I came across a meme recently that I couldn’t ignore. It read: « Remember Mark Bingham, the gay hero who helped save the Capitol on 9/11. » The words hit me hard—not because they honored a hero, but because they missed the point of his heroism. The emphasis on his sexual orientation, rather than his bravery and sacrifice, disturbed me deeply. How could a tragedy of such immense scale, which changed the course of history and affected countless lives, be reduced to a statement focused on identity politics? It felt wrong, even disrespectful.
September 11, 2001, left a profound impact on me, as it did on millions around the world. For me, it wasn’t just something I watched unfold on TV or read about in the papers. It hit incredibly close to home. Shawn Henderson, the person who is to this day most important to me despite some recent personal challenges, was traveling that day. He was either flying out of Philadelphia or transiting through it—I can’t quite recall all the details anymore, but I remember the fear vividly. All air traffic was grounded, and I was terrified that Shawn could have been on one of those doomed flights.
For hours, I couldn’t think clearly. My mind raced with worst-case scenarios: What if he had boarded one of the targeted planes? What if the terrorists had chosen his flight? It was a period of uncertainty and deep anxiety. Those feelings stuck with me long after the immediate crisis had passed, even when Shawn, thankfully, was safe.
That day didn’t just affect me emotionally—it completely shifted my life’s direction. I was working at Elections Canada at the time, but 9/11 changed my priorities. It gave me a new sense of purpose. I left my role in election law and entered the field of national security law, where I stayed for over 18 years. The drive to contribute, to help protect our country from the kind of catastrophic attacks we saw on that terrible day, became my mission. I knew that my work, alongside so many dedicated colleagues in the legal profession and other disciplines, was vital to preventing another tragedy like 9/11. We were working to keep this nation safe, to ensure that no other families would have to experience the horror and loss that so many did on that day.
This is why the meme about Mark Bingham bothered me so much. Yes, Mark was a hero—there is no question about that. But his heroism had nothing to do with his sexual orientation. It wasn’t because he was gay that he acted so bravely on Flight 93. He did what he did because he was a person who cared, who had the courage to act in a moment of absolute crisis. By focusing on his identity, the meme misses the point entirely. It reduces his bravery to a political statement, and that diminishes the magnitude of what he truly did.
I understand that marginalized groups, including the LGBTQ+ community, want to see themselves represented in stories of strength and heroism. Representation matters, of course. But this shouldn’t come at the cost of reducing people to labels. Mark Bingham didn’t save lives on 9/11 because he was gay—he did it because he was a courageous, selfless human being. His sexual orientation had no bearing on the heroism he showed that day. If he had been straight, would we talk about him any differently? I would hope not.
I think about this in broader terms, too. We see the same pattern when it comes to race, and it frustrates me just as much. Would we say « the Black man who saved the Capitol » if the hero in question happened to be Black? I hope we wouldn’t. We should be honoring people for their actions, not for their race, gender, or sexual orientation. These labels divide us, and they distract from what really matters: the humanity that connects us all.
Mark Bingham didn’t stop and think to himself, “I’m gay, therefore I need to save the Capitol.” No. He acted because he had the ability to do something, because he cared enough to put himself in harm’s way. That’s how he should be remembered. As a human being who stepped up in a moment of chaos and crisis, and who made the ultimate sacrifice.
If the LGBTQ+ community, or any marginalized group for that matter, truly wants to be treated as equals, the first step is to stop using these labels as defining characteristics. People are more than the boxes society tries to put them in. Heroism, courage, and humanity transcend these boundaries. And frankly, there’s so much internal division within the LGBTQ+ community itself—people are often discriminated against by their own. It’s heartbreaking to see that while fighting for equality, they sometimes fall into the same traps of exclusion and labeling.
This meme, as well-intentioned as it might have been, does a disservice to Mark Bingham’s legacy. It takes his heroism and oversimplifies it by attaching a label that shouldn’t even be relevant. His actions on 9/11 were monumental not because he was gay, but because he was a person who acted with incredible bravery in a life-or-death situation. Let’s remember him for that. Let’s remember him as a hero. As a human being who showed immense courage, not as someone defined by a label.
We owe it to him, and to all the heroes of that day, to keep the focus on what truly matters: the humanity behind their actions.