Welcome back to the Deep Dive. We take a monumental
figure from American history, crack open the
archives and really give you a thorough, detailed
understanding of their true journey. And today
we are undertaking a deep dive into an activist
whose life was a physical and spiritual bridge,
a bridge between the brutality of northern slavery
and the, you know, promise of civil rights. We're
talking about Sujinder Truth. Exactly. But our
mission today is, well, it's ambitious. Because
the figure the world thinks it knows, Sojourner
Truth, the author of Eight -Eyed Woman, is largely
a historical distortion. We're going back to
the beginning, to Isabella Bonefree, tracing
her path from an enslaved child in New York to
this pivotal national figure who championed,
I mean, Abolition, women's rights, temperance.
OK, let's unpack this immediately because her
biography right off the bat, it just dismantles
this standard mental image most people have of
a 19th century formerly enslaved person and activist.
It absolutely does. I mean, we have two just
astonishing facts that radically reshape her
origin story. Absolutely. When most people envision
19th century slavery in the U .S., they're thinking
of the Deep South, right? Cotton plantations,
spirituals. Of course. But Isabella Bonfrey was
born into slavery in New York State around 1797,
specifically in the Hudson Valley, which is an
area with a long, profitable history of chattel
slavery that, you know, it often gets overlooked.
This was the North, but it was far from free.
Far from it. And the geography is crucial, but
the linguistic reality is maybe... even more
startling. Her first language wasn't English.
It was Dutch. Dutch. It's wild to think about.
That's correct. She was born on the Colonel Hardenberg
estate in Swartkill, and she was raised speaking
the low Dutch that was common among the landowners
and, well, the local populace in that part of
New York. The sources are clear on this. Oh,
definitive. Right. She spoke with a pronounced
Dutch accent for the rest of her life. And this
detail, it's not just biographical trivia. It's
fundamental to understanding the whole controversy
around her most famous speech, which we'll get
into later. It means the iconic voice we think
we hear is fundamentally wrong. That reality,
the language, coupled with her birth in New York,
it instantly forces you to recognize how unique
she was. She just defied all the expectations
placed on enslaved people at the time. Exactly.
And her biographer, Nell Irvin Painter, she summed
up this intersection. struggle just perfectly.
And it's really our guiding mission for this
deep dive. She said at a time when most Americans
thought of slaves as male and women as white,
truth embodied a fact that still bears repeating.
Among the blacks are women. Among the women,
there are blacks. She was literally fighting
on multiple fronts before we even had the words
for it, like intersectionality. And before we
dive into her. her brutal early life, we have
to preview this one fact. It just demonstrates
her relentless tenacity in this profound belief
in justice. Yes. In 1828, Isabella Bonefree became
the first black woman to successfully sue a white
man in a U .S. court and win the case. And win.
This is before she sojourned her truth. This
proves she was an extraordinary legal and political
combatant from the absolute beginning. So let's
anchor ourselves there. In her beginnings. Let's
focus first on the geography and the reality
of what slavery looked like in New York State.
Right. So Isabella was born around 1797 to James
and Elizabeth Bonefree. Her father was captured
in what is now Ghana, and her mother was from
the area of Guinea. They were owned by Colonel
Johannes Hardenberg. And the North system of
slavery, it was different from the South's, but
that doesn't mean it was better. Not at all.
It was no less devastating. New York City, for
example, had one of the largest enslaved populations
north of the Mason -Dixon line. It was focused
more on, say, agricultural work in the Hudson
Valley and domestic service in the city. And
for her, the trauma of family separation, that
started almost immediately. It did. She was one
of maybe 10 or 12 children. And when she was
still an infant, her five -year -old brother
and three -year -old sister were sold away. That's
just a foundational trauma. Absolutely. Her mother,
Elizabeth, tried to provide some kind of solace
by teaching her children to pray, telling them
that God was in the sky, watching over them,
and that they had to always try to be good. These
spiritual lessons were, you know, perhaps the
only enduring positive influence of her entire
childhood. Then at age nine, in 1806, the violence
of the marketplace takes hold. Could you walk
us through that rapid succession of sales that
really characterized her youth? It's a rapid,
terrifying sequence of transactions that just
highlights her powerlessness. At nine, she sold
at an auction with a flock of sheep. With sheep.
For $100 to a man named John Neely near Kingston.
And you have to imagine the immediate psychological
shock. She's suddenly owned by a man whose language,
English, she can't understand at all. So her
first English -speaking owner was also her first...
violently cruel owner that's right she later
recounted how neely beat her daily just using
whatever was at hand including a bundle of rods
she was physically isolated by language and abused
because she just couldn't follow instructions
given in english so this inability to communicate
just exposed her to the worst forms of violence
immediately And that sale, it only lasted about
18 months, which just speaks to the instability
and, frankly, the disposable nature of her status.
And then the sales just continued. They did.
Neely sold her to Mark Tina Shriver for $105,
and then Shriver sold her to John Dumont in West
Park, New York, in 1810. And it was under Dumont
that her life was marked by this immense, enduring
personal trauma. Yes. John Dumont owned her for
18 years. It was the longest period she spent
with any single enslaver. And those years were
just horrific. There was constant friction with
Dumont's wife, Elizabeth, who was very jealous
and critical of Isabella's work. But the deepest
scars, they were the forbidden love and the sexual
violence. Let's discuss the story of Robert,
because it really reviews the absolute destructive
power of the property system. So Isabella fell
deeply in love with a man named Robert, who was
enslaved on a neighboring farm. Now, crucially,
Robert's owner did not want Robert to father
children with someone he didn't own. Because
that would be creating property for another man.
Exactly. So when Robert snuck over to see Isabella,
his owner and his son caught him and just brutally
beat him. Isabella watched the savage attack
and she never saw Robert again. My God. He died
a few years later. She said this loss and the
trauma from it, it haunted her entire life. It's
just a perfect illustration of how slavery targeted
the most fundamental human right to love and
build a family. And compounding that heartbreak
was the horrific reality of repeated rape by
her owner, John Dewan. Yes, the sources are very
clear on this trauma. Her daughter Diana, who
was born in 1815, was the result of that violence.
She did later marry an enslaved man named Thomas,
and with him she had three other children who
survived. Peter, Elizabeth, and Sophia. But her
body was never her own. Her family structure
was defined by the economic and violent demands
of the slave system. Now, the path to legal freedom
in New York wasn't a clean break. It was a phased,
sort of confusing process. How did New York's
gradual emancipation framework lead up to her
decision to finally leave? So New York passed
this gradual abolition law in 1799, but it was
really designed to protect the economic interests
of slaveholders. It stipulated that all enslaved
people would finally be freed on July 4th, 1827.
Okay. Now, Dumont had promised Isabella freedom
a year early as a reward for her service, but
only if she produced 100 pounds of wool for him.
She did the work, but then she sustained a hand
injury. And he used that as an excuse. He reneged.
He claimed the injury made her service incomplete
and just kept her enslaved longer. So she had
fulfilled her end of the bargain, but the promise
was broken. What was the exact moment and, I
guess, the philosophy of her escape in 1826?
Late in 1826, she made a moral decision. She
walked away. She didn't view herself as a criminal
or a fugitive, which is so crucial to her later
self -image. She took her infant daughter, Sophia,
and later explained her dignified acts, saying,
I did not run off, but I walked off, believing
that to be all right. She claimed her moral freedom,
but the law still entangled her. She had to leave
her older children behind. Why was that? Under
those gradual emancipation laws, children born
enslaved after 1799 were technically freed, but
they were required to serve as bound servants.
It was a form of indentured servitude. Until
their late 20s. So her older children were still
legally bound to Dumont. Exactly. Which meant
she literally had to abandon them to save herself
and her infant daughter. That choice must have
been just excruciating. But it immediately fueled
her next move of fight to reclaim what was stolen
from her. It did. She found refuge with Isaac
and Maria Van Wagenen, who are a Quaker family
and sympathetic to the abolitionist cause. They
offered to pay Dumont $20 for her services for
the remaining year until full emancipation, just
to ensure her safe passage. And it was under
their protection that she learned a really devastating
piece of news. Which was the illegal sale of
her five -year -old son, Peter. Yes. Dumont had
illegally sold Peter, who was not yet legally
free under New York law, out of state, first
to a buyer in New York, and then eventually Peter
was... resold to a man named Solomon Gedney in
Alabama. And selling an enslaved person out of
state before that 1827 deadline, that was a violation
of New York's law. A direct violation. And for
a Black woman in 1828 to successfully challenge
a white man in the New York Supreme Court? I
mean, how radical was that victory? What specific
legal framework even allowed her to bring the
case? It seems almost impossible. It was almost
unprecedented. We have to understand the justice
system was fundamentally designed to protect
white property rights, not the rights of a formerly
enslaved black mother. What allowed her to proceed
was the assistance of the Van Wagenen family.
They lent their name and legal advice and a specific
violation of that 1817 New York law about selling
minors out of state. So it wasn't a general fight
for abolition. It was a specific technical challenge
to an illegal act. Precisely. She was relying
on the law, flawed as it was, to protect a child
who was legally a ward of the state until 1827.
So using the name Isabella Van Wagenen, she filed
suit. And it must have been a long, difficult
process. The case was protracted and required
just immense courage on her part. She faced down
Solomon Gedney, a powerful white man, in court.
But in 1828, she won. The court ruled in her
favor and Peter was recovered and returned to
New York. But not without scars, I'd imagine.
No. Sources note he arrived traumatized and physically
abused from his time in Alabama. That victory
though. The recovery of her son, it's just monumental.
It underscores this tenacious core of her character
and her early mastery of navigating a hostile
system. It's critical. And the rediscovery and
analysis of those court documents, especially
around 2022, they only solidify her status as
one of the very first African -American women
to successfully use the white legal system against
a white man. It confirms that the fight for justice
was like literally in her DNA decades before
she became a national celebrity. Right. That
tenacity carried Isabella through the 1830s in
New York City, where she's searching for spiritual
guidance for community. She even briefly got
involved in some controversial religious groups
like the Prophet Matthias sect. But all of that
culminated in this dramatic prophetic transformation
in 1843. The change was sudden and it was absolute.
On Pentecost Sunday, June 1st, 1843. Isabella
Bonefree changed her name to Sojourner Truth.
Sojourner Truth. She felt she had received a
divine commandment to travel, to leave the city
and go into the countryside, testifying to the
hope that was in her. And the name itself, it
speaks volumes about her new identity, doesn't
it? It does. Sojourner means a temporary resident,
a traveler, which reflected her new life as an
itinerant preacher, just constantly moving and
testifying. And Truth reflected the message she
felt called to deliver about God. humanity so
she just left she literally took almost nothing
just a small bundle of clothing in a pillowcase
and began walking heading north and east toward
massachusetts she was no longer a formerly enslaved
domestic worker she was a public intellectual
and a prophet and as she began her ministry what
religious communities was she engaging with how
did she find her public voice Initially, she
fell in with the Millerite Aventus camp meetings.
The Millerites followed the teachings of William
Miller, who had predicted the second coming of
Christ would happen in 1843 and 1844. Oh, right.
And her powerful speaking, combined with her
beautiful deep voice and powerful singing, it
drew huge crowds within these meetings. But when
that prophecy failed, the great disappointment
as it's known. She maintained her faith, but
she distanced herself from the core Millerite
movement. Exactly. She kept her deep spirituality,
but moved away from specific failed predictions.
And this search for community and purpose led
her in 1844 to a really crucial intellectual
hub, the Northampton Association of Education
and Industry in Florence, Massachusetts. This
was a utopian community. Can you give us a sense
of what the Northampton Association stood for?
It was remarkable for its time. It was founded
by staunch abolitionists, and it was a communitarian
experiment built on principles of equality. It
promoted women's rights, religious tolerance,
and absolute pacifism. So they tried to create
this self -sustaining environment where everyone,
black and white, men and women, shared labor
and shared education. That was the goal. And
it was the perfect intellectual furnace for Sojourner
Truth. It was her launchpad. What did she do
there? She worked. She oversaw the laundry. But
most importantly, she met engaged with some of
the greatest minds of the abolitionist movement
who were either members or frequent visitors.
She met William Lloyd Garrison, the editor of
The Liberator. Of course. Frederick Douglass,
the great orator. David Ruggles. It was while
living in this radically abolitionist pro -women's
rights environment that she delivered her first
formal anti -slavery speeches. Now, since she
was illiterate. She couldn't read or write. How
did the story of Isabella Bonfrey, the northern
slave, reach the broader public? Her lack of
literacy never hindered her ability to communicate
her story. While she was living in Florence,
she dictated her life story to her friend, Olive
Gilbert. And this resulted in the publication
of The Narrative of Sojourner Truth, a northern
slave in 1850. And the fact that William Lloyd
Garrison himself privately published it. That
speaks volumes about how influential her story
was becoming in those circles. Absolutely. The
memoir, along with her reputation as a preacher,
it established her fame. But she also had this
really revolutionary entrepreneurial strategy
for funding her relentless activism. Right. She
was a masterful self -promoter. She really understood
the nascent power of media and branding. At that
time, photography was a novelty. And these mass
produced small photos called carte de visite.
were becoming popular. They were basically collectible
calling cards. And she sold these to support
her work. She sold these portraits to support
her travels and her speaking engagements. And
the caption on those cards is one of the most
memorable quotes of her life. I sell the shadow
to support the substance. What does that tell
us about her view of her own public image? It's
a genius statement. It demonstrates her self
-awareness and, frankly, her entrepreneurial
sophistication. The shadow is the image, right?
The public spectacle, the photo she sells. The
substance is the actual tangible work of abolition,
temperance, women's rights, the work that the
money funds. So she understood her image had
currency. And she used that currency to fund
her true spiritual and political mission. She
was monetizing her celebrity to ensure her independence.
That move really solidified her ability to remain
an independent voice, and it set the stage for
her full engagement in the women's rights movement.
In 1850, the same year her narrative was published,
she delivered a speech at the first National
Women's Rights Convention in Worcester, Massachusetts,
and that just fully launched her onto the national
platform. Okay, so now we arrive at the pivotal
moment, the one that defines her legacy, yet
is just shrouded in historical conflict. We're
talking about the extemporaneous address she
gave at the Ohio Women's Rights Convention in
Akron in May of 1851. Yes. The speech that would
later become known as Ain't I a Woman. And this
is maybe the most crucial segment of our deep
dive because it illustrates how historical figures,
especially black women, have had their voices
filtered, edited and even fictionalized by white
allies to fit a specific narrative. It's a perfect
case study. Truth delivered the speech, combining
the fight for abolition with the demand for women's
rights. And she powerfully drew on her strength
as a lifelong laborer. So we have to analyze
the two profoundly different versions of this
speech because they tell two distinct stories
about Sojourner Truth and American history. Let's
start with version A, which is what we accept
as the closest contemporary account. Right. Version
A was recorded and published just a month after
the event by Reverend Marius Robinson, who was
the editor of the anti -slavery bugle. He was
in the audience. And this version is what historians
widely accept as the most accurate representation
of the content and the delivery. So what were
the main arguments she deployed according to
that 1851 account? Okay, so first she focused
on physical equality and capability. She directly
challenged this idea of female fragility by stating
her own experience. She said, She's taking her
claim to rights based on her undeniable capacity
for labor. Exactly. The second argument was intellectual,
the famous pint and court analogy. Right. She
addressed the condescending arguments that women
were intellectually inferior. She challenged
the men by saying, And a man of court, why can't
she have her little pint full? It's such a beautifully
concise, logical argument. It is. She goes on,
you need not be afraid to give us our rights
for fear we will take too much, for we can't
take more than our pint will hold. It's just
a perfect argument for full potentiality. And
third. She used powerful theological arguments
to counter the male clergy who were using the
Bible to keep women subservient. Oh, she masterfully
turned their scripture right back against them.
She referred to Eve and the role of women in
sin. And then she pivoted to the birth of Jesus,
she asked. And how came Jesus into the world?
Through God who created him and the woman who
bore him. Man, where was your part? I mean, that
rhetorical mastery just quieted the religious
opposition. Completely. Now, here is the factual
core that contradicts the legend, the 1851 Robinson
version. It did not include the repeating question,
ain't I a woman? That's the pivotal historical
truth. Right. Robinson's account confirms that
her delivery was that of an articulate, powerful,
Dutch -accented orator from New York. And furthermore,
contemporary reports suggest the atmosphere at
the convention was largely respectful and supportive,
which contradicts later claims that she was facing
widespread hostility. So where did the legend
come from? Let's turn to Version B, the popularized
account. Version B was published 12 years later,
in 1863, by Frances Dana Barker Gage, who had
chaired the convention. This version became the
standard text because it was published during
the Civil War, and it circulated widely in newspapers
and magazines that were looking for these poignant
narratives of Northern abolitionism. So what
was the most significant editorial choice Gage
made in her 1863 version? Gage completely rewrote
the speech in a heavy, stereotypical Southern
Black dialect. She used phrases like... Dis child,
and where was your part? She applied a linguistic
filter that Sojourner Truth, the Dutch -speaking
New Yorker, never possessed. And this was the
mechanism by which it became the rhythmic, repeated
question, ain't I a woman? Exactly. Gage included
that question four times. This editorial choice
is so crucial. Why did Gage feel the need to
apply this southern dialect to a northern woman?
While historical analysis suggests that Gage
was, either consciously or subconsciously, making
truth a more effective, more recognizable symbol
for the Civil War era, the narrative power of
the oppressed, dialect -speaking slave from the
South was at its absolute height. So she was
shaping truth into a more useful icon for the
cause. It seems so. By stylizing Truth's voice
and exaggerating her suffering, Gage claimed
Truth had 13 children sold away when the record
chose five, with only one sold and later recovered.
Gage amplified the emotional resonance for a
white audience. But at the same time, she completely
obscured Truth's actual background as this sophisticated
northern litigant and preacher. So, the version
that gave the speech its iconic title and rhythm.
Also completely erased her authentic voice and
experience. Exactly. It raises a fascinating
question about mediation. You know, did Gage
help elevate the message of the speech at the
expense of the truth of the speaker? Scholar
Angela Davis pointed out that this incident highlights
how even well -meaning white allies struggled
to grant black women full autonomy over their
own representation. They wanted the symbol. more
than the reality they wanted the symbol of the
suffering southern slave more than the reality
of the articulate northern activist it's just
a profound thought that the most recognizable
version of her voice is in fact a fictionalization
it's rooted not in her dutch new york accent
but in a racial stereotype this makes the true
content the analysis of labor intellect and theology
in robinson's 1851 text even more powerful because
that represents her authentic intellectual contribution.
And following that Akron speech, Sojourner Truth
continued her relentless campaign for another
three decades, just demonstrating incredible
resilience all across the country from 1851 to
1861. She was constantly on the road, often traveling
with Reverend Marius Robinson, selling her narrative
and her carte de visite. And she didn't shy away
from confrontation. It seems like she almost
thrived on turning hostile audiences around.
Her response to hostility was legendary. In 1853,
she spoke at a suffragist mob convention in New
York City. The crowd was incredibly hostile,
greeting her with hissing and groaning. And what
did she do? She famously stood firm and just
used their energy against them, saying, you may
his as much as you please, but women will get
their rights anyway. You can't stop us neither.
Her confidence was just unshakable. And she had
a secondary weapon in her arsenal, distinct from
her powerful spoken sermons, her music. Music
was integral to her identity as an itinerant
preacher. She often used it to calm a crowd or
to center herself before speech. In Boston in
the 1840s, she was nervous about following the
great orator Wendell Phillips. That's understandable.
So to quiet the hall, she sang one of her own
compositions, I Am Pleading for My People, which
was set to the tune of Auld Lang Syne. And it
worked immediately. It shifted the emotional
register of the room and allowed her to transition
into her message. She was a performer, a preacher,
and a political activist all in one person. Her
life eventually led her to Michigan. which became
her home base as the country descended into the
Civil War. Right. She settled in Battle Creek,
Michigan around 1857, joining a community of
abolitionists there. And when the Civil War broke
out, she immediately committed her energy to
the Union cause. She actively helped recruit
Black men into the Union army, emphasizing that
this was a fight for their people's future. And
this was a deeply personal effort for her. Very
personal. Her grandson, James Caldwell, enlisted
in the famous 54th Massachusetts Regiment. She
even wrote a patriotic song, The Valiant Soldiers,
for the 1st Michigan Colored Regiment. And her
dedication to the Union cause was recognized
at the highest level. She had a meeting with
President Lincoln. That's right. In October of
1864, while she was working for the National
Freedmen's Relief Association in Washington,
D .C., she was invited to and met with President
Abraham Lincoln in the White House. She presented
him with her book and he signed her autograph
album. That meeting, it just visually symbolizes
the immense distance she traveled from being
chattel property in New York to advising the
president of the United States on reconstruction
policy. it's incredible and following the war
her activism shifted from grand speeches to specific
tangible, local action, specifically targeting
racial segregation. Tell us about that. Yes.
1865 in D .C. was a critical moment for direct
action. While she was working at the Freedmen's
Hospital, she began riding streetcars. Now, Washington's
streetcars were segregated, but she, along with
other activists, would just ride them and force
the issue. If she was denied entry or thrown
off, she would immediately protest and demand
the conductor's name. So she was one of the key
figures using direct civil disobedience to force
the desegregation of D .C.'s public transportation
system. A full century before the civil rights
movement formalized those same tactics. Then
we see her turn her focus to the economic future
of the newly freed population, tackling that
famous promise of 40 acres and a mule. This was
the land campaign. This campaign really demonstrates
her forward -thinking understanding that political
freedom without economic power is, well, it's
incomplete. Starting around 1870, she campaigned
tirelessly for seven years, arguing that formerly
enslaved people should be granted federal land
out west public domain lands, where they could
build self -sufficient homes and farms and escape
reliance on government aid or their former enslavers.
Did she have specific arguments she pressed when
she was meeting with political figures like President
Grant? Oh, she was very pragmatic. She told President
Grant that freed people needed land to become
fully productive, taxpaying citizens. She argued
that they knew how to work and that giving them
land would benefit the entire country by creating
a self -reliant population rather than a dependent
one. Her philosophy was all about ensuring dignity
and self -determination through property ownership.
But that campaign, despite her meeting with Grant,
was ultimately unsuccessful. What historical
factors led to the failure to secure land grants?
The failure was just devastating, and it really
set the course for black poverty for generations.
The campaign failed primarily due to political
resistance, northern fatigue with Reconstruction,
and the immense power of southern landholders
who resisted any proposal that would transfer
wealth or dilute their labor force. So the promise
of 40 acres and a mule was never really legislated
on a national scale. Never. which meant formerly
enslaved people were left without the capital
or the land necessary to transition from bondage
to genuine economic freedom. It remains one of
the great lost opportunities of American history.
And throughout this entire period, she was simultaneously
battling for universal suffrage. Right up until
the very end. Her suffrage work culminated in
1872 when she was active in Ulysses S. Grant's
re -election campaign. She actually attempted
to vote in Battle Creek but was turned away.
Which just illustrates the hypocrisy of a system
that lauded her service but denied her the rights
of citizenship. Exactly. And she pressed the
urgency of the moment during her 1867 speech
to the American Equal Rights Association. What
was her central argument there regarding the
timing of black women's rights? She argued that
since the 15th Amendment was poised to grant
black men the right to vote, now was the absolute
non -negotiable best time to secure rights for
black women. She used a memorable analogy saying
that if the nation was fixing the carriage of
state referring to reconstruction, you shouldn't
stop halfway. And she backed this up with that
same labor argument we first heard in Akron.
She did. She explicitly connected economic contribution
to political right. She argued that women, especially
black women, paid taxes because they own property
and therefore they should vote. And then she
added that enslaved women were made to do the
hardest manual labor, like building roads, which
only reinforced her simple logic. That was her
point. She stressed that... We should keep things
going while things are stirring because she feared
that once that window of opportunity closed,
it would take decades to reopen the fight for
black women. And so did her truth's extraordinary
life of advocacy and travel. It finally concluded
in Battle Creek, Michigan. Yes. She died on November
26, 1883. She was an impressive 86 years old,
cared for by her daughters. Her funeral was a
major public event attended by nearly a thousand
people. It really marked the end of an era. and
her friend and longtime colleague, Frederick
Douglass, he offered a powerful eulogy. He did.
He recognized her unique contribution. He praised
her as venerable for age, distinguished for insight
into human nature, remarkable for independence
and courageous self -assertion, devoted to the
welfare of her race. She was, in the truest sense,
a national treasure by the time of her death.
Her legacy really is the embodiment of intersectional
justice. I mean, she was bridging the racial
and gender divides decades before modern movements
even crystallized those ideas. And the recognition
she has received since then, it reflects the
scale of her impact. She holds a unique position
in the U .S. Capitol building. She is the first
African -American woman to have a statue there.
It's a bust sculpted by artist Lane, unveiled
in Emancipation Hall in 2009. And the monuments
and honors, they span the country and beyond.
There's a 12 -foot bronze statue in Battle Creek.
The M -66 highway is now the Sojourner Truth
Memorial Highway. New York has recognized her
origins with the Sojourner Truth State Park near
her birthplace. And, you know, one of the most
visible recent acknowledgments came in 2020 with
the installation of the Women's Rights Pioneers
Monument in Central Park. Right, depicting Truth
alongside Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady
Stanton. But that statue also serves as... a
potent reminder of the historical struggle for
inclusion. It really does. Because the initial
plans excluded women of color entirely, correct?
That's right. The original proposal only included
Stanton and Anthony. It was only after significant
public objection and criticism about the historical
erasure of contributions by women of color that
Sojourner Truth was added to the design. So her
physical presence in one of the world's most
famous parks, it solidifies her recognition.
But the controversy around her inclusion just
highlights that the very intersectional justice
she fought for remains an ongoing battle today.
It does, and her influence has, well, it has
literally spanned into the cosmos. The NASA Mars
Pathfinder robotic rover, launched in 1997, was
named Sojourner. That's incredible. And the U
.S. Navy named a fleet replenishment oiler, a
crucial logistics and support vessel, the USNS
Sojourner Truth. She has become a national benchmark.
The Smithsonian recognized her as one of the
100 most significant Americans of all time in
2014, and she is slated to appear on the back
of the newly designed $10 bill. Right. Cementing
her place among the pioneers of suffrage and
civil rights. And finally, we have to note her
enduring influence on modern scholarship. Absolutely.
Her struggle for self -definition and recognition
directly inspired the title of Bell Hook's influential
first major work of feminist theory, Ain't I
a Woman, which interrogated the position of black
women in feminist and political movements. And
she's honored with a place setting in Judy Chicago's
renowned art installation, The Dinner Party,
which marks her contribution to female achievement
across history. So to sum up this deep dive,
we've traced the journey of Isabella Bomefree,
a New York Dutch -speaking slave. through her
groundbreaking legal victory in 1828, her spiritual
renaming to Sojourner Truth, and her tireless,
decades -long advocacy for the broad interests
of all humanity, covering abolition, women's
rights, desegregation, and economic justice.
And we've seen her mastery of rhetoric, her strategic
use of song and public image, and her unrelenting
focus on securing both racial and gender equality,
often at great personal risk. But most importantly,
we have, I think, forensically analyzed the central
conflict of her public life. recognizing that
the powerful legend of the Ain't I a Woman speech
came at the direct expense of the verifiable,
eloquent, Dutch -accented voice that was recorded
in 1851. And that brings us to our final provocative
thought for you to chew on as you reflect on
her incredible life. Given that the most quoted,
the most celebrated version of Sojourner Truth's
voice was edited and stylized by a well -meaning
white editor, Francis Dana Barker Gage, to fit
an expectation, of what an enslaved person should
sound like. What does that mean for our understanding
of other historical figures? When we study history,
and particularly when we hear historical voices
filtered through contemporary media or political
necessity or the pen of an intermediary, what
other vital voices might we think we know but
are actually hearing through a powerful lens
of expectation rather than their own authentic
truth? And what is the cost to history and to
the legacy of those who fought for the truth
when the legend becomes more prominent than the
verifiable facts? That's a powerful point. We
hope we've given you a fuller, richer, and more
accurate understanding of the incredible life
and multifaceted legacy of Sojourner Truth, the
Dutch -speaking New Yorker who walked off to
claim her freedom. We'll see you next time.