District of Columbia
Recovery at the Triangle Club
Coming together as a group to fight a common addiction

On Sunday, between the Dupont Italian Kitchen, where the tables are filled with the boozy brunches of the kickball gays, and Mikko, where a young couple is celebrating their anniversary with some Champagne, the door to a row-house opens, and all at once, a crowd pours forth onto the stairs. Only the stairs keep on filling. These folks arenāt leaving. Theyāve only left the building to come to the stairs, just to chat. Itās as though 100 people all decided to go for a smoke out front, all at the same time. But if you ask them why theyāre there, youāll get only the vaguest of answers. āWeāre just coming from a meeting,ā one will say. āItās a clubhouse,ā says another.
There are good reasons for this vagueness. The Triangle Club is a center for queer folk to attend recovery meetings: Overeaters Anonymous, Alcoholics Anonymous, Crystal Meth Anonymous, Sexual Compulsives Anonymous. Itās part of the very mission of these groups to protect the privacy of their members. But these groups also want those in the queer community who need the support to know that theyāre there. And so the folks at the Triangle Club were kind enough to welcome the Blade into their space for a few meetings, to see how things worked and shed some light on what theyāre all about.
The Club had its kickoff meeting in 1988, during the AIDS crisis. Churches werenāt particularly enthusiastic about hosting gay recovery meetings in their back rooms. And so the Club sought to provide a safe place for those meetings to take place. At the time of the clubās founding, it was estimated that gays and lesbians were twice as likely to report problems with alcohol abuse than heterosexuals. One would hope that things might have changed in the intervening years. But according to a government report released this summer, that figure has barely improved. (The government report did not collect any statistics on transgender people.)
Of course there is no single reason queer people develop problems with drugs and alcohol. But one in particular struck me, especially as a reason I heard coming from a lot of the younger folk at the Triangle Club. āI thought meth was a prerequisite for going out,ā said one. āI thought thatās what you did.ā Another said, āI drank to find community. And then I drank to numb myself when I didnāt find it in the gay community.ā Again and again, I heard stories about turning to drugs and alcohol as a way of finding connection, and as a way of coping with the failure to find connection.

And so while I heard a lot of gratitude for the role the meetings at the Triangle Club played in peopleās recovery, I also heard a lot of gratitude for the community of the Triangle Club itself. It wasnāt just that the Club helped people turn away from an unhealthy way of solving their problems. Itās that it gave them what they were really looking for in the first place: a community they could call their own.
Improbably, as I left a meeting of Crystal Meth Anonymous, I found myself wishing to be an addict in recovery. To have a place to share things that would go unsaid among friends and family, let alone therapists. To take part, week after week, in one anotherās mission for a more fulfilling life. To be present for the absolute raucousness, as when one gentleman described living on meth as āwearing a fur coat into a swimming pool,ā and then āturning the wave-machine on.ā To hear the applause that only someone four days sober could receive. But what kind of destructive, life-threatening wish was I making? I couldnāt possibly be serious.
Many of us in the queer community are exhausted by drinking, if not drugging, our way into it. That exhaustion might not rise to the level of addiction, but this has the perverse consequence of not driving us to seek alternative forms of belonging. One of the men I interviewed kept talking of the āsober community,ā and my ears perked up. Perhaps there was a broader community of folks, of which those in recovery were only a part, that wasnāt centered around substance use.
āThe sober community absolutely extends beyond the Triangle Club,ā he told me. āThere are a bunch of other gay meetings that go on.ā This wasnāt exactly what I hoped to hear. What a sorry state weāre in, I couldnāt help but feel that to be part of the sober community was to be in recovery. As though the community of substance use were so mandatory that it had to drive you to your own personal edge in order for you to find community in sobriety.
The Triangle Club should not be overly romanticized, and theyād be the first to tell you. People talked of trying to find fellowship at the club in the past, and not necessarily succeeding. Being one of two Black people in the room, only for the other to drop out of the program. Or of the demands of service, dragging yourself out late Friday night to chair a meeting, or sponsoring someone for the first time and being scared that you arenāt the right one to advise them. But I think itās a testament to the space that these things could be said in the space. The meetings arenāt a place of mandatory optimism, but honest experience. And what good is a meeting for sharing honest experience if you canāt share your negative experiences too?
I had hoped, as part of this feature, to attend a meeting of Sexual Compulsives Anonymous. The two meetings I appealed to were kind enough to hold a vote on whether they would open their doorsābut in the end they opted to remain private. One gentleman from the meetings volunteered to share a little of what these meetings were all about. Recovery meetings in general depend on coming together as a group to fight a common addiction. But āSā meetings, as the gentleman described them, canāt take ācoming togetherā lightly, nor a ācommon addictionā lightly.
To begin with, sexual addiction is not as straightforwardly defined as addiction to drugs or alcohol. What sobriety is for one person is not what sobriety is for another. One person might be trying to curtail a masturbation habit. But for others? āThat simply isnāt an option,ā the gentleman said. And unlike recovery meetings for substances, which can ban substances from the room, the same canāt as easily be said for āSā meetings. Weāre sexual beings, and so inevitably, to bring yourself into a room is to bring sexuality along with it. The recovery meetings at the Triangle Club usually end with the group joining hands to say the serenity prayer. But this canāt be a given at āSā meetings, where joining hands might be violating someoneās boundary.
With the pandemic waning, most recovery meetings have slowly started to transition away from video format back to in-person. But āSā meetings have been more reluctant to do so, and most have stuck with a hybrid format. One veteran of Al-Anon voiced his relief at coming back to the rooms. āYou canāt hug a square!ā I suspect thatās the very reason āSā meetings have been slow to return.
Part of my disappointment in not attending the āSā meetings was how central they seemed to be to a queer recovery organization. Substance abuse might disproportionately affect the queer community, but it is the addicts who are queer, not the addictions. If the addiction is to love or sex, however, the addiction itself is inextricably queer. Arenāt the āSā meetings the heart, in a sense, of the Triangle Club? But a conversation with a gentleman from Alcoholics Anonymous had me rethinking this. ā[Accepting youāre an alcoholic,] itās similar to coming out as gay,ā he said. āThere are people out there who view it as a moral failing, but itās just part of who I am.ā
The experience of coming out is so central to being queer. How could coming out as an addict have nothing whatsoever to do with it? The same story of a newfound, authentic life was as common to the folks at the Triangle Club as it would be to anyone who comes out as queer.
(CJ Higgins is a postdoctoral fellow with the Alexander Grass Humanities Institute at Johns Hopkins University.)

District of Columbia
Taste of Pride serves community, cuisine ahead of WorldPride
Capital Pride Alliance partners with local restaurants to celebrate LGBTQ culture, support small businesses, and raise funds for the Pride365 Fund.

With WorldPride set to kick off next month, bringing an estimated two million visitors to D.C., the cityās LGBTQ and restaurant communities are preparing for an unprecedented celebration.
Capital Pride Alliance, the nonprofit organization behind D.C.’s Pride events, is uniting the city’s LGBTQ and culinary communities to raise money for the Pride365 Fund through a program called Taste of Pride.
Taste of Pride partners with local restaurants across the District to generate funds for the Pride365 Fund, which, in turn, supports local LGBTQ organizations.
The Washington Blade sat down with Brandon Bayton, Special Projects & Influencer Manager for Capital Pride, to discuss how Taste of Pride is giving everyone the chance to support the LGBTQ community while enjoying incredible local cuisine.
āD.C. has become really known as sort of a foodie city,ā said Bayton. āThe restaurants that are participating are really stepping up to show their support for the LGBTQ community-especially in these troubling times right now. For them to step up and say, āHey, we support you,ā it’s an opportunity for us to share them with our community and say, āWe can support you too.āā
For Bayton, who is also the lead planner and producer for Taste of Pride, these restaurants’ open commitment to being safe spaces for the LGBTQ community serves three key purposes. The first is that they create a sense of belonging.
āBy these restaurants participating, there is visibility,ā he said. āThey’re saying the LGBTQ community is here. They are patrons. We respect them and we support them. That, first and foremost, is one.ā The participating restaurants are also given a sticker to display in their window that proves they are an official restaurant of Taste of Pride.
The second key aspect, Bayton explained, is that these restaurants are financially supporting an organization that directly benefits Washingtonās LGBTQ community. To participate, restaurants must contribute at least $250 to Capital Pride, which serves as a donation to the Pride365 Fund.
āThese restaurants are supporting us financially too,ā Bayton said. āThey are pretty much donating. There are tiers, and those tiers are donations to the Pride365 Fund-which is Capital Prideās fundraising arm. That fund supports not just Capital Pride, but our sister organizations too, where we do grants and loans. We can disperse funds to SMYAL or the DC LGBTQ Center. Some of the funds that we’ve been raising go into the completion of the LGBTQ Center. Itās a fund that really supports the community.ā
Lastly, Taste of Pride provides a platform for restaurants to showcase not only their food but also the queer history of their neighborhoods.
āThe third thing is some of these restaurants are doing actual events, from drag events to poetry readings and hosting artists,ā Bayton said. āAnnieās is a participant that’s going to be part of the Dupont Circle/17th Street Taste of Pride weekend in June, and they’re hosting a book launch for an author. His name is Erik Piepenburg, and he has featured Annie’s and other LGBTQ establishments in his book, “Dining Out.” The Watergate [Hotel] has four events that they’re doing. The Union Market community is doing special events for its Taste of Pride. It has been a win-win for everyone.ā
So far, Taste of Pride has hosted two events: a kickoff event at Hook Hall and a weekend event with the Georgetown Business Improvement District (BID). If those events were any indication, Bayton said, this yearās Taste of Pride is shaping up to be both delicious and fabulous.
āWe had a great panel of chefs,ā he said about the January kickoff party. āWe had David Hagedorn, Rob Heim from Shawās Tavern, these guys who call themselves Pirate Ventures. And we had Chef Angela Rose, who not only is a member of the [LGBTQ] community but also leads the Go-Go Museumās cafĆ©.ā
The event also showcased two local drag artists.
āWe had two performers-Frieda PoussĆ”y and Dior Couture, a definite rising star in D.C. It was a night of food, camaraderie, networking, and friends getting together. It was a nice community event.ā
Taste of Pride will continue throughout the city, with different Business Improvement Districts (BIDs) hosting culinary-focused weekends from now until July 31. Participating neighborhoods include NoMa, Dupont Circle, Golden Triangle, Capitol Hill, the Capitol Riverfront, and more.
This weekend, Adams Morgan will take center stage, serving up its own Taste of Pride. From the famous pupusas at El Tamarindo to the juicy burgers at Lucky Buns, these iconic and top-rated AdMo restaurants will not only be selling delicious food and raising money for the LGBTQ community, but theyāll also be āsharing a story ā one of diversity, inclusion, and Pride.ā
When asked how people should get involved in the Taste of Pride events, Bayton explained that Capital Pride found an app to ātry to take the heavy lifting off of the restaurants by creating a specialized portal and employing an app.ā
āOne of the things is to download your Bandwango pass, because that gives you access to all the neighborhood groups as they come online,ā he said.
Additionally, Bayton said posting a photo on social media is a great way to bring awareness to local restaurants supporting the LGBTQ community.
āWhen you go into the restaurants, take a picture, tag them, show your support for them,ā he said.
This is not the first year Taste of Pride has taken place, Bayton told the Blade. It began in 2021 to support struggling local businesses during the COVID-19 pandemic but has since evolved into what it is today.
Bayton also shared his hopes for the future of Taste of Pride and for it to be recognized as much as a foodie event as a fundraising opportunity.
āMy vision for Taste of Pride is that it becomes a staple of Capital Pride, not just something we do around Pride weekend. It becomes something that is ongoing. I would like to see it grow to become a major event, similar to the Pink Tie Party or Chefs for Equality, but always with the goal of interacting with the community and the allies of our community.ā
That goal, he said, is impossible to achieve without food.
āI think we connect over food,ā Bayton said. āWhen people sit down and they have dinner, it’s that time that provides an opportunity to allow us to connect with one another. Food serves as a key bridge.ā
District of Columbia
D.C.-area schools to protest Trumpās āassault on public educationā
Students unite against Trumpās education cuts in unprecedented protest

Student government leaders from multiple D.C.-area schools are coming together to protest recent Trump administration actions aimed at restricting student rights in America.
On Friday, April 4, at 4 p.m., the student governments of Georgetown, George Washington, Howard, American, George Mason, and Temple plan to protest the Trump-Vance administrationās efforts to dismantle public education at the Department of Education building (400 Maryland Ave., S.W.), just south of the National Mall. This āunprecedented coalitionā of higher education student governments in the D.C.-Maryland-Virginia region, representing 130,000 students, will gather to tell the administration to keep its āHands Off Our Schools.ā
In a statement emailed to the Washington Blade, Asher Maxwell, press coordinator for the Georgetown University Student Association, called this a āhistoric coalitionā and said the protest will highlight how Trumpās policiesādismantling the Department of Education, eradicating DEI initiatives, eliminating funding for academic programs and financial aid, and silencing student voicesāare affecting students.
Former middle school principal and U.S. Rep. Jamaal Bowman of New York, along with campus free speech advocate Mary Beth Tinker, known for her role in Tinker v. Des Moines, are slated to speak at the rally about the importance of public education and free speech amid what they call the administrationās disregard for the rule of law and constitutionally protected acts such as protesting and speaking out against the government.
The rally is expected to draw thousands of students, from college to kindergarten, as well as First Amendment supporters and those angered by the administration’s efforts to minimize the federal government. Since taking office, Trump has laid off tens of thousands of federal employees, including many within the Department of Education, as he and his senior adviser, Elon Musk, strip away protections and federal spending that disproportionately affect LGBTQ people, people of color, and students.
The Washington Blade reached out to the White House for comment but has not received a response.
District of Columbia
D.C. police investigating anti-gay assault in Shaw
Police say suspect punched victim in face after shouting āhomophobic slursā

D.C. police are investigating a March 7, 2025, assault case listed as a suspected hate crime in which an unidentified male suspect punched a man in the face on the sidewalk outside an apartment building after calling the victim and his male friend āfaggots.ā
The victim, Destin Karol, and his friend, Ian Dotson, both residents of Arlington, Va., told the Washington Blade the assault took place about 10 p.m. while they were walking along 7th Street, N.W. on their way to the Shaw-Howard University Metro station.
The two men said while walking in front of the upscale 7th Flats apartment building at 1825 7th St., N.W., they saw the male suspect and a woman he was with get out of a car parked in front of the building. Seconds later, they saw the woman vomiting on the sidewalk as they walked past her, the two men told the Blade.
At that time, the male suspect yelled, āWhat are you looking at, faggots,ā Karol and Dotson told the Blade. The suspect then punched Karol in the face āseveral times,ā according to a D.C. police report.
Karol said he was diagnosed the next day at a hospital in Arlington near his home with a broken jaw that required the jaw to be wired shut.
Dotson said D.C. police arrived on the scene after he called 911 after witnessing the suspect punching Karol, knocking him down and kicking Karol in the face while he was lying on the sidewalk.
Karol said an ambulance arrived on the scene and paramedics treated his facial injury with an ice pack and offered to take him to the hospital. He said he declined the offer, choosing to go home first. But upon experiencing intense pain the next day, he visited a medical clinic whose doctors told him to immediately go to the nearby hospital emergency room.
An initial version of the D.C. police incident report did not list the incident as a suspected hate crime. But a revised version of the report, which was issued after the Blade contacted police to ask about the earlier report, classifies the incident as a āsuspected hate crime.ā
The revised report states that the suspect, after telling the victim, āWhat are you looking at,ā proceeded to āclose fist strike Victim 1 in the left jaw area several times.ā It says Subject 2, who was Dotson, told police the suspect āyelled out homophobic slurs.ā
The report concludes by saying, Suspect 1 āwas last seen heading inside 1825 7th Street, N.W.ā
According to Karol, police so far have not changed the report, at Karolās request, to list the incident as an ‘aggravated assaultā rather than its current listing as a āsimple assault.ā Karol points out that under police policy, an assault-related injury that causes a broken bone should be classified as an aggravated assault.
Karol and Dotson said the police report also does not mention that they told the two police officers who arrived on the scene that they saw the suspect and the woman he was with get out of a car and they showed the two officers which car it was as it was parked in front of the apartment building.
Karol told the Blade he and Dotson asked at least one of the officers to take down the license plate number of the car, but the officer said it was not necessary for him to do so. Dotson said he recalls that the car was a white, 4-door Volkswagen hatchback with a Virginia license plate.
Dotson said he and Karol were disappointed that the police did not appear to take down the license number and he regrets that he did not write it down himself. But he said he recalls that the Virginia license tag consisted of all letters and no numbers, with the letters āINā as part of it.
He described the suspect as a white male appearing to be between 35 or 45 years old with brown hair and a goatee or beard.
D.C. police spokesperson Paris Lewbel said a Third District police detective has been assigned to the case and the case remains under active investigation. He said he could not comment on the issues raised by Karol and Dotson under a police policy of not disclosing specific details in an ongoing investigation.
Karol said he has been speaking with Detective Wilson, whose first name he does not recall, and said he most recently spoke with her on Tuesday, April 1. āTheyāre trying to get the license plate of this individual and theyāre trying to get the camera footage from the apartment building and the adjacent buildings,ā Karol said the detective told him.
Dotson said at the time the police arrived on the scene on the night of March 7, an employee from the 7th Flat apartment building who identified himself as the concierge came out of the building and told one of the police officers that he saw the male suspect and the woman he was with enter the building.
Police spokesperson Lewbel said he could not disclose whether the concierge was able to help police identify the suspect under the policy of not disclosing details of an ongoing investigation.
Police urge members of the public who may have witnessed an incident like this or who may know something about it, including the identity of a suspect, to call the police information line of 202-727-9099.
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