oak Room: A snazzy old-school American grill has just opened in Georgetown, alongside its sister upstairs supper club (Bernadette’s) restaurant, in the old El Centro space.
Uchi: This showy Japanese sushi-forward chain has landed in Dupont with a chef’s tasting menu of favorites like fatty tuna.
Kathmandu: Recalling the capital of Nepal, this warm, buzzy subterranean restaurant right in the heart of U Street brings spice, flair, and rare ingredients to its dishes (see: buffalo burgers) and drinks.

Sports

Washington Spirit Pride Night OUT: On Sunday, Aug. 23, head to Audi Field for a massive, high-energy game following the exciting month of World Cup. The designated Pride Night OUT game promises boisterous crowds plus pre- and post-game community engagements.
Washington Tennis Open – Now called the Mubadala DC Open, this annual tournament is only combined mens’ and womens’ 500-level tennis tournament in the world. The open is one of D.C.’s longest-standing sports traditions, and will take place at the Rock Creek Park Tennis Center July 25-Aug. 2. Naomi Osaka, Venus Williams, Ben Shelton, Frances Tiafoe, and others are expected to play.

Festivals

Afro Plus Fest: This huge, three-day Afro-Caribbean Hip-Hop Festival brings together headliners Davido, Alkaline, and Wizkid, plus Tems and Ayra Starr. The event moves from RFK to the Northwest Stadium Complex for three days, Sept. 4-6.
Capital Fringe Festival: Running from July 11-21, this massive celebration features dozens of live theater, comedy, dance, and boundary-pushing nighttime performances across multiple DC neighborhoods.
The National Book Festival returns, with headliners like Cynthia Erivo, and Martin Scorsese. The one-day festival, Saturday, Aug. 22, brings together bookworms and word nerds under the theme “America 250: It’s Your Story.” There are talks, workshops, musical sessions and more.
All Things Go: A three-day festival Sept. 25-27 at Merriweather Post Pavilion featuring Mitski, Hayley Williams, Brandi Carlile, MUNA, Zara Larsson, Ethel Cain, and many, many more artists. There are single-day and three-day tickets. Featuring and highlighting female artists, the festival has turned into a must-see for many LGBTQ audience members.
Fuchsia Fest: The inaugural Fuchsia Fest is a new multi-day celebration created to celebrate LGBTQ community and expression, bringing together a mix of community gatherings, entertainment, and nightlife. The event takes place Sept. 18-20 and is hosted by Capital Pride.

Art and Music

United We Dance: A high-energy rave with house, techno, bass, and festival music, on Aug. 1 at the 9:30 Club.
The Fray. On Aug. 14, this American rock band famous for How To Save A Life is at Merriweather Post Pavilion.
Kesha: Kesha’s high-energy The Freedom Tour comes to the D.C. area on Aug. 14 at Jiffy Lube Live.
ALOK: On Sept. 3 at Lincoln Theater, ALOK (they/them) performs. The poet, comedian, and actor is putting on a new comedy show.
2charm, the emerging Australian electronic club-pop duo popular with the queer community, which blends hyperpop and dance music, comes to the Atlantis.
Sapphic Dance Party: a vibrant, inclusive nightlife and social event designed specifically for queer women, lesbians, bisexuals, trans individuals, and nonbinary folks, at Atlantis on Aug. 21.
Jazz in the Garden: The most quintessential of D.C. activities returns Friday evenings through Aug. 14. This season’s theme, “American Sounds,” is a nod to the nation’s 250th anniversary. Tunes themes range from Appalachian and Americana to Creole jazz, Hill Country blues, contemporary jazz, and more. Tickets are available through a lottery system a week before each event.

a&e features

Tickets on sale for chef Patrick O’Connell’s book launch event

Sept. 18 kickoff to feature José Andrés, Tom Sietsema

Published

4 days ago

July 21, 2026

Kevin Naff

Acclaimed chef Patrick O’Connell is preparing to publish his new memoir, “Main, Middle & Gay” in September and he’s launching the book with an event on Sept. 18 at 6 p.m. at Lisner Auditorium featuring Chef José Andrés and former Washington Post food critic Tom Sietsema.

Tickets for the event go on sale Tuesday, July 21 at Ticketmaster; prices start at $55.

O’Connell, who’s gay, is the pioneering Michelin-starred chef and longtime proprietor of the Inn at Little Washington. He spoke with the Blade about the September event and the launch of his first memoir.

“I’ve known [Andrés and Sietsema] for more than 25 years and I have great respect for them,” O’Connell said. “I felt that it would allow us to add a different dimension rather than just have an interviewer. The chemistry will be fun and lively and unpredictable and exciting. I think we’re all different personalities and we’ll compliment each other.”

O’Connell has published cookbooks but this is his first memoir. The event will feature a short film that will highlight his work and the Inn.

“What I hope to do with the event is bring the book to life visually,” he said. “So we’re producing a short film that will be part of it. Most of the audience will not have read the book so it’ll give them a visual flavor of the book. It parallels the evolution of American cuisine over 50 years. It’s a rare perspective to be in the trenches for that long.”

The book’s title refers to the location of the garage on the corner of Main, Middle, and Gay streets in Washington, Va., where he launched his restaurant that became an international culinary destination.

The Blade will publish the rest of its wide-ranging interview with O’Connell in September in conjunction with the book’s release.

a&e features

The queer Asian comics building collective joy in D.C.

Spotlighting chaotic ways family, romance, identity take shape in their lives

Published

1 week ago

July 16, 2026

Christina Lee

Alex Kim performs at the Pride Comedy Special in Washington, D.C., on June 18, 2026. (Photo by Christina Lee/VOICES)

Kevin Chen’s family tombstone has room for four: him, his parents and his boyfriend. The arrangement might prove to be a little awkward.

“My boyfriend is 100% white, and my parents are 100% disappointed,” Chen confessed.

Jokes about family traditions and the untraditional ways they’re practiced earned a burst of laughs at the bar where Chen was opening for the Pride Comedy Special. The D.C. stand-up event, produced by Comedy Bonfyre last month, spotlighted queer Asian comics who shared the chaotic ways family, romance and identity take shape in their lives.

From candid oral sex takes to top surgery hypotheticals like “Where do the boobs go?”, the night highlighted the loud camaraderie of the queer Asian experience — one that sounds like a cacophony of snorts, cackles and belly laughs. While the comics say they are not quite a community, there’s more than enough shared material to bring them together.

“It was such a magical experience. I loved performing in a queer API lineup. It feels so validating,” Chen said after the show. “I’m wondering, ‘Is this how white men feel all the time?’”

Each performance evoked queer Asian joy through a medium that could use more of its presence.

According to Chen, who is based in D.C., it’s hard to say whether there is a true queer Asian comedy presence in his city. There are only a scattered “handful” of Asian comics, and people of color are underrepresented in queer comic circles, he said.

When Tarunika Anand, a nonbinary lesbian comic, first entered the mainstream D.C. comedy scene, they mostly encountered straight white men, describing the experience as “a culture shock.”

“I feel like sometimes a lot of queer spaces are really white, and then a lot of Asian spaces are really straight,” Anand said. “I don’t feel like I fit into either.”

But feeling marginalized didn’t stop these comics from honing their craft and creating spaces for others like them. Alex Kim, who headlined the special and is based in Brooklyn, runs the queer Asian comedy group Boba Gays, which began on WhatsApp and has since made its way to Lincoln Center.

Every Wednesday, Anand co-produces a free comedy show called Funny Side Up. The queer-led group focuses on inclusivity and showcasing new talent.

“It’s really beautiful to speak about your experience and your existence in a way that’s uplifting,” Anand said.

Family is a major throughline of their comedic repertoires.

Chen, for instance, shared that he identifies with jokes about having Asian immigrant parents and the expectations they pass down.

“You see me, you know this part about me, you know this experience intimately, and I can see the truth that you’re trying to wrap a joke around,” he said. “That hits even harder because that’s my truth too. I think that’s what makes good comedy.”

Anand had the audience at the special howling when they explained that their parents’ be-more-like-them comparisons didn’t end when they came out. Instead, the expectations took on a new form.

“Now, my parents want me to be the best gay,” Anand said. “They’re like, ‘Do you know Ellen DeGeneres?’”

Kim said he’s been trying to unlearn things from his Christian Korean mom. Yet he described a moment when he was getting ready for the club and realized he looked just like his mother getting ready for church.

“I’ve been finding it hard to escape her,” Kim said.

Mutual recognition also radiates through the different ways queer love can take shape. From singlehood to death-do-us-part commitments, the comics cover just about every corner.

Anand is holding out hope for settling down with “a nice, pretty, Indian girl.” They recently went through a breakup and said they felt they dodged a bullet.

“As a person of color, I just don’t think I should be with a Swiftie,” they said.

Chen, touching on what it’s like to be in a queer interracial relationship, said that meeting his white boyfriend’s baby nephew for the first time felt like he was forced to participate in a diversity, equity and inclusion training.

“The dad was like, ‘Please welcome Kevin. Be curious about his culture, his history, his foods,’” Chen joked.

Laughter is not the only reward for the comics.

To Anand, comedy is a space where they can say whatever they want. “It gives me a voice,” they said.

Nik Narain, a North Carolina-based trans and nonbinary South Asian comic who performed at the special, said meeting older trans comedians and taking the stage helped him feel reassured in his identity during his transition.

“Stand-up was a really cool way to process that onstage,” he said. “[It] became a way for me to repackage my thoughts.”

Queer Asians are still figuring out their place in the greater D.C. comedy scene. The group is small in numbers and many are still working toward a full-time comedy career. But Narain feels he’s already made it.

Narain is reluctant to pin it all on one moment. He feels that success is already peeking through in milestones — opening for celebrities, traveling to performances and self-producing shows.

“As long as I can keep doing this, I’m super happy,” he said.

This story was produced as part of the AAJA VOICES fellowship program, a student journalism project of the Asian American Journalists Association (AAJA).