Bless me, Goddess, for I have sinned.

I must confess that when the Armando outing happened, my dark side took a brief, self-righteous moment to revel in the delicious irony of it all.

“Hah!” the evil one thought. “Take that patriarchal Kossian power structure!” It was indeed ironic to watch the passion the outing inspired. Those who were willing to toss other people’s rights on the ash heap of political expediency were OUTRAGED when their rights were abrogated. It was ironic. (Never mind that forced birth and voluntary blogging are not exactly equivalent.) But it was not cause for celebration.
Then, of course, there was the blatant elitism that raised its ugly head and fed the evil genie inside me.  Armando is an ATTORNEY! He had important work to do. He’s been professionally castrated – or words to that effect.  Of course, any poor slob who has tried, under the radar, to organize a Wal-Mart, or even a Whole Foods, knows about professional castration and outing. Then, of course, there are those lowly entertainers, like the Dixie Chicks, who suffered abuse and professional loss due to their speaking their minds in public.

Actually, I kind of hope Armando becomes the Natalie Maynes of attorneys and that after whatever set backs he suffers, he comes roaring back to some great success. But I’m not ready to give him some special place in the pantheon of social activism because he is an attorney.

So there it is; the dark side of Kahli revealed.

Fortunately, another voice started making itself heard in my thoughts.  This voice asked how I could take any pleasure in deliberately-inflicted suffering.

What, I thought, if this could become a moment when we “progressives” could actually develop empathy for one another? What if this incident made us really feel, not just “know” that an injury to one is an injury to all? What if we could agree that, despite our differing priorities, no one’s rights are negotiable?  What power we would have if feminists stood up for immigrants, and immigrants struggled side-by-side with gays. What power we would have if gays fought tooth and nail for laborers, and laborers protected internet activists. And if they in turn fought for people of color, and so on and so on. Is it even within the realm of possibility that this ugly incident could bind us together and help us grow in strength?

What if we ALL resist when ANYONE’S rights are threatened?

Which brings me to the second question in the title of this diary, “What cost?”

If we are serious about social change we must acknowledge that there will be a cost.  To deny this is magical thinking.

Each of us must take serious stock of what we are willing to sacrifice.

Activists throughout history have been injured, fired, slandered, jailed, or killed. There have been people of undaunted courage who have sacrificed much to the benefit of the rest of us.

Most of us have no desire to become martyrs.  I know that I don’t. But we have to realize that those with entrenched power and privilege are unlikely to give any of it away without a struggle.

What is each of us willing to do? Are willing to risk embarrassment or ridicule? Are we willing to go to jail? Are we willing to leave our comfort zone? Donate time? Money? Are we willing to lose our jobs or professional standing? These are questions that we must each ask, and the answers will be different for each of us depending on our responsibilities and our resources – emotional and financial.

Whose rights?  All of ours.

What cost? At great cost – and we must all contribute.

Kahli = Fran Martone