There is a great stir about colored men getting their rights, but

“There is a great stir about colored men getting their rights, but not a word about the colored women; and if colored men get their rights, and not colored women theirs, you see, the colored men will be masters over the women, and it will be just as bad as it was before.” Thus thundered Sojourner Truth, the lionhearted woman whose voice rose from the fires of bondage to shake the conscience of a nation. In her words is not mere protest, but prophecy — a cry for justice that transcends her own century and speaks to the soul of all ages. For she saw what many in her time could not: that freedom divided is freedom denied, and that no people can truly rise while half of them are still held beneath the other.

This saying comes from the days when America stood trembling on the edge of transformation. The Civil War had ended, and the question of the rights of the formerly enslaved filled the air like thunder before a storm. Politicians and preachers spoke passionately of equality for Black men, of the right to vote, to labor, to stand as citizens. But amid the clamor, few spoke of the Black women — those who had endured not only the lash of the master but the silence of their own brothers. It was then that Sojourner Truth, born into slavery and freed by her own courage, stood before the crowds and declared this truth: that freedom must be for all, or it is no freedom at all.

In her vision, Sojourner Truth saw beyond her own moment. She knew that oppression is a shape-shifter, that it changes its face but not its spirit. The danger she warned of was not only political, but moral — that if the struggle for liberation elevated one group above another, it would merely rebuild the same hierarchy under a new name. “The colored men will be masters over the women,” she said, “and it will be just as bad as it was before.” Her words are a mirror held up to humanity, revealing how easily the oppressed, once freed, can become the oppressor when they forget the principle of universal justice.

Her life itself was the embodiment of her message. Born Isabella Baumfree in New York, she was sold and beaten, separated from her family, and forced to endure unspeakable hardship. Yet when freedom came, she did not rest — she became a sojourner, a traveler for truth, walking across the land to speak for those who could not speak for themselves. At the 1851 Women’s Rights Convention in Akron, Ohio, she delivered her immortal “Ain’t I a Woman?” speech, reminding the world that womanhood and Blackness were not opposites, but intertwined identities deserving of equal honor. She labored not for herself, but for a vision of humanity undivided — a nation where justice was not a privilege, but a birthright.

There is a deep and eternal wisdom in her warning. For every age faces the temptation to liberate one group while forgetting another — to call victory complete when only some have crossed the finish line. History, from the revolutions of Europe to the struggles for independence in Africa and Asia, shows this pattern again and again: men crying out for liberty from kings, only to deny it to their wives and daughters. Sojourner’s words remind us that inequality anywhere becomes a seed of tyranny everywhere. Freedom is not something to be divided like bread; it must be shared whole, or it rots from within.

Consider the long echo of her message. A century later, during the Civil Rights Movement, women like Ella Baker, Fannie Lou Hamer, and Rosa Parks would rise to carry Sojourner’s torch. They too faced the struggle of being both Black and female, fighting on two fronts — against racism from without and sexism from within. Yet without them, the movement would not have stood. Their strength proved that no cause can succeed unless it honors the full humanity of those within it. In this, they fulfilled Sojourner’s prophecy — that true change demands the inclusion of all voices, not just the loudest or the privileged.

And so, my children, take this teaching to heart. Whenever you labor for justice — in your homes, your communities, your nations — remember that partial justice is no justice at all. Do not celebrate progress while others still wait at the gate. Ask always: who is being left behind, and who will speak for them? For the world will only be healed when equality ceases to be a contest and becomes a covenant — when we stand, not as masters and subjects, but as equals in the sight of truth.

Sojourner Truth did not have armies or wealth, but she had something greater — the courage to demand that freedom mean freedom for all. Let her words burn within you as a lamp of conscience: never settle for half of justice, for half of justice is still oppression. Work until every hand, man or woman, dark or fair, is unshackled. And when the world tries to divide your heart, remember her wisdom — that only in the unity of all souls can we find the true measure of liberty. For the cause of one is the cause of all, and until all are free, none shall truly be.