The next morning, Sojourner went to the church long before the others. The sun had not even risen yet when she arrived. She sat herself down on the steps of the pulpit and talked to God, “Lord, why did you bring me here? These people don’t want to be hearin’ from this old negro woman… they sooner see me hangin’ from that tree out there than be standin’ up here talkin’ to them.” She sat there for nearly an hour, thinking, praying, and wondering. When the other ladies started arriving, she greeted them kindly but stayed down on her steps. When Mrs. Gage, the meeting organizer arrived, Sojourner asked her if she could speak about women’s education. The subject was slated to be discussed around nine that morning. Mrs. Gage was a little taken back and inadvertently agreed. That morning, the church was overwhelmed with pastors. They were dressed in the cloth and had their Bibles in hand. It looked like they were prepared to have a religious debate on whether women should have equal rights. Sojourner said to herself, “Lord, Thank you. Now I knows why I am here.” This was Sojourner’s expertise.
That morning, the Rev. George Scholler opened with a sermon at nine. He was immediately followed by a reverend from the audience who said, “If God had desired the equality of woman, he would have given some token of his will through the birth, life, and death of the Savior Jesus.”
Another jumped in preaching about Eve and the original sin. “God would have vengeance on them all if they tried going against God’s will.”
The meeting was quickly getting out of hand, and Mrs. Gage calmed the crowd and introduced Mrs. Coe, who made a long thought-out speech comparing the rights of a wife and husband to that of slave and master. The speech was met with a host of hoots and hollers from the crowd, and she was disrupted a good many times.
Mrs. Coe concluded her speech with, “Nor can I perceive how any person living under a Democratic form of Government and professing to be imbued with Democratic principles can arrive at any other conclusion than that the education of women should be fully equal, if not a little superior to that of men.”
The crowd booed, and she was met with a host of crowd speeches. One claimed it was a waste to educate women, they just don’t have the intellect in their head, and he compared it to trying to educate a negro, “Just a waste of time.”
Another more gentlemanly man spoke out, “It is not in a woman’s nature to make decisions, she is to be cared for by her husband. To be helped into the carriage or lifted across the puddle in the street as not to get her shoes dirty or concern herself with the hard laboring tasks of men. Women are just not our equal in body or mind. They are just frail creatures.”
Hearing this, Sojourner stood from her parked position on the steps. She walked onto the pulpit and up to the lectern, removed her bonnet and turban and tossed it to the floor at her feet. She turned to Mrs. Gage and quietly asked, “May I speak?”
Mrs. Gage stood for a moment as the crowd of young boys hissed and yelled out, “Get that old woman off the stage!” Many of her own committee members called out, “Don’t let her speak!” Mrs. Gage looked toward the committee, then out at the hostile gallery. This was a women’s-rights convention, yet some of the very women asking to be heard were asking her to silence the black woman standing beside them. For several long seconds, she said nothing.
Sojourner looked at her again and said quietly, “It’s alright chil’.”
Mrs. Gage looked back at Sojourner, took a breath, then stood and walked to the lectern. She raised her hand until the room quieted enough to hear her. “Ms. Sojourner Truth would like to say a few words.” The boys in the gallery hissed again, acting as though what glorious fun this would be heckling her.
Sojourner started, “Listen to all you hissin’ like that… you all be sound like a snake… this is the House of God and you be actin’ like some devil snake. What your momma’s be sayin’ she see you actin’ all foolish like this in church? I knows what she be doin’—draggin’ you out back to give you a good switchin’.” A few in the crowd laughed and the boys quieted some. Sojourner waited, then continued in her deep motherly tone, “Well, chil’ren, where there is so much racket there must be somethin’ out of kilter. I met a young slave woman not so long ago and she looked me in the face as her two chil’ren clung to her side and she asked me, ‘Ain’t I a woman?’ I be thinkin’ of course she is, and so am I. Now I ain’t here to be talkin’ about slavery. I is here to be talkin’ ‘bout the women’s rights.”
“But what’s all this here talkin’ ‘bout that be havin’ nothin’ to do with women’s rights?”
“That man over there say women needs to be helped into carriages, lifted over ditches, and to have the best place everywhere… nobody ever helped me into carriages, or over mud puddles, or gives me any best place… huh!” Sojourner rolled her sleeve and flexed her arm. “Look at my arm! I can carry that li’l man over the mud puddles. I have plowed, and planted, and gathered into barns, and no man could head me. I can work as much as a man and eat as much as a man… when I can get it. I likes to eat.” Laughter rippled through the room. “Some women be frail. Some mens be frail too. That don’t be tellin’ me who gets rights.” She rolled her sleeve down.
“Then what’s that thing the other man was talkin’ about? The thing in the head,” she asked, pointing to her own head. “What he call that?”
“Intellect,” whispered someone near.
“That’s it, chil’… intellect. 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 li’l half-measure full?” She pointed toward the man who had spoken earlier. “You be greedy tryin’ to have all the intellect for you self. I just want my li’l pint.”
A ripple of claps and laughter moved through the room.
A man called from the crowd, “That still don’t make women equal!”
Sojourner turned toward the voice. “I ain’t askin’ you to make me nothin’. God done that. I just askin’ you not to keep what little cup you say I got empty.”
The room quieted again.
“Now is you tellin’ me you never meet no dumb man? I knows you have. I could pick me out two or three here right now, and you could too. Yet you be givin’ those dumb mens the rights. Why not the womens?”
“And that li’l man in black there, he say women can’t have as much rights as man ‘cause Christ wasn’t a woman. Jesus, he be the Christ, the son of God. Where did you think Christ come from?”
The crowd grew still. Sojourner raised her voice. “Where did Christ come from? I tells you—from God and a woman. Man, he ain’t had nothin’ to do with it. A woman is Jesus’ momma!” Laughter broke through the room, but several of the pastors remained stone-faced.
“And that other man say Eve be the reason. Well, Adam eat that fruit too. They both sinned. And what you preachers be tellin’ everyone every Sunday? Jesus died for our sins. Not just man’s sins—woman’s sins too. If God be willin’ to forgive the woman, why the man not be willin’? Does he think he better than God?”
“No, I think the man just confused and li’l scared.”
“But you don’t have to be scared, chil’ren. The womans be your partner. God makes us so we be with you and helpin’ you. We ain’t gonna be doin’ you no wrong.”
“Let us learn. Let us have our li’l bit of intellect. Eve be strong woman who turned this whole worl’ upside down. Think what all the womens can do if they allowed. Surely, we can turn it right side up again.”
Sojourner looked across the room, including the pastors who had come prepared to argue against her. “Help us.”
“Bless you for hearin’ me. Now Sojourner ain’t got nothin’ more to say.” She walked back to her steps and retook her position. For a heartbeat the room stayed still. Then several in the crowd stood in applause, and others slowly joined them.