Minxie Villaver

I have a penchant for African-American humor, so the entire time I was reading, I was both laughing but also in pain from how familiar this African-American family's woes were to me as a Filipino. (Lorraine Hansberry was a genius, not to mention way ahead of her time!) Despite the differences between African-American and Filipino history, somehow the way the Caucasian race impacted us and our views of ourselves are the same. I could see it in the worn-out apartment; Ruth's violent stare at her husband when he gave their son a dollar for the day, which was too much money; Walter's persistent reminder to his sister to work as a nurse or to get married to a rich man; Mama's unfulfilled dreams about getting a house; the "blessing" of having a child despite the financial problems it further brings; the loss of cultural identity and knowledge of one's own history after being ravaged by whites; the short-lived happiness that money brought to the family; and many other instances. I was, however, a bit disappointed that Mama gave in to Walter's request for the money as I think Walter's impulsive behavior early on already made him unqualified to hold $6,500. This indeed went downhill, and I could really relate to how your own fellow man could woo you into giving them your money since you're facing the same economic crisis. But I do still feel heartbroken for Walter, especially after he told his son, Travis, his dreams for the family in seven years' time. I loved Beneatha among all the other characters! Her awareness regarding the power play between a patriarchal society and women, between her lost heritage and the dominant, oppressive culture that took it from them, between the social standing of George Murchison and the authenticity of Joseph Asagai speaks volumes to me as a Filipino woman. I particularly appreciate her later inclination toward Asagai and her realization that George was just a condescending, ignorant sexist. Reading Langston Hughes's poem before and after reading the play gave it more meaning for me. It made me see that as we grow older, the ambitions we once had in our early years gradually fade away due to the realities of society. But what really happens to these dreams inside us as they're further delayed? Langston Hughes ponders upon this question through various symbols, the interpretations of which are excellently depicted in Lorraine's play. These can be seen in Mama's bittersweet recollection of her dream to buy a house, in Ruth's eagerness to sacrifice just to move out of the apartment, in Walter's growing frustrations over his desire to be an entrepreneur to turn his family's life around, and in Beneatha's brokenness when Willy Harris stole the money intended for her medical schooling. The deferred dreams in these characters teetered their emotions, interactions, and decisions. They were hopeful, tired, depressed, and then relieved, desperate, impulsive, and many other things, making Hughes's poem a perfect epigraph. However, I was highly concerned regarding the play's conclusion. Since their final decision was really to move into Clybourne Park, where they'd be the only colored people in the neighborhood, will their family have the same fate as the other colored people who were bombed? Why did Walter decide, at the last minute, to not negotiate with Lindler about selling the house like he said he would?