“September 1959. Three o’clock, Saturday afternoon.”
In Kevin Kruse’s history of integration in Atlanta in the latte half of the 20th century, he discusses how neighborhood began to first integrate (and then quickly segregate) because of boundary-creep, leading to voting blocks gaining power, and then leading to different kinds of white flight into other neighborhoods and suburbs. Once the the boundary was both successfully broken, and then held, it usually followed a generally familiar pattern. And of course, we’re all familiar with the ways in which white residents of the neighborhood would often turn to harassment campaigns, threats of violence, arson, and physical violence to try to force new, nonwhite residents from staying in their new home. The pattern, within a wide enough range, looked very similar across the US, city after city, North, South, Midwest, and West, with idiosyncratic (but not usually ideological) differences from place to place. And if you’ve Raisin in the Sun, you’re already familiar enough with Chicago and red-lining.
This play also takes place in a neighborhood in Chicago beginning in the 1950s, when the first Black family moves in, setting in motion the white reactionaries. But instead of focusing on the Black family this time, it begins with a white couple being the first to sell to a Black family. If the question is why focus on this story? It’s so that the second half of the play works, which focuses on a young white contemporary couple now moving into the predominantly Black neighborhood (same neighborhood, different decade) and planning on some significant changes to the house, reflecting the coming gentrification.
The play begins with a weird little conversation sparked by Neapolitan ice cream, leading to questions about what people from different cities are called, and exploring the idea of a prescribing kind residential status city by city. The play is kind of a satire, kind of a comedy of manners, and funny and witty (and sometimes biting).
