A Raisin in the Sun: A Retelling

Your Name
Subject and Section
Professor’s Name
September 29, 2020
A Raisin in the Sun: A Retelling
A man named Walter Lee Younger staggered home from a drinking session with his buddies. As he marched, or instead, fumbled, through the dirty, soot-colored, and garbage-littered streets of South Side Chicago, his mind wandered to other places.
As my legs carried me, I daydreamed of better days, of living in quaint suburban neighborhoods alongside quaint suburban neighbors, the kind of folks that give you apple pie on the first day you move in. I daydreamed of landing a high-profile job, of escaping from my dead-end pigeonhole work as a chauffeur. The alcohol pulsed and raced through my body as my mind pulsed and raced, equally quick, to greener pastures, where my wife and I could have our own prominent place to call home and not share a cramped, dingy apartment with my sister and mother.
I took familiar turns left and right and without knowing, arrived at my apartment building. The dim light of the hallway met me, the cobwebs swaying in the corners of the walls waved me hello. I saw the bathroom that my family shared with another living across the hall, the poor state of it, and the attempts of both families to keep it humane and usable.
As I came to the door of their apartment, I heard something from inside, someone chanting and singing. It dawned upon me that it had been some time since I attended or listened to music, actually heard music, feeling the beat and rhythm that came along with the song. The liquor in my system eased me into the strange melody that I heard from inside. I opened the door, and I saw my sister, Beneatha, the sist...