SPOTLIGHT: "AINT I A WOMAN" SOJOURNER TRUTH

This month’s spotlight “Ain’t I A Woman” is on one of my favorite speech by the amazing Sojourner Truth. In 1851, she delivered such an articulate and profound moment at the Ohio’s Women’s Rights Convention, where she asserted her stamp on the equality of black women in America during that period. Her speech was so powerful and had deeply rooted impact that it became one of the most proliferate moments in the women’s liberation movement. As a prominent abolitionist and black feminist, her truth on enslavement, liberation, black women’s rights, and the salvation she cultivated through her religion garnered her audience keen’s attention and commanded the room. This speech was probably the first real attempt to call for the need to address the intersectionality of black men and women experiences in America. The deplorable conditions they were subjected to, the pain and suffering due to the hands of engrave injustices left a somber taste among the audience. This speech still resonates in the present time, given the heightened increased in racial injustice and the continual infringement of our rights. This soulful cry is impossible to adequately explain in this post.

Below is the speech…

Well, children, where there is so much racket there must be something out of kilter. I think that 'twixt the negroes of the South and the women at the North, all talking about rights, the white men 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 ain't I a woman? Look at me! Look at my arm! I have ploughed 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 most all sold off to slavery, and when I cried out with my mother's grief, none but Jesus heard me! And ain't I a woman?

Then they talk about this thing in the head; what's this they call it? [member of audience whispers, "intellect"] That's it, honey. What's that got to do with women'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?

Then that little man in black there, he says women can't have as much rights as men, 'cause Christ wasn't a woman! Where did your Christ come from? Where did your Christ come from? From God and a woman! Man had nothing to do with Him.

If the first woman God ever made was strong enough to turn the world upside down all alone, these women together ought to be able to turn it back and get it right side up again! And now they is asking to do it, the men better let them.

Obliged to you for hearing me, and now old Sojourner ain't got nothing more to say

MONTHLY SPOTLIGHT: "STILL I RISE"

In honor of women's history month, our feature poem is by the amazing Maya Angelou “STILL I RISE!”

“Still, I Rise” remains one of my favorite poems, the words in this masterpiece still carries so much deep meaning in our present time. Dr. Angelou sets the tone in amplifying the plight of black and brown marginalized communities. Speaking on our strengths, will power, and passion to continue overcoming any adversity placed on our path. One can't help but feel empowered, inspired, and equipped with strength, boldness, and courage when reading this poem.

As a black woman, “Still I Rise” rings true and reminds me to keep moving forward and looking upward, fearlessly persevering in the face of any challenges and hardship that life may present. The lesson on self-respect and confidence is the undertone of this legendary body of work. Raising our vibration and self-esteem is the ultimate key to standing in our power and authenticity regardless of our skin color and hues.

"STILL, I RISE"

You may write me down in history, with your bitter, twisted lies. You may trod me in the very dirt.

But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? ’Cause I walk like I've got oil wells

Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high,

Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? Shoulders falling down like teardrops,

Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you? Don't you take it awful hard. ’Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines

Diggin’ in my own backyard.

You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may kill me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you? Does it come as a surprise. That I dance like I've got diamonds

At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame, I rise! Up from a past that’s rooted in pain, I rise

I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide, welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear, I rise. Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear, I rise.

Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave.

I rise. I rise. I rise!

Xoxo,

@Blackgirlsnamaste