Seneca Falls

by Brigitte Lee, , March 13, 2006

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WOMEN’S RIGHTS NATIONAL PARK – SENECA FALLS
On a rainy October 22, Cortland’s Women’s Studies 100 class arose from deep slumbers around 8am to catch the bus to Seneca Falls, NY; the birth place for Women’s Rights. Still dozing in and out of sleep, and waiting for last minute arrivers, it began as a chilly and quiet bus ride north towards this sacred ground. Though there were several women with the group that had been there before, it was a unique experience to go on this excursion with a dedicated group of people that truly could understand the power and strength of what this location meant.
The trip itself was quite calming, as our school bus transported us through caves of colored leaves and beautiful landscapes. After small discussions and sleepy conversations, we arrived in Seneca Falls almost an hour and a half later in what can be described as a simple All-American town.

The first stop was to the Wesleyan Chapel at the Women’s Rights National Park. We gathered in a circle, sheltered from the rain, and gazed at the partial remains of a structure resembling what once was the convention initiated by Elizabeth Cady Stanton where women had gathered together to sign the Declaration of Sentiments, and express their stresses of being confined to the home. Our group of women gathered, shivering, in a circle to each read a piece of this great document. “We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men and women are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness;” As the lines were read, it became obvious that we were becoming part of what so many women before us had always aimed to achieve. We were a group of women, studying our history, the history of women; not a history of a culture, or a religion, or a race. We were taking another step in the direction of true equality. After we finished, and took a group picture and moved on to observe the water wall of names that appear signed on the Declaration of Sentiments, we moved indoors.

The museum immediately spread its arms around us and pulled us in its warm, dry, and inspiring being. We signed in and directly moved into the small theater to watch a movie on the history of Seneca Falls and a peak on what Elizabeth Cady Stanton did in those ten days before the Convention. Though slightly outdated, it did a generally overall decent job in explaining the events that occurred. We then took a break to visit the town of Seneca Falls, have lengthy and indulging conversations over lunch, and stop in the “Woman-Made Products” shop to purchase various women rights products (stickers, posters, t-shirts, cards, letters, tin boxes, tissue containers, artwork, etc.). Finally we returned to the museum to engage in the displays, interactive props, and history of the Women’s Rights Convention. Spending nearly an hour gazing at beautiful images of empowered women since the convention, and talking with each other, we made our way back into the rain on the bus. We were heading to Stanton’s home. Our bus pulled up, and we emptied out to a very small but quaint two-story house with a large front porch. It was immediately noticeable that the house sat on a large chunk of land, much larger that some of the other houses surrounding it. Our volunteer guide arrived just after us. She was surprisingly very well educated about Elizabeth Cady Stanton and filled us in on the ins and outs of how she lived, raised her children, felt about women’s rights, and even what she ate. A few pieces of Stanton’s furniture were present, as well as letters, and various books and artifacts she once owned.
We were told stories of her mischievous children, and how she liked to live slightly more radical than many other men and women in her area. We moved from room to room, exploring and absorbing the fine details of Stanton’s life. However, this was the end of our trip, and so we gathered one last time onto our bus and began the journey back home. But not without another session of lengthy, in-depth discussion about marriage, and women, and the philosophies of women’s rights. After accidentally knocking out a gathering of wild turkeys in the road, and turning around a few times, we found our way back to Cortland to diverge our own ways. But not without having a newfound respect for the movement we as young active college women are part of.

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