Karen Thompson: Gay and Disability Rights Activist

Day 24 of the Pride 30 Project for Pride Month, 2018.

Jeffry J. Iovannone
Queer History For the People
7 min readJul 3, 2018

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Karen Thompson did not intend to become an activist, though she created profound change simply by attempting to live her life in the way she thought best for herself and her disabled partner, Sharon Kowalski. Her seven-year legal battle to become Sharon’s guardian was a landmark struggle in both the Gay and Disability Rights Movements.

Thompson and Kowalski met in St. Cloud, Minnesota where Thompson was a professor of physical education at St. Cloud State University and Kowalski taught physical education and health at a local high school. They moved in together in 1979, had a commitment ceremony where they exchanged rings, and considered themselves married. They also named each other as beneficiaries on their life insurance policies. Neither “came out” to their families or revealed the exact nature of their relationship. But their partnership was good — that is until 1983, when Sharon was hit by a drunk driver.

The car accident left her with a traumatic brain injury and she was severely disabled. Sharon, who was only twenty-seven years old, was confined to a wheelchair, her ability to speak was impaired, and she suffered short-term memory loss. Thompson, however, was unable to find out the nature of her partner’s condition following the accident because, technically, she was not a member of Kowalski’s family. Though the Kowalski’s were always cordial toward Thompson, her frequent visits to the hospital left them suspicious and cold.

When Thompson, on the suggestion of her psychologist, revealed the nature of her relationship with Sharon to Donald and Della Kowalski, they were aghast and refused to believe their daughter was a lesbian. They restricted Thompson’s visits, and Thompson and the Kowalskis soon clashed over the nature of Sharon’s treatment. Thompson advocated for intensive rehabilitation focused on brain injury, while the Kowalskis placed Sharon in a nursing home. Once there, she was confined to bed and denied visitation from friends and competency testing to determine her level of comprehension and decision-making capacity. Concerned about the nature of Sharon’s care, and that she was being left to vegetate in an inappropriate facility, Thompson mounted what would be the first of three legal challenges that would occupy her life for the next seven years and place her, and her relationship with Sharon, in the national spotlight.

Thompson first sued for guardianship of Sharon, citing both their intimate relationship and Sharon’s expressed preference. Though her therapists determined she had the mental capacity of a four-to-six year old and her speech was limited, Sharon could communicate via typing short messages on a keyboard. Donald Kowalski, in response, asserted his parental bond to Sharon made him the most appropriate guardian. In July of 1985, Kowalski won guardianship, and the decision was upheld by the Minnesota Court of Appeals. As guardian, Donald Kowalski was given the power to determine Sharon’s visitors. Thompson assumed that, though she lost her bid for guardianship, she would retain visitation rights. But Donald Kowalski terminated her visitation within 24 hours of the court’s decision, citing, in part, that Thompson might attempt to sexually abuse Sharon. The Kowalskis argued that Sharon never told them she was a lesbian; therefore, Thompson, an affirmed lesbian, fabricated the nature of their relationship in order to prey upon their now vulnerable daughter.

Prejudice towards gay relationships and the disabled was on full display in both the Minnesota court’s decision and Donald Kowalski’s use of his guardianship power. Had Karen Thompson and Sharon Kowalski been a heterosexual couple and legally married, Thompson’s right to guardianship would have been accepted without question. Donald Kowalski further cited stereotypes of lesbians and gays as “sexually predatory” to justify his decision to exclude Thompson from visitation. Again, had the couple been heterosexual, few would regard a husband visiting his disabled wife (or vice versa) as inappropriate. Furthermore, the courts emphasized Thompson’s sexuality, positioning her as a sexually exploitative lesbian from whom Sharon must be protected, while denying Sharon’s sexuality and lesbian identity outright in favor of biological kinship ties. Indeed, the courts characterized Thompson not as Sharon’s partner, but merely as her “former roommate.”

Disabled persons, especially before the passage of the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) in 1990, were often regarded as children incapable of making informed decisions about their own care. The ADA is a broad piece of civil rights legislation that prohibits discrimination against persons with disabilities in all areas of public life. As such, the act helped to integrate disabled people into society and give them newfound visibility. But Sharon’s preferences for her care were not adequately taken into consideration, either by the Kowalskis or the courts. Stereotypes of both gays and the disabled intersected within the quest for guardianship. Because Sharon was regarded as infantile due to her brain injury, her sexual identity was therefore deemed nonexistent in the eyes of the court. Because disabled persons are often seen as childlike, and children are regarded as sexually innocent, they are likewise viewed as asexual.

Cut off from Sharon completely, Thompson then initiated a second legal challenge. She petitioned the court to find Donald Kowalski in contempt for terminating her visitation rights and sought to remove him as Sharon’s guardian. The Minnesota District Court and, later, the Court of Appeals both upheld Donald Kowalski’s guardianship and his right to deny Thompson visitation, affirming that doing so was in Sharon’s best interest.

Three years after he ended Thompson’s visitation rights, Donald Kowalski informed the courts he was unable to continue as Sharon’s guardian due to declining health. As a replacement, he recommended Karen Tomberlin, a friend of the Kowalski family and Sharon’s high school coach. Thompson intervened and renewed her efforts to be named as Sharon’s guardian. The court, yet again, rejected Thompson’s petition, naming Tomberlin as guardian despite the fact she was not particularly well-suited for the role and was able to visit Sharon only infrequently.

Finally, in 1991, the Minnesota Court of Appeals, in In re Guardianship of Kowalski, reversed the decision and granted guardianship to Thompson, citing expert testimony that attested to both Thompson’s fitness to act as guardian and Sharon’s preference. While Sharon had virtually no short-term memory, she remembered her relationship with Thompson and her lesbian identity. Though she was unable to speak due to her brain injury, she was able to communicate her wishes by typing on a keyboard and through gestures. The court concluded that:

“Thompson and Sharon are a family of affinity, which ought to be accorded respect.”

The decision was a landmark for both the Gay and Disability Rights Movements. This was the first time a court deemed the rights of a gay partner as similar to those of a legal spouse. The court also affirmed the rights of persons with disabilities to make decisions regarding their care. Thompson prevailed in the face of medical, legal, and familial challenges — all of which were not historically on the side of gays and the disabled.

Gay and disability rights activists had rallied behind Thompson’s case, organizing a National Free Sharon Kowalski Day on August 7th of 1988. Processions and vigils were held in 21 cities across the United States, including Boston, New York, San Francisco, and Washington, D.C. At these events, crowds rallied behind the slogan: “Why Can’t Sharon Kowalski Come Home?” Though Thompson initially sought national publicity for her case due to her mounting legal fees, she ultimately turned activist, speaking at gay pride and feminist events and rallies across the country, using her story as a way to raise awareness of the pervasive discrimination gays and lesbian faced, particularly within the medical establishment and the law.

The case was certainly not the first to position biological family against gay people’s “families of affinity,” though it became the most symbolic. Gay men, in particular, saw themselves reflected in Thompson’s struggle, as many had been denied access to partners who died from AIDS or were evicted from their homes or apartments because they did not have the legal status of spouse. Though Thompson was not explicitly an activist for the AIDS Civil Rights Movement or for same-gender marriage, her case intersected with both, highlighting the necessity of gay relationships gaining social and legal recognition. Without such protections gay couples could, at best, draw up protective legal documents such as wills, powers of attorney, and healthcare proxies.

Some scholars have suggested that, though marriage equality as a gay rights issues had been on the table since the Stonewall Inn Riots of 1969, the marriage equality movement kicked into high gear in the early 1990s, in part, due to the intense publicity Thompson’s case received throughout the majority of the 1980s and her eventual victory in having her partnership legally affirmed. The case also represented the first time gay and disability rights activists worked together on a national cause, highlighting the intersections of both movements. Gay and disability rights activists discovered their work was animated by many of the same healthcare concerns.

Though Thompson, whose initial desire was simply to bring Sharon home, became a nationally recognized social-justice activist, Sharon Kowalski’s efforts must be highlighted as well, lest we reaffirm stereotypes of the disabled challenged by Thompson’s legal battles. Sharon, like Thompson, was persistent in making her preferences regarding her care known.

Thompson, in retrospect, regretted living in the closet and wished she and Sharon had made the nature of their partnership known, thus speaking to the importance of gays and lesbians having social recognition and legal protection. Thompson painfully realized that without such basic conditions, profound harm could be inflicted on another person simply by the fact of one’s love for them.

“We didn’t understand that as long as we were invisible we were vulnerable,” she said.

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Jeffry J. Iovannone
Queer History For the People

Historian, writer, and educator with a PhD in American Studies. I specialize in gender and LGBTQ history of the U.S. Email: jeffry.iovannone@gmail.com