Women -- Suffrage -- History; Women -- Suffrage -- United States -- History; Women's rights -- History; Women's rights -- United States -- History
There were very few women in those days who dared to "speak in
meeting"; and the august teachers of the people were seemingly
getting the better of us, while the boys in the galleries, and
the sneerers among the pews, were hugely enjoying the
discomfiture, as they supposed, of the "strong-minded." Some of
the tender-skinned friends were on the point of losing dignity,
and the atmosphere betokened a storm. When, slowly from her seat
in the corner rose Sojourner Truth, who, till now, had scarcely
lifted her head. "Don't let her speak!" gasped half a dozen in my
ear. She moved slowly and solemnly to the front, laid her old
bonnet at her feet, and turned her great speaking eyes to me.
There was a hissing sound of disapprobation above and below. I
rose and announced "Sojourner Truth," and begged the audience to
keep silence for a few moments.
The tumult subsided at once, and every eye was fixed on this
almost Amazon form, which stood nearly six feet high, head erect,
and eyes piercing the upper air like one in a dream. At her first
word there was a profound hush. She spoke in deep tones, which,
though not loud, reached every ear in the house, and away through
the throng at the doors and windows.
"Wall, chilern, whar dar is so much racket dar must be somethin'
out o' kilter. I tink dat 'twixt de niggers of de Souf and de
womin at de Norf, all talkin' 'bout rights, de white men will be
in a fix pretty soon. But what's all dis here talkin' 'bout?
"Dat man ober dar say dat womin needs to be helped into
carriages, and lifted ober ditches, and to hab de best place
everywhar. Nobody eber helps me into carriages, or ober
mud-puddles, or gibs me any best place!" And raising herself to
her full height, and her voice to a pitch like rolling thunder,
she asked. "And a'n't I a woman? Look at me! Look at my arm! (and
she bared her right arm to the shoulder, showing her tremendous
muscular power). I have ploughed, and planted, and gathered into
barns, and no man could head me! And a'n't I a woman? I could
work as much and eat as much as a man--when I could get it--and
bear de lash as well! And a'n't, I a woman? I have borne thirteen
chilern, and seen 'em mos' all sold off to slavery, and when I
cried out with my mother's grief, none but Jesus heard me! And
a'n't I a woman?
"Den dey talks 'bout dis ting in de head; what dis dey call it?"
("Intellect," whispered some one near.) "Dat's it, honey. What's
dat got to do wid womin's rights or nigger's rights? If my cup
won't hold but a pint, and yourn holds a quart, wouldn't ye be
mean not to let me have my little half-measure full?" And she
pointed her significant finger, and sent a keen glance at the
minister who had made the argument. The cheering was long and
loud.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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