Arts & Entertainment
‘Orange is the New Black’ back with riveting final season
Hit Netflix show changed TV forever in multiple ways

Sometimes the hype is true. When the first 13 episodes of “Orange Is the New Black” dropped on July 11, 2013, it changed the way Americans watched television and the role of women in the broadcast industry, both onscreen and behind the cameras.
Now that the seventh and final season has dropped, it’s time to look back on the tremendous impact the series has had and take a spoiler-free look at the “Beginning of the End” as episode one of the last season is titled.
When the series launched, Netflix was a fledgling streaming service best known for shipping DVDs to your home in red envelopes. With the critical and popular success of “Orange,” Netflix became a major Hollywood player producing television series and eventually movies that earned nominations and trophies from such prestigious organizations as GLAAD, GALECA, the Golden Globes, the Emmys and more.
The show also helped to popularize the concept of “binge watching.” Fans spent entire weekends watching every episode of the first season and the way we watched television began to change.
“Orange” also broke new ground with its realistic portrayal of life in a women’s prison and its treatment of serious social issues. Over the course of the first six seasons, the show explored mass incarceration and the rise of the private prison industry; the tension between punishment and rehabilitation; staff corruption and guard brutality; prison overcrowding and funding cuts; substance abuse; violence against women; the terrible impact of solitary confinement; white privilege, white supremacy, institutionalized racism and the Black Lives Matter movement; and the #MeToo Movement.
In season seven, series creator Jenji Kohan takes on a new issue: the inhumane brutality of ICE detention centers. The detention center is run by the same corporation that runs the prison, but conditions there are even worse. The detainees have even fewer rights than the prisoners and limited contact with friends and family. As one detainee realizes, “nobody knows where we are.”
“Orange” also made great strides in the employment and representation of women in television. The casting of trans actress Laverne Cox as inmate Sophia Burset was a historic move that made Cox into a star and an important trans spokesperson. The casting of comedian Lea DeLaria as Carrie “Big Boo” Black was a milestone in the representation of butch lesbians, especially when she brandished a dildo on screen.
Overall, the cast included a rich spectrum of women of different races and ethnicities, sexual orientations and gender identities, ages, socio-economic classes and cognitive abilities. The show also explored a wide variety of life-affirming sexual and platonic relationships between women and celebrated the power of female resilience.
In addition, Kohan also emphasized hiring women to write and direct many of the episodes (several of the shows in later season were directed by cast members). The writing throughout the series was first-rate. Kohan and company craftily used flashbacks to fill in character backstories (and to move the action outside of the prison walls). They also effectively used a delicious dark sense of gallows humor to help lighten the heavy material. The direction was smooth and assured, gliding effortlessly between the various characters and plotlines.
Long-term fans of the show will have no trouble gliding into season seven, which picks up where season six ended. Piper Chapman (Taylor Schilling) has been released on parole but remains in a long-distance relationship with inmate Alex Vause (Laura Prepon). She’s living with her New Age brother Cal (the very funny Michael Chernus) and is having trouble paying for her monitoring devices while working a dead-end job.
With the help of “Pennsatucky” (Taryn Manning), Suzanne “Crazy Eyes” Warren (the dazzling Uzo Aduba) tries to reconcile with her old friends Cindy “Black Cindy” Hayes (Adrienne C. Moore) and Tasha “Taystee” Jefferson (Danielle Brooks). Gloria Mendoza (Selenis Leyva) and Galina “Red” Reznikov (the magnificent Kate Mulgrew) find themselves working in a different kitchen facility.
There’s also lots of turnover and turmoil with the prison staff and their families.
Finally, fan favorites Diane Guerrero (as Maritza Ramos) and Laura Gómez (as Blanca Flores) return as former inmates who are detained during an ICE raid.
If you didn’t watch the first six seasons (and don’t have time to binge-watch over 80 hours of previous episodes) can you start “Orange Is the New Black” midstream? The answer is a resounding yes. The large cast and overlapping plot lines an be daunting at first but it’s easy to read up on the backstory online.
For fans old and new, the seventh and final season of this ground-breaking series is well worth watching. The show digs deeply into some of the most troubling issues of these turbulent times and asks difficult questions that we all must grapple with.
As Suzanne asks, “Do I deserve to be here?” Or, as Gloria and Red discuss, “How do we get back to who we were before?”
Just as humans have always had meals, queer humans, too, have enjoyed meals. Yet what is it that makes “queer food” distinct?
At the beginning of May in Montreal, the Queer Food Conference 2026 sought not to answer that question, but to further interrogate it. The conference united scholars, activists, artists, journalists, farmers, chefs, and other food industry professionals for three days of panels, workshops, discussions, and, yes, meals, in an inclusive, thoughtful, contemplative-yet-whimsical environment, taking a comprehensive view of the landscape of queer food.
The two organizers – Professor Alex Ketchum, at the Institute for Gender, Sexuality, and Feminist Studies of McGill University in Montreal, and Professor Megan Elias, Director of Food Studies & Gastronomy at Boston University – met in 2022 when Elias acted as a peer reviewer for Ketchum’s second book, “Ingredients for a Revolution,” a wide-ranging history of more than 230 feminist and lesbian-feminist restaurants, cafes, and coffeehouses from 1972 to the present in the US.
Elias, taken by the book and its exploration, invited Ketchum to speak at one of Elias’s courses, at which pastries were served and feminist bread making was baked into conversation. Elias floated the idea of co-organizing a queer food conference – and a hot 24 hours later, Ketchum said yes, with plans sketched out, from grants to topics to speakers. In parallel, the duo started to conceptualize “Queers at the Table,” a book based on their work (published last year).
The conference, the book, the research: their work is, in part, grounded in the question: What is queer food? True to queer theory, each has her own nuanced response as drivers of their research, challenging the traditional and looking beyond norms of food studies. Ketchum’s view is that it is grounded on food by and for the queer community, in specific histories, and especially in the labor behind the food. Elias posits that queer food is at the intersection of queerness and culinary studies, beyond gender norms and binaries, back to the societal basics of queer food as part of queer humans always having meals. “Queer food destabilizes assumptions about food, gender and sexuality, making space for a wider range of relationships to food,” she says.
The academics’ professed enthusiasm, however, rarely reached beyond small circles.
“I regularly attended big food studies conferences, but almost never saw presentations about gender identity beyond women’s roles,” says Elias about her prior work, and when her students would ask for additional literature about sexuality and food, results had been sparse. Ketchum echoed this gap: When she was in graduate studies, she received hesitation from leadership about her chosen field of study. By 2024, however, queer food as an area of study and practice had grown, whether in popular culture or well as in publishing, setting the stage for the first Queer Food Conference in 2024 in Boston. Their aim at that even was to launch the subfield of queer food studies into the mainstream, so that fellow academics, students, and those interested in the space could convene, “creating space for others to build,” says Ketchum. “People were enthusiastic.”
Once Ketchum and Elias published “Queers at the Table” in 2025 (notably, gay author John Birdsall also published a book examining queer identity through food last year, “What Is Queer Food?”), they laid the foundation for the 2026 conference in Montreal. This edition was an “embodied” conference, inclusive of various ontologies in queer food studies: theory, labor, art, taste, an interdisciplinary, expansive grounding.
Topics ranged from cookbooks and influencers to farming and land movements, bars and cafes, brewing and baking, history and sociology, writing and printmaking, healthcare and community, and centering marginalized – especially trans – voices.
Naturally, food was centered. The conference’s keynotes were not academics, but the chefs themselves who created the food with their own hands that attendees ate over the three days. “Not to disregard a pure academic space,” says Ketchum, “but to not have food in a room when we talk about food would be wild.”
Jackson Tucker, a Distinguished Graduate Fellow at the University of Delaware, said that “What I found [at the conference] was a genuinely diverse gathering: scholars who did grounded social research but also practitioners, organizers, and people who had never thought about an academic conference in their lives and didn’t need to. That mix is the soul of this whole project for me. Without the people who are out in the world doing queer food, the conference wouldn’t exist.”
Ketchum – her home being Montreal – also worked to fold in community-driven events so that attendees could get a taste of queer food in the city outside of classroom walls; for example, attendees participated in a collaborative evening pizza-making class at a queer-owned pizzeria.
The interdisciplinary nature of the conference led to sharing of research, thoughts, activities, and planning. There was a “value of bringing people together of different backgrounds, which leads to richer discussion,” she says.
Elias picked up on this theme: “I saw people bonding and connecting and believing in Queer Food Studies,” – one of the central goals that Ketchum noted, further legitimizing a nascent field. As both professors continue their research and leadership, they envision a continued layering of centering the queer experience and community through the shared value and study of food.
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Gay Men’s Chorus celebrates 45 years at annual gala
‘Sapphire & Sparkle’ Spring Affair held at the Ritz Carlton
The Gay Men’s Chorus of Washington held the annual Spring Affair gala at the Ritz Carlton Washington, D.C. on Saturday. The theme for this year’s fete was “Sapphire & Sparkle.” The chorus celebrated 45 years in D.C. with musical performances, food, entertainment, and an awards ceremony.
Gay Men’s Chorus of Washington Executive Director Justin Fyala and Artistic Director Thea Kano gave welcoming speeches. Opening remarks were delivered by Spring Affair co-chairs Tracy Barlow and Tomeika Bowden. Uproariously funny comedian Murray Hill performed a stand-up set and served as the emcee.
There were performances by Gay Men’s Chorus of Washington groups Potomac Fever, 17th Street Dance, the Rock Creek Singers, Seasons of Love, and the GenOUT Youth Chorus.

Anjali Murthy, a member of the chorus and a graduate of the GenOUT Youth Chorus, addressed the attendees of the gala.
“The LGBTQ+ community isn’t bound by blood ties: we are brought together by shared experience,” Murthy said. “Being Gen Z, I grew up with Ellen [DeGeneres] telling me through the TV screen that it gets better: that one day, it’ll all be okay. The sentiment isn’t wrong, but it’s passive. What I’ve learned from GMCW is that our future is something we practice together. It exists because people like you continue to show up for it, to believe in the possibilities of what we’re still becoming”
The event concluded with the presentation of the annual Harmony Awards. This year’s awardees included local drag artist and activist Tara Hoot, the human rights organization Rainbow Railroad as well as Rocky Mountain Arts Association Executive Director, Dr. Chipper Dean.
(Washington Blade photos and videos by Michael Key)































Equality Prince William Pride was held at the Harris Pavilion in Manassas, Va. on Saturday, May 16.
(Washington Blade photos by Landon Shackelford)















