This was Susan's first experience with intrigue and her first rebuff
by women whom she had sincerely tried to serve. Defeated, hurt, and
uncertain, she poured out her disappointment in troubled letters to
Elizabeth Stanton, who, with the steadying touch of an older sister,
roused her with the challenge, "We have other and bigger fish to
fry."[39]

* * * * *

A few months later, Susan was off on a new crusade as she attended the
state teachers' convention in Rochester. Of the five hundred teachers
present, two-thirds were women, but there was not the slightest
recognition of their presence. They filled the back seats of
Corinthian Hall, forming an inert background for the vocal minority,
the men. After sitting through two days' sessions and growing more and
more impatient as not one woman raised her voice, Susan listened, as
long as she could endure it, to a lengthy debate on the question, "Why
the profession of teacher is not as much respected as that of lawyer,
doctor, or minister."[40] Then she rose to her feet and in a
low-pitched, clear voice addressed the chairman.

At the sound of a woman's voice, an astonished rustle of excitement
swept through the audience, and when the chairman, Charles Davies,
Professor of Mathematics at West Point, had recovered from his
surprise, he patronizingly asked, "What will the lady have?"

"I wish, sir, to speak to the subject under discussion," she bravely
replied.

Turning to the men in the front row, Professor Davies then asked,
"What is the pleasure of the convention?"

"I move that she be heard," shouted an unexpected champion. Another
seconded the motion. After a lengthy debate during which Susan stood
patiently waiting, the men finally voted their approval by a small
majority, and Professor Davies, a bit taken aback, announced, "The
lady may speak."

"It seems to me, gentlemen," Susan began, "that none of you quite
comprehend the cause of the disrespect of which you complain. Do you
not see that so long as society says woman is incompetent to be a
lawyer, minister, or doctor, but has ample ability to be a teacher,
every man of you who chooses this profession tacitly acknowledges that
he has no more brains than a woman? And this, too, is the reason that
teaching is a less lucrative profession; as here men must compete with
the cheap labor of woman. Would you exalt your profession, exalt those
who labor with you. Would you make it more luc