Women’s suffrage in the U.S. (1920)

A Question of Fairness

Hello there. My name is Carrie Chapman Catt, and I want to tell you a story about a question that changed my life, and my country, forever. It all started when I was just a young girl growing up on a farm in Iowa. It was the year 1872, and a big presidential election was happening. My father and the other men who worked on our farm were getting all cleaned up to ride into town to vote. I watched them, full of excitement, and then I turned to my mother. She was one of the smartest, most capable people I knew. She ran our household, helped with the farm, and could solve any problem that came her way. I asked my father why Mother wasn’t getting ready to go with them. He and the other men just chuckled. My father then explained that voting was something only men were allowed to do. I was stunned. My own mother, so brilliant and hardworking, didn’t have a voice in choosing our country’s leaders? It felt completely wrong. That simple moment planted a seed in my mind. It was a question of fairness, and it was a question I would spend the rest of my life trying to answer. The world felt unbalanced, and I knew, even as a girl, that something had to be done to make it right. That feeling of unfairness never left me; it became the fuel for my life's greatest adventure.

A Promise to Keep

When I grew up, I decided I couldn’t just stand by and accept that things were unfair. I joined a group of amazing women who were fighting for the right to vote, a right we called “suffrage.” It was a long and difficult journey. I had the great honor of working with women who had been fighting this battle long before I was born, like the incredible Susan B. Anthony. She was a true hero, with a powerful voice and a spirit that never gave up. She became my mentor and my friend, and before she passed away, I made a promise to her that I would see our fight through to the very end. Keeping that promise took everything I had. We organized thousands of women across the country. We gave speeches in crowded town halls, sometimes to people who cheered for us and sometimes to people who booed. We wrote articles for newspapers, hoping our words would change people's minds. We even held big, colorful parades, marching down city streets with bright yellow banners and sashes, making sure no one could ignore us. It was hard work. Some days, we felt tired and discouraged. To keep us focused, I came up with a strategy I called the “Winning Plan.” The idea was to work on two fronts at once. We would go state by state, convincing each one to change its laws to allow women to vote. At the same time, we would push for a change to the United States Constitution, the biggest rulebook for the whole country. It was like building a giant staircase to our goal, one step at a time. Every small victory gave us the strength to keep climbing, fueled by the promise I had made and the dream we all shared.

The Final Vote

After decades of marching, speaking, and planning, our moment finally arrived in the summer of 1920. We had convinced 35 states to approve the 19th Amendment to the Constitution, which would give all women in America the right to vote. But we needed one more. The thirty-sixth state. All eyes turned to Tennessee. The vote was going to be incredibly close. I traveled to Nashville to wait, and my heart pounded in my chest like a drum. The day of the vote, August 18th, 1920, was hot and tense. The lawmakers gathered, and when they voted, it was a tie. A perfect tie. Our dream was hanging by a single thread. It all came down to one man, the youngest lawmaker there, named Harry T. Burn. At first, he had planned to vote against us. But then, something amazing happened. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a letter. It was from his mother, Febb. She had written to him and said, “Hurrah and vote for suffrage and don’t keep them in doubt… Be a good boy.” With his mother’s words in his mind, he stood up and changed his vote. He voted “Aye.” The room erupted. Women cried, hugged, and cheered with pure joy. We had done it. After more than 70 years of fighting, the long struggle was over. That day, I thought of my mother on the farm, of Susan B. Anthony, and of all the women who had worked so hard for this moment. We had won not just the right to vote, but the right for every woman’s voice to be heard, proving that a simple question about fairness could truly change the world.