Where Is The Raised Voice Of Black

When I Went To Japan I Sang In Japanese; When I Went To Greece I Sang In Greek. When I Went To Spain, I Sang In Spanish. I Couldn't Speak It Very Well, But I Sang, I Was Beautiful In Singing It. These Things Just Constantly Attracted People To The Uniqueness Of Who I Was And The Way In Which I Performed.

More Than Once My Mother Would Point Out: "harry Belafonte Is The Best-looking Man On The Planet."

When I Go Across The Country, Whether It's Albuquerque, New Mexico, Whether It's Birmingham, Alabama Or Milwaukee, Wisconsin, There Are Always Forces At Play That I Choose To Relate To And Extract Inspiration From, And As Long As They Stay Committed To The Struggle Against Poverty, I Find A Role For Myself.

Since I Have Escaped The Harshness Of The Economic Bounds Of Poverty, I Have Stayed Very Connected To It Spiritually. I Reside And Live And Go And Socialize And Exist Among Those Who Suffer Daily From The Relationship That They Have To Poverty, Black Men And Women Who Are Incarcerated. Actually, All People Who Are Incarcerated, Not Just Black.

Poverty Continues To Exist. Its Appearance Seems To Be Relentless In Evidencing Itself Not Only To All The Things We Experience Here In America, But Certainly What We See Globally. And I Don't See Anywhere Any Philosophical Analysis That Suggests We Know How To Get Out Of This.