Harry Belafonte’s spirit was beautiful.
And I don’t mean to say powerful, bold, influential or some other equally acceptable masculine-leaning adjective. Yes, he was that too — but above all else, he was beautiful. His energy was beautiful. Giving and kind. Thoughtful and caring. Decisive and direct. He spent a lifetime pouring his love across the world into others who needed it most, and that is nothing short of beautiful.
So, as he leaves this physical form and returns home from a life well lived, I’ll unapologetically call his life what it was, beautiful. A beautiful display of manhood.
Read Farewell to a cultural force in The St. Louis American.
Harry Belafonte exemplified this in outstanding fashion. He was a different breed. Walked in his own lane. Defined manhood on his own terms. Defined living on his own terms. Even defined Blackness on his own terms. And he did it all, effortlessly.
A strong moral fortitude birthed of struggle and love, he was a good man. He had an immense capacity for caring, working as an activist alongside not only Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. in the battle for civil rights in the United States but also alongside humanitarian workers in Africa in the service of human decency worldwide.
He was a beautiful example of Black manhood. A powerful reminder that Black men have limitless capacity to be as visionary as they desire. Limitless magic to create a new order in their communities. And limitless capacity to be giving and nurturing in service to humankind.
Belafonte had an intense desire to do something about the problems of the world, and he had the drive and determination to get about the business of actually doing it. Action is at the forefront of his legacy. An artist who gave truth a stage. A heart that gave those in need of refuge and shelter. Love that was split, shared, and multiplied throughout the world.
There is not a decade in most of the past century where Harry Belafonte was not relevant.
In the ’50s, he used his artistry to tell Black stories to diverse audiences, tapping into his Jamaican roots and Harlem upbringing to bring to life the tales of the working class with songs like “Day-O.”
His debut album “Calypso” was the first LP by a single artist to sell a million copies. But he was not one-dimensional in his artistry. He seamlessly shifted from singing to acting and back again during this decade, starring in both TV and film, including in one of the first successful all-Black major motion picture films, “Carmen Jones” with Dorothy Dandridge. To this day, this film is still applauded and celebrated for its milestones and artistry.
Into the ’60s, Harry Belafonte was a powerful voice in the civil rights movement. He marched beside Dr. King, even helping to plan the March on Washington. On several occasions, he used his celebrity to raise money for various civil rights causes, including to bail Dr. King and other protesters from jail following peaceful protests. He also used his celebrity to support the various initiatives of well-known equal rights organizations, such as the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) of which a young John Lewis was an active member.
The ’70s and ’80s were spent building upon the legacy that he’d begun to create in his early career. He continued moving back and forth between music, film and activism, always using his voice to amplify the needs of those whose voices weren’t heard.
In 1984, he helped organize the celebrity packed “We Are the World” charity benefit song in support of the humanitarian needs of Africa. He initiated the idea, he was a visionary who sought to use his privilege and position for good.
In the ’80s, he also became an outspoken advocate for the ending of apartheid in South Africa. His humanitarian efforts found a permanent home in Africa during the ’80s and ’90s. He gave love. He gave of himself.
After all of this, Harry Belafonte could have literally rested on his work, hung up his hat and enjoyed retirement, but he kept at it. In 1987, he was named a UNICEF Goodwill Ambassador and remained as such until he died.
In the 2000s, he spoke his mind on politics to both Democrats and Republicans alike. In 2014, he and actor Danny Glover came to Ferguson, Missouri during the “Ferguson Uprising” after a police officer shot and killed unarmed Michael Brown.
Harry Belafonte was a voice that sought to speak the truth. He was the hand that sought to right wrongs. The love that sought to heal the world. What a beautiful way to live.
Kamaria Fayola is an attorney, writer, runs the blog ‘Words of my Mother.’ This commentary was originally published here in TheGrio.
