Wut Wut WUT IT DO bruthas? It’s black history month and this week
we dreamin’ a dream wit A Raisin in the Sun by Lorraine Hansberry.
It’s round 19-fiddy and da whole Younger family crammed in to a
stuffy two-bedroom apartment up in the south side of Chi-town. Da man
of da house, Walter strugglin to stack change wit his scrub-ass job
as a limo driver, and he barely cuttin it.
There’s hope that they might get outta dat trap, tho, cuz Mama
Younger bout to get PAID: her hubby bit da big one, and now a phat
insurance check fo’ 10 Gs is on it’s way in da mail. Thing is,
Walter actin’ a fool thinkin dat money his- he wanna use it to open
a licka sto’ wit some of his boys. But Mama ain’t down wit dat devil’s
bidness- She wanna use dem stacks fo’ what really matter- sendin
Walter’s sistah Beneatha to med school, and buyin a house so
Walter’s boy Travis can live his life right, naw I’m sayin?
Later, some brutha name Joseph Asagai drop in to chop game at
Beaneatha. He give Benny all sortsa sh** fo actin’ white and not reppin
her African heritage. So he throw her some Nigerian threadz and call
her a Yoruba word- Alaiyo.
When dat check finally come, Walter start fiendin fo’ those ends and
mama gotta put him in his place tellin him dat licka sto’ ain’t
neva’ gonna happen. sh** gets real when mama go on to
tell him he best sit his ass down and talk to his woman Ruth bout da
abortion she thinkin bout havin’. But when Walter don’t say nuthin,
mama gets crunk on his ass and he jus’ pick up his sh** and bounce.
Then some rich busta named George Murchinson come in to holla’ at
Beneatha. Cept when he see her all decked in African swag, he like
“nah girl: go change.” Then Mama swang in wit da most tho’d news
eva: she put some money down on a swoel crib in a hood called
Clybourne Park. There’s just one catch- it’s an all white neighborhood
This fool get his nuts in a bunch when Beneatha keep tryin to talk to him
instead of just puttin’ out. He lay it out real wit her: “Stop trippin
girl, jus’ look good, and keep yo mouth shut.” but afta realizin he
ain’t gettin nowhere, he jus’ peace out.
Not long afta, the phone ring and mama find out Walter been skippin
work and walkin round town like an emo piece o sh**. So mama decide to
let him put on da big boy pants: she toss him da rest o dat
insurance money sayin dat as long as he save 3Gs fo Benny’s schoolin,
he can look afta’ da rest.
Da whole family gettin’ geeked bout movin to tha new spot when some
honk-asaurus named Karl Linder come to the door. He tell em da white
folk of Clybourne park don’t want no blacks movin in. He try and
bribe em with some money but da Youngers tell him where he can
stick it.
Things change when errybody get word that Walter spent da rest of
his daddy’s money on dat licka store. Not only dat, but he got
played by his business padna who skipped town wit da cheddar. Now
Beneatha cain’t go to med school and da Youngers all cashed out
AGAIN!
Now dat errything lookin down, Walter call up dat Linder honkie so
he can take him up on dat cash. But mama say “Look if you gonna bend
ova’ fo da man, you gonn have to do it in front of yo son.” Walter
think long and hard bout if his pride got a price. When Linder show
up again, Walter grow a pair and send his white- ass packin one
final time.
Despite da mess da Youngers gonna have to deal wit up in Clybourne,
they gonna do it wit their heads held high. Ungh!
One of da biggest questions dis play axin is: How’s a brutha gonna
go on livin afta’ his dream no longa possible? Fo da Yonger
family, da dream of buildin a righteous life fo their family been
tripped up by all sorts a mess: mostly racism and oppression. They
learn da raw truth dat there ain’t nothin realer than dreams not comin
true. Like Ruth sayin “life can be a barrel of disappointments.”
But fo’ Walter, when yo dream die, it don’t just dry up like a raisin
in the sun, it rots and festers... mo like a turd in the sun.
All dat pain and rejection he
experienced tryna make it in da land of the American dream jus’
turn this fool in to a bitter hater:
“And you – ain’t you bitter, man? Ain’t you just about had it yet? Don’t you see
no stars gleaming that you can’t reach out and grab?”
But no matta how much dreams can burn a brutha, you gotta have em
yo. Hannsberry droppin images of food all up in dis text to show dat
grub ain’t da only thing dat keep us going- we need dreams too.
Walter: “That’s it. There you are. Man say to his woman: I
got me a dream. His woman say: Eat your eggs.
Man say: I got to take hold of this here
world, baby! And a woman will say: Eat your eggs and go to
work. Man say: I got to change my life,
I’m choking to death, baby! And his woman say
Your eggs is getting cold.” (I.i – 33-34)
We got da same thang goin on wit Beneatha- she dreamin real big like
her brutha. Das why Asagai call her Alaiyo, which mean “One for Whom
Bread- food- is not enough”
Beneatha ain’t only tryna beast through racism, but also the
oppression she face fo’ being a woman.
Man, you could even say dem three Younger women reppin a different
side of womanhood in the 19- fiddies, each wit their own beef to
rough through. See, Beneatha da modern woman tryna do her own thang
and get her education on- but she gotta put up wit weak-ass bustas
like George who jus’ want her to look good and stay quiet.
Whereas mama keepin it OG wit her old school views on God, marriage,
and what it mean to be a family, so she get all tore up watchin’ all
this change round her... Not to mention Walter almost sellin da
family pride for a lil bit of scratch. Mah girl Ruth somewhere in
da middle.
And that’s where da play’s ending leavin us too: somewhere in da
middle. One da one hand da Youngers gonna roll up on Clybourne Park
with their middle fingers in da air, makin it REAL clear what they
think bout da haters. But on da otha hand, they got some true-blue
heartache to overcome. This thug like to think it all gonna be
alright in the end, especially since Walter finally realize his
family’s dignity is priceless.
But not as priceless as hittin dat subscribe button, padna. See yall
next week. Deuces.