Six and a half decades after Robeson’s Othello debut, much has changed, and much has not. “The artist must elect to fight for Freedom or for Slavery,” Robeson said in the biography “The Whole World in His Hands.” “I have made my choice.” We would all do well to follow the example of Paul Robeson.

When Paul Robeson stepped onto the stage of the Shubert Theater exactly 65 years ago this week, he filled the hall with his deep baritone and shattered a stained glass ceiling.

It was the first time that a black man — rather than a white actor in blackface makeup — performed the role of Shakespeare’s Othello on a Broadway stage with an all-white supporting cast.

Robeson had performed Othello to great acclaim in London in 1930. Time magazine wrote that he “fondled and kissed” his white Desdemona and suggested that this wouldn’t fly on the U.S. stage.

When Robeson finally did reach Broadway on Oct. 19, 1943, his performance commanded immediate attention and respect. The play's director, Margaret Webster, said “the moment he stepped onto that stage he was not only a black man, but was a great black man, a man of stature. He put the play in focus.”

Paul Robeson was a giant in every sense of the word. Born on April 9, 1898, to a father who was an escaped slave and a mother who was descended from abolitionist Quakers, Robeson was a gifted athlete. Only the third black person to attend Rutgers, he was selected as a collegiate All-American in football in 1917 and 1918, despite enduring violent hatred from white teammates.

Robeson was also a renaissance man who excelled at languages and intellectual pursuits. He graduated from Columbia Law School, but the success he experienced as a performing artist soon defined his life’s path. His commanding voice and precise diction would captivate audiences whether it was in the delivery of Shakespearian prose, a Broadway musical, or a folk song performed in its original language.

Throughout his professional career, he was unapologetically outspoken about his social and political beliefs.

While touring Europe as a concert performer in the 1940s, Robeson frequently spoke out against American racism, and expressed his unwavering support for the Soviet Union and communism. When word of some of his remarks spread in the United States, he returned from a triumphant European tour in 1949 and was greeted by racist and violent protests in places like Peekskill, N.Y.

In the weeks that followed, concerts were canceled, and Robeson's recordings were withdrawn from store shelves. Remarkably, even Robeson's selection as a college football All-American was wiped from the record books. In 1950, his passport was revoked by the State Department.

In 1956, he was called before the House Un-American Activities Committee, for refusing to sign an affidavit stating that he was not a communist. That's where Robeson famously responded to a committee member who asked why he didn't simply stay in the Soviet Union. “Because my father was a slave, and my people died to build this country and I am going to stay here and have a part of it just like you,” came Robeson's fiery answer. “No fascist-minded people will drive me from it. Is that clear?”

During his later years, Robeson was dismissed by some, forgotten by others. But he was unwavering in his belief that individuals — especially creative artists — should be able to express their opinions without fear of censorship. Robeson's passport was restored in 1958, but his fight for justice had taken its toll. After years of ill health, he died in Philadelphia in 1976.

Six and a half decades after Robeson’s Othello debut, much has changed, and much has not.

I'm having trouble remembering the last time I saw a serious romance between a black man and a white woman on the big screen. And in the post-9/11 era, creative artists — especially artists of color — with dissenting viewpoints (like hip-hop musician Kanye West, for example) are still frequently labeled unpatriotic and anti-American.

“The artist must elect to fight for Freedom or for Slavery,” Robeson said in the biography “The Whole World in His Hands.” “I have made my choice.”

We would all do well to follow the example of Paul Robeson.

Andrea Lewis is a member of the Stanford University Knight Journalism Fellowship Class of 2008. She is the host and producer of “Sunday Sedition” on KPFA Radio in Berkeley, Calif. She can be reached at pmproj [at] progressive [dot] org.