For this month’s Contemporary Classics Conversation subject, I turn to thoughts of the holidays that we are in the midst of, and among the anticipated joys and celebrations of the days ahead, is the inevitability of some difficult family situations many of us find ourselves facing. The anxiety those can bring and the deep and long-held wounded relationships are an incredible challenge.
Several years ago, when dealing with some of these challenges, I experienced another moment where the power of theatre changed my perspective on an issue most immediate in my life, and in changing my perspective, changed my actions as well. It was not the first time I had read or experienced Lorraine Hansberry’s A Raisin in the Sun. Far from it. I knew this play well. But this time, another moment in the lives of the Youngers would impact me in an unexpected deeply affecting way. It is this excerpt from Act III, scene 1. Walter, out of his humiliation and despair, had just proclaimed his intent to accept the previously-refused financial offer from Karl Lindner intended to prevent the Youngers from moving into Clybourne Park, leaving Mama and his sister Beneatha stunned, each in their own way, at the disintegration of their family member:
BENEATHA That is not a man. That is nothing but a toothless rat.
MAMA Yes—death done come in this here house. (She is nodding, slowly, reflectively) Done come walking in my house on the lips of my children. You what supposed to be my beginning again. You—what supposed to be my harvest. (To BENEATHA) You—you mourning your brother?
BENEATHA He’s no brother of mine.
MAMA What you say?
BENEATHA I said that that individual in that room is no brother of mine.
MAMA That’s what I thought you said. You feeling like you better than he is today? (BENEATHA does not answer) Yes? What you tell him a minute ago? That he wasn’t a man? Yes? You give him up for me? You done wrote his epitaph too—like the rest of the world? Well, who give you the privilege?
BENEATHA Be on my side for once! You saw what he just did, Mama! You saw him—down on his knees. Wasn’t it you who taught me to despise any man who would do that? Do what he’s going to do?
MAMA Yes—I taught you that. Me and your daddy. But I thought I taught you something else too … I thought I taught you to love him.
BENEATHA Love him? There is nothing left to love.
MAMA There is always something left to love. And if you ain’t learned that, you ain’t learned nothing. (Looking at her) Have you cried for that boy today? I don’t mean for yourself and for the family ’cause we lost the money. I mean for him: what he been through and what it done to him. Child, when do you think is the time to love somebody the most? When they done good and made things easy for everybody? Well then, you ain’t through learning—because that ain’t the time at all. It’s when he’s at his lowest and can’t believe in hisself ’cause the world done whipped him so! When you starts measuring somebody, measure him right, child, measure him right. Make sure you done taken into account what hills and valleys he come through before he got to wherever he is.
Oh, the profound wisdom of our elders, real and fictional, and the capacity of theatre to bring this wisdom to us all. How many times had I not made the effort to look past my own anger and wounds to “measure (somebody) right”? How many times had I given up on someone, believing in my own righteous indignation at their behavior, believing I was better than them? How few times did I measure somebody right?
Mama’s words exploded in my mind, crystallized my conscious awareness of my own behavior, and profoundly affected my perspective on others, those in my life I had many times professed to love and yet, had turned away from. It was severely humbling. And I am, to this day, grateful for this experience and the doors that have been reopened because of it.
So, my question for us to discuss this month are about this kind of deeply personal, conscious-affecting impact: have any of you had a theatrical experience that has profoundly changed your perspective on yourself, your circle of intimates, the world in which you live? Has that impact changed the way you go about living your life, relating to your circle of intimates, participating in the world in which you live?
We look forward to hearing from you, and continuing our Conversation!
For further experience with A Raisin in the Sun, the Yale Repertory Theatre is performing the play March 13-April 4, 2020. Here is a link to their page:
