SOJOURNER TRUTH

[1797–1883]

Ain’t I a Woman?

Born Isabella Baumfree in Ulster County, New York, around 1797, Sojourner Truth, as she later renamed herself, was freed from slavery in 1827 when New York State emancipated the slaves within its borders. She renamed herself following a religious experience and began a career as a traveling preacher arguing for abolition and women’s rights. “Ain’t I a Woman?” is the title given a speech Truth delivered at a women’s rights convention in 1851 that was later transcribed and published. As you read this short, powerful, extemporaneous speech, imagine the impact it may have had on its audience. How do you think listeners reacted?

Well, children, where there is so much racket there must be something out o’ kilter. I think that ’twixt the Negroes of the South and the women of the North all a-talking about rights, the white man will be in a fix pretty soon.

But what’s all this here talking about? That man over there says that women need to be helped into carriages, and lifted over ditches, and to have the best place everywhere. Nobody ever helps me into carriages, or over mud puddles or gives me any best place (and raising herself to her full height and her voice to a pitch like rolling thunder, she asked), and ain’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 plowed, and planted, and gathered into barns, and no man could head me—and ain’t I a woman? I could work as much and eat as much as a man (when I could get it), and bear the lash as well—and ain’t I a woman? I have borne thirteen children and seen them almost all sold off into slavery, and when I cried out with a mother’s grief, none but Jesus heard—and ain’t I a woman? Then they talk about this thing in the head—what’s this they call it? (“Intellect,” whispered someone near.) That’s it honey. What’s that got to do with woman’s rights or Negroes’ rights? If my cup won’t hold but a pint and yours holds a quart, wouldn’t you 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.)

Then that little man in black there, he says women can’t have as much rights as man, ’cause Christ wasn’t a woman. Where did your Christ come from? (Rolling thunder could not have stilled that crowd as did those deep, wonderful tones, as she stood there with outstretched arms and eye of fire. Raising her voice still louder, she repeated.) Where did your Christ come from? From God and a woman. Man had nothing to do with him. (Oh! what a rebuke she gave the little man.)

(Turning again to another objector, she took up the defence of mother Eve. I cannot follower [sic] her through it all. It was pointed, and witty, and solemn, eliciting at almost every sentence deafening applause; and she ended [sic] by asserting that.) If the first woman God ever made was strong enough to turn the world upside down, all alone, these together (and she glanced her eye over us), ought to be able to turn it back and get it right side up again; and now they are asking to do it, the men better let them. (Long-continued cheering.)

’Bliged to you for hearing on me, and now old Sojourner hasn’t got anything more to say.