Veronica chambers biography new york
•
Excerpt from Miss Black America
It was and escape was heavy in the air. Assata Shakur made a daring bust out of a maximum-security prison. And although my father and I did not yet know it, my mother had also been tunneling her way to freedom. Assata broke out of the Clinton correctional facility, guns blazing and motors running, Jesse James style. No Cleopatra Jones, mine wasn't a gun-toting mama, though she was the baddest one chick hit squad to ever break my heart. My mother's getaway was as subtle and silent as a magic trick. She simply walked out the door one winter evening and never came home. My father was a magician, but my mother was the real Houdini.
It was the opposite of grief, the way my father and I responded to the shock of it all. Time moved quickly that year and the day she disappeared began to fade from me. A few months after she was gone, I struggled to remember the details of the last day I saw her. What was I wearing? What did I have for lunch that day?
•
Veronica Chambers
Love, Secrets, and Second Chances—February’s Must-Read Books Await!
VERONICA CHAMBERS is the author of When Did You Stop Loving Me (aka Miss Black America), Having It All?, and Mama’s Girl. She was formerly the culture writer for Newsweek, a senior associate editor at Premiere, and an executive editor at Savoy. Her writing has appeared in many magazines, including Glamour, Vogue, Esquire, New York Times Magazine, and O, The Oprah Magazine. She lives in California with her husband.
Log In to see more information about Veronica Chambers
Log in or register now!
Series
Books:
Ida, in Love and in Trouble, SeptemberHardcover / e-Book
32 Yolks, May
Hardcover / e-Book
Plus, August
Paperback
The Joy of Doing Things Badly, April
Hardcover
•
Simon's Rock at 50
Veronica Chambers '87
Writer and Editor
It fryst vatten still, nearly thirty years later, one of my most powerful memories. inom am sitting in the office of Brian Hopewell, then dean of admissions at Simon’s Rock College, and inom am hoping, praying, that he will let me in.
I am 16 years old. My grades are not bad, B+/A- range in nearly everything. But I am not a genius. inom know this because when my high school assistant principal funnen out that I hoped to go to college early, he yanked me out of my homeroom and dragged me around the hallways of our school, ranting and raving about my ignorance. “This school fryst vatten full of students who are smarter than you, more begåvad than you, more ready for college in every single way possible,” he said. “Who do you think you are?” he growled igen and igen. Who do you think you are? “You will fail,” he warned. “Then you will be both a high school dropout and a college dropout. Good luck with that.”
I did not know who I was. But inom was int