The Faces And The Tactics Of The

I Am Being Tried For Fighting For The Right Of My People, Who Are Still Second-class Citizens In This United States Of America.

Yes, I Heard My People Singing!-in The Glow Of Parlor Coal-stove And On Summer Porches Sweet With Lilac Air, From Choir Loft And Sunday Morning Pews-and My Soul Was Filled With Their Harmonies. Then, Too, I Heard These Songs In The Very Sermons Of My Father, For In The Negro's Speech There Is Much Of The Phrasing And Rhythms Of Folk-song. The Great, Soaring Gospels We Love Are Merely Sermons That Are Sung; And As We Thrill To Such Gifted Gospel Singers As Mahalia Jackson, We Hear The Rhythmic Eloquence Of Our Preachers, So Many Of Whom, Like My Father, Are Masters Of Poetic Speech.

I Feel Closer To My Country Than Ever. There Is No Longer A Feeling Of Lonesome Isolation. Instead-peace. I Return Without Fearing Prejudice That Once Bothered Me . . . For I Know That People Practice Cruel Bigotry In Their Ignorance, Not Maliciously

I Know That If The Peace Movement Takes Its Message Boldly To The Negro People A Powerful Force Can Be Secured In Pursuit Of The Greatest Goal Of All Mankind. And The Same Is True Of Labor And The Great Democratic Sections Of Our Population.

Through The Years I Have Received My Share Of Recognition For Efforts In The Fields Of Sports, The Arts, The Struggle For Full Citizenship For The Negro People, Labor's Rights And The Fight For Peace.