Take it from our residents, whom I give automatic respect. One working girl to another. So that before she fades from chasing the dragon inside the fluorescent submarine, for all her waking hours of the week, a survival ethic on the mean streets of medicine, might get passed from her lips as I light her cigarette.
She never once talked about her civil rights.
I once sat in huge grand rounds with all the ceremony for a visiting grand wizard to our priesthood. It was a talk on the conjuring technique of evaluating residents. The opening incantation pertaining to just how amazing the inherent powers of an experienced wizard are at divining the precise magical status of each residents in seconds using The Power of the All-Knowing Eye.
A half joking question was uttered sideways from the wizards mouth as she peered into the frightened heads of all the residents, "how many of you doubt the power of the All-Knowing Eye?" Not a peep. Or a squeak.
Doubting the power of these magical processes is resented with great ferocity by the magical presithood. If you can intervene surreptitiously at some other depersonalized point in the process you might consider it. But even that, you do at your own risk.
The main goal of being a clerk is recruiting support. I can't think of any use of being right outside of being pimped. And even with that there is ego egg shells to be skirted.