The Younger family’s living room used to be comfortable. Many years ago, the family chose each piece of furniture carefully. They decorated it and made it into a home. The apartment used to be full of hope and love.

The apartment had one main room. The living room and the kitchen were connected. There was only one window, and it was too small. A little natural light came in through the kitchen window. The family couldn’t enjoy it very much because it was never bright enough.

The Younger family ate meals in the living room because they didn’t have a dining room. The living room looked tired. The couch used to have a beautiful pattern. These days, there were blankets and covers on the couch. The carpet used to be clean and new. Now, there was a table and a chair over part of the carpet to hide the stains and holes. The carpet used to be colorful, but now it was all gray and brown.

The apartment was clean. The family took good care of it. But everything was old and tired. It wasn’t a place to live. It was only a place to eat, sleep, and work.

There were two more rooms in the apartment. Lena, the mother, and her adult daughter Beneatha slept in one room. Lena’s son, Walter Lee, and his wife Ruth slept in the other room. Walter and Ruth’s son, Travis, slept on the living room couch.

There were too many people for such a small space, and they were often frustrated by their little home. They were a big family under a little roof, in an apartment building on Chicago’s Southside. The building was five or six stories high and made of brick. There were many small apartments in the building, and the buildings were close together. The neighboring building prevented a lot of light from coming into the apartment.

It was the 1950s. At that time, the Southside was a large neighborhood. Almost all of the families that lived there, like the Youngers, were African American. There were middle-class families and poor families in the neighborhood. Most of the families were working families. They worked hard to build a better life, but Chicago was a difficult place for African American families to live. Some people wanted to leave the Southside. They wanted to move into houses in less crowded neighborhoods. But racist people and leaders didn’t want African Americans to live in the same neighborhoods as White families. So most African American families stayed in the Southside. It was too crowded and everything cost too much, but at least it was usually safe from racist attacks.

In this little apartment in this neighborhood in Chicago, the Younger family built their life. And tomorrow, the Younger family was expecting something exciting. Their lives were about to change.

One dark morning, just like every morning, the alarm clock rang in Ruth and Walter’s room. Ruth woke up first, as usual, and went into the living room. There was a little light from the window. She wanted to open it and see the sun. As she walked to the window, she stopped at the little couch. She saw her son Travis sleeping on the couch, and she touched him gently.

“It’s seven thirty, Travis, time to get up,” she said quietly as she walked to the window. She lifted the old window shade and looked out into the morning. It was cold and misty. The morning light gently lit up her face. Ruth was about thirty years old, and she was very beautiful. But she looked tired. Her life was more difficult than she had expected, and she usually looked disappointed. She took one long look out the window into the cloudy sky above. Then she turned back to the kitchen and went to the little stove. She started to boil some water for coffee and oatmeal.

Then Ruth walked back to her son. He was still sleeping on the couch. She shook him again. “Travis, hurry up! We all need to use the bathroom, get up and take your turn!”

Finally, the boy woke up. Little Travis sat up on the couch and rubbed his eyes. He was a handsome little ten-year-old boy. He stood up, yawned, and stretched. Then, without really waking up all the way, he took his clothes for the day from a little closet in the living room. He walked through the front door.

The Younger family’s apartment was so small that it didn’t even have a bathroom. They shared a bathroom with their neighbors, the Johnsons. Between the Youngers and the Johnsons, there were seven people for one little bathroom.

Each morning, everyone needed a turn in the bathroom. Each person needed to use the bathroom quickly or someone else could be late. Travis needed to go to school. Walter Lee needed to go to work. Ruth also needed to work. So Ruth hoped that Travis would use the bathroom quickly. She didn’t want anyone to be late.

Ruth watched Travis go into the hall and to the bathroom, then she went to her bedroom door. She opened it up and said, “Walter Lee! It’s after seven thirty! Wake up!” She waited for a moment. “You had better get up! It’s after seven thirty.”  Ruth waited for another moment and then continued, “Fine! Just lay there and let Mr. Johnson take your turn in the bathroom. Go ahead! Be late!” Finally, she lost all of her patience. “Walter Lee—it’s time for you to GET UP!”

Ruth closed the door loudly and went back into the little kitchen. She wiped her face with a towel and ran her fingers through her hair. She felt very tired. Finally, the bedroom door opened and she saw her husband standing in his mismatched pajamas. He was a little older than Ruth, but not by much. He was thin and tall and always looked intense. Ruth used to love his intensity, but now it made her worried.

“Is he out yet?” Walter asked his wife.

Ruth looked at him. “What do you mean ‘out’? He just got in.”

“Well, then why did you yell?” Walter paused. He suddenly felt more awake. He remembered something important. He said, “Is the check coming today?”

Ruth started working in the kitchen to make breakfast. She cracked some eggs into a bowl. “They said Saturday, and today is just Friday. Walter, please don’t talk to me about money. It’s too early in the morning. I don’t want to hear it.”

Walter said, “Is there something wrong with you this morning?”

Ruth shook her head, “I’m just so tired. What kind of eggs do you want?”

“Not scrambled,” Walter replied. “Is the newspaper here?”

Ruth pointed to the Chicago Tribune lying on the table and began scrambling some eggs for breakfast.

Walter looked at the newspaper. “There was another bombing yesterday,” he said. The newspaper told the story of an African American family. Their house had been bombed by racist White people who were angry about having African Americans in the same neighborhood.

Ruth was not interested. “Was there?”

Walter looked up from his newspaper. He was frowning. He said, “What’s the matter with you?”

“Nothing is the matter with me. Stop asking.” Ruth went back to cooking, and Walter went back to reading his newspaper.

“It says Colonel McCormick is sick.”

Ruth pretended to be interested. “Is he? Poor thing.”

Walter sighed and looked at his watch. “What is Travis doing in the bathroom for so long? He needs to start getting up earlier. I can’t be late to work because of him.”

Ruth turned to him and said angrily, “Oh no, he is not going to be getting up earlier. No! It’s not his fault that he can’t get to bed any earlier. Every night there are a bunch of good-for-nothing clowns sitting up talking in what is supposed to be his bedroom after ten o’clock at night!”

Walter was offended. Who was she calling a clown? “Oh, that’s what you’re mad about, isn’t it? The things I want to talk about with my friends aren’t important, are they?”

Walter stood up and found a cigarette in Ruth’s purse. He walked to the little window and looked out over the city. He enjoyed his first cigarette of the day and looked at all the people walking and driving on the street. It was early in the morning, but the neighborhood was already busy. He watched the people walk quickly, going to work or school or already working. He watched the cars drive down the street.

Ruth sighed and said, “Why do you always have to smoke before you eat in the morning?” She said the same thing every morning. She was so tired of the little kitchen and the same routine every day.

Walter looked at the people down on the street. “Just look at them down there, running and racing to work…” Suddenly he turned around and looked at his wife. He smiled and said, “You look young this morning, baby.”

Ruth was too tired to really enjoy the attention. She smiled just a little bit and said, “Yeah?”

“Just for a second, stirring the eggs. Just for a second it was… you looked really young again.” He reached for her. He wanted to hold her in his arms and give her a kiss. But she turned away. His smile dropped. “It’s gone now, you look like yourself again.”

“Shut up and leave me alone,” said Ruth with a little laugh.

Walter looked out the window again. He said, “The first thing a man ought to learn is not to flirt first thing in the morning. Women are evil people at eight o’clock in the morning.”

Finally, Travis was finished in the bathroom. He left the bathroom and walked in the door. He knew that he had to hurry. He saw his father and quickly said, “Daddy, come on!”

Walter quickly took his things and rushed into the bathroom. He didn’t want to miss his turn.

“Sit down and have your breakfast, Travis,” said Ruth gently.

“Mama, today is Friday!” said Travis happily. “The check is coming tomorrow, right?”

Ruth sighed. All of this talk about money bothered her. She didn’t want to think about it. Instead she said, “Stop thinking about money and eat your breakfast.”

Travis started eating his oatmeal, but he didn’t stop thinking about money. “This morning we are supposed to bring fifty cents to school.”

Ruth shook her head. “Well, I don’t have fifty cents this morning.”

Travis insisted, “The teacher says we have to, though.”

“I don’t care what the teacher says. I ain’t got it. Eat your breakfast, Travis,” said his mother.

“I am eating,” said Travis.

“Hush up now and just eat!” said Ruth. The family didn’t have much money. Ruth worked in other peoples’ houses. She cooked and cleaned. Walter was a driver — he drove a car for a rich man named Mr. Arnold. They had some money. But fifty cents seemed like a lot of money to Ruth, and she didn’t want to give it to Travis.

Travis was exasperated. Why didn’t his mother understand? He ate a few more bites, and then he tried again. “Do you think Grandmama would have it?”

Ruth lost her patience. “No! And I want you to stop asking your grandmother for money, do you understand?”

Now Travis lost his patience, too. “I don’t ask her! She just gives it to me sometimes!”

“Travis Willard Younger! I am not going to argue with you—”

The boy saw his chances going away. He needed the fifty cents, but how could he get it? “Maybe Daddy—”

“Travis!” exclaimed his mother. She was really angry now, and Travis knew he should be quiet. Neither Travis nor Ruth said anything for a few minutes. Travis ate his breakfast and thought. Ruth made some coffee.

Finally, Travis couldn’t be quiet any more. He had a new idea. “Maybe I could go carry some groceries in front of the supermarket for a little while after school?”

Ruth didn’t like his idea. “Just hush, I said.”

Travis jabbed his spoon into his cereal bowl and left it there. He made fists with both of his hands and rested his head on them angrily.

Ruth sighed. “If you are finished eating, you can get over there and make your bed.”

Fine, thought Travis. He stood up stiffly and went across the room to the little couch. He picked up the blankets and put them into a messy pile. With a frown on his face, he picked up his books and hat. He didn’t look at his mother, but he said, “I’m leaving now.”

Ruth looked up from the stove automatically to look at him. His hair was a little messy. “Come here,” she said. “Take your comb and fix your head.”

Travis put his books down and sighed dramatically. He walked over to the little mirror and combed his hair.

That little boy is so stubborn, thought Ruth to herself. “Get your jacket, too. It looks chilly out this morning. And don’t forget money for the bus and for milk, and,” she added while giving him a sharp look, “and don’t take one more cent, do you hear me?”

Travis said, “Yes’m,” and took the money from her purse. He walked angrily to the door and gave his mother one more grumpy look. Then he turned away to face the door. He kept his back to his mother.

Ruth looked at her little boy and smiled suddenly. She said, pretending to be Travis, “Oh, Mama makes me so mad sometimes, I don’t know what to do!” Ruth looked at Travis’s back and continued, frowning dramatically as she spoke, “I won’t kiss that woman good-bye! Not for anything!”

Travis finally turned around and rolled his eyes. He had a little smile on his face, but he didn’t walk to her yet.

Ruth continued, “Not for nothing in this world!” Ruth laughed aloud and held her arms out to him.

The little boy crossed the room to his mother and let her hold him. She hugged him warmly, then held him away from her a little. She looked at his handsome face and ran her fingers over his cheek and chin. She said very gently, “Now—whose little, old, angry man are you?”

Finally Travis began to really smile. His face became soft and sweet, and he said, “Oh, Mama…”

Ruth laughed and let him go. “Get out of here, or you are going to be late!”

Travis decided to try one more time to get the money for the teacher. “Mama, could I please go carry groceries?”

Ruth sighed, but she wasn’t angry anymore. “Honey, it’s starting to get so cold in the evening.”

At that moment, Walter returned from the bathroom. He was wearing black slacks and a white shirt with a short black tie. He looked at Ruth and said, “What does Travis want to do?”

“He wants to go carry groceries after school at the supermarket,” Ruth replied.

“Well, let him go,” said Walter.

Travis saw his opportunity. “I have to—Mama won’t give me the fifty cents.”

Walter looked at Ruth and asked, “Why not?”

Ruth said simply, “Because we don’t have it.”

Walter asked Ruth, “Why do you tell the boy things like that?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin dramatically. “Here, son.” As he gave the money to Travis, he looked at his wife.

Travis didn’t notice the tension, and he took the coin happily. “Thanks, Daddy!” Then, before Ruth could change Walter’s mind, Travis started walking towards the door.

Walter kept looking at Ruth. His eyes were hard and he had a frown on his face. “In fact,” he said, “here’s another fifty cents. Go buy yourself some fruit today, or take a taxicab to school or something!”

“Wow!” said Travis. He leapt up and hugged his father. They looked at each other lovingly.

Slowly Walter looked up to his wife. Now her eyes were angry. He looked away quickly. “Come on, son, you’d better get down now, and get to school.”

Travis climbed down from his father’s arms and said happily, “Okay, good-bye!” He left the apartment with a smile on his face.

Walter looked at his son with pride, “That’s my boy.”

Ruth looked at Walter with disgust. Then she turned back to her work. Walter said, “Do you know what I was thinking about in the bathroom this morning?”

Ruth knew, but she didn’t care. “No,” she said.

“I was thinking about my plans with Willy Harris,” he said.

Ruth stopped what she was doing and said quickly, “Willy Harris is a good-for-nothing loudmouth.”

Willy Harris was Walter’s new friend. Walter was always thinking about business, and Willy thought about business, too. Last night, they talked about business plans. They talked until late at night. They had an idea to start a business together.

A few years ago, Walter had a friend named Charlie Atkins. Ruth didn’t like Charlie Atkins either. She also called him a good-for-nothing loudmouth. One day Charlie asked Walter to start a business with him, but Walter said no. Now Charlie Atkins was a successful businessman. He owned a dry-cleaning business, and he made a hundred thousand dollars a year. A hundred thousand!

Ruth put her head on her arms and rested on the table for a moment. Walter walked over to her. “You’re tired, aren’t you?” he asked. “Tired of everything. Me, the boy, the way we live—this apartment—everything. Aren’t you?”

Ruth didn’t look up and she didn’t answer.

Walter continued, bitterly. “You’re so tired, moaning and groaning all the time. But you won’t help, will you? You can’t be on my side, can you?”

From the table, Ruth said quietly, “Walter, please leave me alone.”

Walter didn’t leave her alone. He continued, “Talk to Mama about it. Mama will listen to you. She doesn’t listen to me or Bennie, but she listens to you. She respects you. All you have to do is sit down with her. Drink your coffee and talk about things. Say that you have been thinking about that deal Walter Lee is so interested in. Tell her about the store. She’ll listen to you and ask questions. And when I come home, I can tell her the details. I can do this, baby. Me and Willy and Bobo are going to open that store.”

Ruth picked her head up for a moment, “Bobo?” Bobo was one of Walter’s old friends. She didn’t know Bobo was involved with this plan, too. She thought Bobo was okay, but what did he know about business?

Walter was not discouraged. “Yeah. The little liquor store will cost about seventy-five thousand dollars to open. We need to invest about thirty thousand to start it. That will be ten thousand dollars each. Of course, there’s a couple of hundred you also have to pay to make sure the license is approved—”

Ruth frowned, “You mean bribery?”

Walter frowned, too. “Don’t call it that. See, women don’t know anything about the world. Baby, nothing happens for you in this world unless you pay somebody off.”

Again, Ruth said, “Walter, leave me alone.” She raised her head and gave him an angry look. Then she said, more quietly, “Eat your eggs, they’re going to be cold.”

Walter stood up and looked away. Then he said, passionately, “That’s it. There you are. A man says to his woman, ‘I have a dream.’ His woman says, ‘eat your eggs.’ A man says, ‘I need to take hold of this world, baby!’ And a woman will say, ‘Eat your eggs and go to work.’ A man says, ‘I need to change my life, I’m choking to death, baby!’” Walter’s voice became sad and frustrated. He finished his speech, “And his woman says, ‘Your eggs are getting cold!’”

Ruth said softly, “Walter, it’s not our money,” but Walter wasn’t listening. He wasn’t even looking at her.

He kept talking, “This morning, I was looking in the mirror and thinking about  my life. I’m thirty-five years old. I’ve been married for eleven years, and I have a son who sleeps in the living room.” His voice was very, very quiet now. “And the only thing that I can give him is stories about how rich white people live…”

Ruth only said, “Eat your eggs, Walter.”

Walter slammed his hand on the table and stood up suddenly. “Damn my eggs! Damn all the eggs there ever were!”

“Then go to work.”

“See,” said Walter. “I’m trying to talk to you about myself, and all you can say is eat your eggs and go to work.”

Ruth sighed and spoke with a tired voice. “Honey, you never say anything new. I listen to you every day, every night, and every morning, but you never say anything new.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Okay, so you would rather be Mr. Arnold than be his driver. Well, I would rather live in Buckingham Palace.”

Ruth stood up and cleared her dishes from the table. She walked into the little living room and took out her ironing board out from the closet. She set it up in the living room and picked up a large pile of clothes from a basket. She started to sprinkle the clothes with water to begin ironing. One of her jobs was ironing clothes for other people. Sometimes she worked for hours and hours, just ironing clothes. Today was going to be a long day. She had a lot of clothes to iron, and she was already tired.

At that moment, the other bedroom door opened. Walter’s sister Beneatha walked out. She was about twenty years old. She was as slim and intense as her brother. She wasn’t as pretty as Ruth, but she had an intelligent face and was very attractive. She was wearing bright red flannel pajamas, and her thick hair was messy on her head.

She walked through the room without looking at Walter or Ruth and opened the front door. She was checking if the bathroom was available, but it wasn’t. The Johnsons had found their opportunity to take the bathroom, and now the Youngers couldn’t use it until they were finished. She closed the door with a sleepy frown and walked back over to the table. She sat down and closed her eyes again for a moment.

“I am going to start timing those people,” she said. Her accent was a little different from her brother’s. Her brother still spoke with a slight Southern accent, like his mother and father. But Beneatha’s accent was more Mid-Western.

Walter looked at his sister and said simply, “You should get up earlier.”

Beneatha put her head in her hands and said with a little smile, “Really? Would you suggest dawn?” Then she opened her eyes a little more and said, “Where’s the paper?”

Walter passed the newspaper across the table to her. He said, “You look horrible in the morning.”

Beneatha ignored him and said, “Good morning, everybody.”

Walter asked, “How is school?” His sister was much younger than him. She was a college student. Walter had never gone to college.

“Lovely, lovely,” replied Beneatha. “And you know, biology is the greatest.” She looked at Walter and teased him, “I dissected something that looked just like you yesterday.”

Walter didn’t laugh. He was still thinking about money. He asked, “I just wondered if you’ve made up your mind and everything.”

Beneatha began to feel impatient with her brother. Her voice was sharp when she answered, “And what did I answer yesterday morning? And the day before that?”

Ruth looked up from her ironing board and said in a bored voice, “Don’t be so nasty, Bennie.”

But Beneatha continued talking to her brother, “And the day before that and the day before that!”

Walter felt defensive. Why was his sister so angry all the time? “I’m just interested in you. Is there something wrong with that? There aren’t many girls who decide —”

And both Walter and Beneatha finished the sentence, “to be a doctor.”

They were silent for a moment. But then Walter continued, “Do you know how much medical school is going to cost yet?”

Ruth looked over again and said, “Walter Lee, why don’t you leave that girl alone and get out of here? Go to work.”

Walter didn’t leave yet. He looked at his sister intensely. “You know the check is coming tomorrow.”

Beneatha said angrily, “That money belongs to Mama, Walter. She will decide how she wants to use it. I don’t care if she wants to buy a house or a rocket ship or just nail it up somewhere and look at it. It’s hers. Not ours—hers.”

Walter shook his head. “Now that’s fine! You just have your mother’s interest at heart, don’t you? You’re such a nice girl, but when Mama gets that money, she can always take a few thousand and help you through school too, can’t she?”

Beneatha and her brother were very similar in some ways. They loved each other, but they were both very passionate, and they argued often. They were different in some ways, too. Walter was much older, and he was always concerned about money. Beneatha was young and had big plans to become a doctor. While Walter thought about money and business, Beneatha thought about education and expressing herself. She thought about identity and independence. She said, “I have never asked anyone around here to do anything for me!”

But Walter said, “No, but the line between asking and just accepting when the time comes is big and wide, ain’t it!”

Beneatha was really angry now. “What do you want from me, Brother? That I quit school or just drop dead? Which?”

Walter shook his head. “I don’t want nothing. I just want you to stop acting holy around here. Ruth and I have made some sacrifices for you, why can’t you do something for the family?”

Ruth didn’t like this conversation. She said, “Walter, don’t drag me into it.”

But Walter felt like Ruth was already in it. For the past three years, Ruth got up early every morning and went to work as a cook or a cleaner. The money that Ruth earned helped the whole family. Why didn’t Beneatha understand that she was old enough to help the family, too?

Walter was tired of Beneatha’s big plans. Mama was going to get a lot of money, and he didn’t think it should go to Beneatha’s school. “Who the hell told you that you had to be a doctor?” he said. “If you’re so crazy about helping sick people, then go be a nurse like other women. Or just get married and be quiet —”

Beneatha gave him a cold look. “Well, you finally said it. It took you three years, but you finally said it. Walter, give up. Leave me alone. It’s Mama’s money.”

“He was my father, too!” said Walter suddenly.

The money was from Walter and Beneatha’s father. Actually, it was from their father’s death.

“So what?” said Beneatha. “He was my father too, and Travis’s grandfather. But the insurance money belongs to Mama. Picking on me is not going to make her give it to you to invest in a liquor store.”

Ruth said again, “Honey, please go to work.”

Walter looked at the two women with a frown on his face. “Nobody here is ever going to understand me.” Walter finally left the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

Ruth looked from the door back to Beneatha. “Bennie, why are you always picking on your brother? Can’t you be a little sweeter sometimes?”

At that moment, the door opened again and Walter walked back in. He took his hat off and started to speak, then cleared his throat and looked around the room. He looked embarrassed.

Finally he said quietly, “I need some money for the bus.”

Ruth looked at him warmly. She smiled and said in a teasing voice, “Fifty cents?” She walked to her bag and took out a little money. “Here,” she said, “take a taxi!” She laughed a little.

Walter took the money, put his hat back on, and walked out the door again.