Via The Advocate
On the otherwise ordinary summer morning of December 15, 2014, an unprecedented terror gripped Sydney. In the heart of the city’s business district, an unhinged Islamic radical named Man Haron Monis strode into a Lindt chocolate cafe with a sawed-off shotgun, took 18 people hostage, and began an anguishing 16-hour standoff. Australian police forces stormed the cafe in the early hours of the next day, but by then the cafe’s manager, Tori Johnson, had been killed.
Because of an ongoing investigation, there are no formal accounts of exactly what transpired in the tense lead-up to the tragedy’s climax, but unconfirmed media reports indicate that Johnson was killed after attempting to wrestle the gunman for control of the weapon. In the final blitz, another hostage, a barrister named Katrina Dawson, was killed in the hailstorm of bullets. It was quickly reported that she was married with three young children, and that Johnson had a “partner” of 14 years. Then we waited, or at least I did, to find out whether his long-term partner was a man.
A hero is just like everyone else, only better. Australia would celebrate Johnson as a national hero if he were made of straw. He’s a hero, period. In his final hours, the only exceptional thing about him was his humanity, and some argued that to bring his sexual orientation into it is irrelevant and, furthermore, disrespectful to his memory. Johnson’s gayness may be incidental to his bravery, but it is relevant. It matters that the hero was gay in the same way it would matter if the villain were a gunwoman. It thwarts perceptions. Heroes are always presumed heterosexual. That’s why you’ve never heard the term “straight hero.”
Courage of the hero variety is typically thought of in terms of daring rescues from burning buildings or badass military might. Its ideal is deeply entrenched in straight, macho behavior — so much so that if you search online for “gay courage,” the first result is Courage International, a Catholic group preaching celibacy to gay men with therapy that includes playing football and smoking cigars. Appropriating the word, the group seeks to confirm that a loud, proud homosexual is not courageous, but a coward who will never live up to his potential. His manliness has been called into question, and by extension, even his humanity is corrupt.
In a life-or-death crisis, the stereotype of the gay man is of a person nowhere near the proverbial action; he might be valued for a cuddle or comic relief, but is not relied upon to save the day. Nor is he expected to face an attacker or grab for the gun. Conventional wisdom would have the gay barista hiding beneath the counter or slinking out a side door to safety. Gay men are often not expected to be the type to jump on the grenade to save their fellow comrades. Yet that has happened time and time again.
CLICK HERE for the full article in the Advocate!
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