One week later, it was finally moving day. Beneatha and Ruth were finishing the packing. All of the family’s belongings were packed neatly into boxes. The women were working happily. The radio was on. Ruth was singing along to the jazz music. Earlier that morning she brought home some new curtains for the house.

“How do you know the window size?” asked Beneatha as she looked at the new curtains.

Ruth hadn’t thought of that. She frowned a little, then she shrugged. “They were on sale. I had to buy them. Look how beautiful they are.”

They kept working. Ruth asked Beneatha to label a box. It had Lena’s nice dishes in it. While Beneatha was writing “fragile” on the box, Ruth smiled and sang.

Then Ruth looked up happily and said, “Do you know what I’m going to do as soon as I get into that new house?”

“What?” asked Beneatha.

“I’m going to fill up a bathtub with water up to here,” Ruth put her fingers up to her chin, “and I’m going to get in it, and I am going to sit in the hot water. And the first person who tells me to hurry up will be in big trouble.”

Beneatha and Ruth laughed. In the new house, they would have a bathroom without the Johnsons. They would have a new, happier life. Ruth looked at Beneatha’s writing. The letters were very large.

“Honey,” said Ruth smiling, “they aren’t going to read that from an airplane!”

Beneatha looked at the big letters and laughed. “I guess I always think that things are more important if they are big.”

Ruth smiled at Beneatha. “You and your brother seem to have that as a philosophy of life. Bigger is better.” Ruth thought for a moment. Then she said, “That man has changed. Do you know what we did last night? Me and Walter Lee? We went to the movies. Do you know the last time we went to the movies together?”

Beneatha shook her head.

“I don’t know either,” said Ruth. “It was a long time ago. But we went last night. The movie wasn’t very good, but that didn’t matter. We went, and we held hands.”

When the movie had ended, Ruth and Walter left the movie theater. It had been dark and cold outside. They had walked home, holding hands and feeling happy together.

While Ruth was remembering her night with Walter, he walked into the apartment. He was carrying a large package. He looked very happy. He was singing and dancing a little bit. He smiled at his wife and sister. Life was good for Walter.

Ruth looked at Walter and laughed. Then Walter took her in his arms and they began to dance together. The three Youngers laughed and joked with each other. They were having a wonderful day.

Suddenly the doorbell rang. Ruth and Walter kept dancing, and Beneatha opened the door. Beneatha was surprised. There was a quiet-looking, middle-aged White man. He was wearing a business suit and he was holding his hat and a briefcase in his hand. He was also holding a small piece of paper.

He looked nervously at the young woman. “Uh, how do you do, miss. I’m looking for a Mrs…,” he looked at his little piece of paper, “Mrs. Lena Younger?”

Ruth and Walter were still dancing. The man looked at them nervously. Then he looked back at Beneatha.

“Oh, yes,” said Beneatha. She was a little embarrassed because Ruth and Walter didn’t notice the man. “That’s my mother. Excuse me.”

Beneatha closed the door and looked at Ruth and her brother. She said very quietly and nervously, “There’s a white man at the door!”

They stopped dancing and Ruth turned off the music. Then Beneatha opened the door again and invited the man to come into the apartment.

“Thank you,” he said.

Beneatha explained that Lena wasn’t there right now. “Is it business?” she asked.

“Yes,” replied the man, “well, sort of.”

Walter said, “Have a seat. I’m Mrs. Younger’s son.”

The man sat down and said nervously to Walter, “My name is Karl Lindner…”

Walter stretched out his hand and introduced himself politely. They shook hands, and Walter said, “This is my wife, and this is my sister. What can we do for you Mr. Linder?”

Walter and Ruth were still in a good mood, but Beneatha was nervous. Who was this man? Why was he here?

Lindner nervously put his briefcase and hat on his lap. “Well, I am a representative of the Clybourne Park Improvement Association—”

Walter saw Lindner fidgeting. He said politely, “Why don’t you put your things on the floor?”

“Oh, yes,” said Lindner with a nervous laugh. “Thank you.”

He put the briefcase and hat onto the floor and continued. “As I was saying, I am from the Clybourne Park Improvement Association. We know that your mother bought a house at 406 Clybourne Street.”

“That’s right,” said Walter. “Can I get you something to drink? Ruth, get Mr. Lindner a beer.”

Lindner was becoming more nervous. “No, no really. I mean thank you very much, but no thank you.”

“Some coffee?” asked Ruth.

“Thank you, nothing at all,” said Lindner.

Beneatha watched the man carefully. Lindner was a quiet, nervous-looking man. He was thoughtful and wanted to be careful about what he said. He continued, “Well, I don’t know how much you know about our organization. It is a community organization. We look after things like neighborhood cleaning and special projects. We also have a New Neighbors Orientation Committee.”

Beneatha said with a frown, “Yes, and what do they do?”

Lindner looked at her for a moment, then continued speaking to Walter. “It’s a welcoming committee. We go around and see the new people who move into the neighborhood and give them information about how we do things at Clybourne Park.” Lindner started to look very nervous. He continued, “We also have people who help with community problems…”

“What kind of problems?” asked Beneatha. She suspected that some of the White neighbors did not want a Black family to move into the neighborhood.

Walter was still relaxed. He said to his sister, “Girl, let the man talk.”

“Thank you,” said Lindner. “I would like to explain this thing in my own way. I am sure that you must know about some of the ‘incidents’ that have happened in the city when African American people move to certain areas.”

Beneatha exhaled heavily. This is what she expected. He was talking about violence against Black families.

Lindner quickly continued, “We are a peaceful neighborhood. We don’t want any bombings. We think it’s terrible.We think that most of the trouble in this world is because people don’t just sit down and talk to each other.”

Ruth nodded in agreement, “You can say that again, mister.”

Lindner was a little more confident. He said with a friendly smile, “We don’t try hard enough in this world to understand other peoples’ problems. The other person’s point of view.”

Ruth agreed, “That’s right.”

“Yes, that’s the way that we feel in Clybourne Park,” said Lindner. “And that’s why I am here to talk to you people. I want to be friendly with you, so we can work something out. Anybody can see that you are a nice family. You are hard-working and honest, I’m sure. But our neighborhood is made of people who worked hard to build the community. They aren’t rich or fancy. They’re hard-working, honest people who don’t have much in the world. They only have their homes. And they want their community to be a certain way. We aren’t perfect. But you have to admit that a man should decide what kind of neighborhood he has. And at the moment, the majority of the residents think that people get along better when they share a common background.”

He didn’t want to say it, but everyone knew what he was talking about. Most of the white residents didn’t want a Black family to live in the neighborhood. They didn’t want the Younger family to move into the house.

Mr. Lindner continued, “It’s not racism. The community just thinks that African American families are happier when they live in African American communities.”

Walter, Beneatha, and Ruth were disgusted. It was obviously racism. “This,” said Beneatha bitterly, “is the Welcoming Committee!”

Walter was shocked. “Is this what you came all the way over here to tell us?”

Lindner began to feel defensive. “Well, we have been having a nice conversation. I hope you will hear me all the way through.”

Walter told him to go ahead. He was angry and insulted. This man didn’t think Walter’s family belonged in his neighborhood. Even though he sounded polite, Lindner was saying hateful things.

“We are prepared to offer your family some money,” said Lindner. “We want to buy the house from you. We want to pay you more than you already paid.”

“Lord have mercy!” said Ruth, shocked and embarrassed.

“Are you finished?” asked Walter sharply.

“I want to tell you exactly how much—” started Lindner, but Walter interrupted him.

“We aren’t interested. Get out of my house, man,” Walter said.

Lindner picked up his hat and briefcase. He looked at the Younger family. They were clearly very upset. “Well,” he said a little sadly, “I don’t understand why you are reacting this way. Why do you want to move into a neighborhood that doesn’t want you? It could be dangerous—”

“Get out,” said Walter again.

“Well,” said Lindner as he held out his business card. “I’m sorry that it went like this.”

“Get out,” repeated Walter.

Lindner looked at Walter sadly. “You can’t force people to change their hearts, son,” he said. Lindner set his business card on the table. It had his name and telephone number. Then he turned and went out the door.

Walter pushed the door closed behind Lindner. The Youngers looked at the door with anger. Ruth sat down, but Walter and Beneatha kept standing. They stood there for a long time, not saying anything.