If you grew up watching broadcast news — even inadvertently, as it played in the background — Connie Chung is a face and name you’ll probably remember. As the first Asian American woman to break into television news in the late ’60s, she blazed the trail for women, and specifically Asian women, in the world of broadcast. Best known for her coverage of the Watergate scandal, securing exclusive interviews with celebrities and political figures alike, and becoming the first Asian to anchor any news program in the US, Chung’s career as a news anchor and reporter has inspired countless women in the field. But she was also a constant presence in many households.
For Asian American families in the ’70s through the ’90s, her visibility was so impactful that many named their daughters Connie after Chung, a phenomenon dubbed “Generation Connie” in a New York Times feature by journalist and author Connie Wang. Chung only learned of this when Wang reached out to her in 2020.
I didn’t have any idea that I was even making a mark.
“I didn’t have any idea that I was even making a mark,” Chung says. “I didn’t know if anybody was watching or listening, because it’s a one-way communication on television. I just plowed forward. I kept striving. I was driven to reach the next rung of the ladder. It’s very Chinese and it’s what women do, too. I put my nose to the ground and I just did my job.”
It was realizing her legacy and discovering letters from her father, in which he had drafted pages of a memoir of his own, that inspired her to write “Connie: A Memoir” ($29, originally $33), out on Sept. 17. “I came across this letter in which he said to me, ‘Maybe someday you can tell the story about the Chung family and how they came to the United States,'” she says. “But also I thought, maybe I should write my memoir because I’ve been underground for about 20 years. I haven’t come out in public in ages, so I thought, let me give it a shot.”
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Chung’s memoir indeed begins with her family history, and throughout the course of more than 300 pages, she details her path to broadcast journalism, her storied career, the unconventional path that led to her 40-year marriage with Maury Povich, and her journey to motherhood.
Ahead, Chung delves into some of the poignant stories she tells in her memoir, including navigating racism and sexism in the workplace, experiencing sexual abuse, and becoming a mother.
PS: It doesn’t always feel very natural for Asians and Asian Americans to talk so openly and be vulnerable about the things you are in your memoir, like family dynamics, sexism, and racism. Was it hard for you to open up?
Connie Chung: I wrote what is commonly called the shitty first draft. I submitted it to my publisher and the editor said, “You’re just giving me the facts,” and I said, “Yeah, that’s what I do” and she said, “No, this is a memoir. You have to tell everybody how you feel, how you felt, what you were experiencing.” And I thought, oh my God, I had no idea what I had embarked on. I had to dig deep.
It was really hard. Although, I knew which stories I would tell. I just didn’t know how I could tell it. In other words, the ups and the downs were very delicate to deal with.
PS: In your memoir, you write about how in an industry dominated by white men, you just acted like one yourself. And readers learn it was actually your father who planted that seed. Can you tell me about that?
CC: My father liked to write letters to all five daughters. And in one of them, he had written to me, “Maybe you could carry on the Chung name.” My parents had 10 children, and of them, five died as infants because infant mortality was extremely high in China. Nine of them were born in China, and I was the only one born in the United States. I was number 10. Of those five infants who died, three were boys. And you know as well as I do that boys are coveted [in Chinese society]. Girls are not considered worthwhile because they can’t carry on the family name.
So, I actually took him seriously because I was heavy into filial piety and being so dutiful. I thought, maybe I can do that. Maybe I can carry the Chung name forward, the way a son would by making it known. I certainly didn’t necessarily think I had done that, but now, after I wrote the book and the Connie generation was revealed to me, I’m thinking good gosh, maybe.
PS: You talk about balancing the “good girl” and “bad girl” act, and how you combatted these racist and sexist encounters with men. You write, “I did it to him before he could do it to me.” When you look back at those moments, was that difficult for you or rather empowering?
CC: I was very quick. I don’t know how I became so quick but at the same time, I was very sassy. I had a potty mouth. I was bawdy. And it was not planned, but I made a concerted effort to just lob a shocking one to the man who I could tell was just about to say something pretty sexist. What I say is, I could see the sperm swimming in the whites of their eyes. And all of us, all women, we’ve seen that look and it’s like, get away from me. Not in your dreams. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. Don’t even think about it. I could see it, so I just hit ’em with an uppercut and it was loads of fun because the creep was left speechless.
They just knew that I could get to the bad side faster and funnier than they could, so they wouldn’t mess with me.
I don’t know if they respected me. They just knew that I could get to the bad side faster and funnier than they could, so they wouldn’t mess with me. In other words, I wanted them to leave me alone, let me do my work. I don’t think it would necessarily work today. That’s how I navigated it. Not all women navigated it that way. I didn’t want to be called the B word, a diva, anything like that. So I took it upon myself to call them names that they didn’t like, either.
To this day, I personally would like to be seen as just a journalist. I’m a woman and I’m Asian, but I would dearly love it as if I could be seen as a journalist.
PS: You also write about being sexually molested by your family doctor, which you first publicly shared in an op-ed for The Washington Post in a letter to Christine Blasey Ford. Why was it important to you to share that a few years back, and include this experience in your book now? You write it was the first time you “became a participant of the news.”
CC: It’s so common that women are subjected to some kind of molestation by some man who thinks he has power over us. Me, I was molested by the family doctor who actually delivered me. How unbelievably obnoxious is that? When Christine Blasey Ford testified against Brett Kavanaugh before the House Judiciary Committee during his confirmation hearing to be accepted on the US Supreme Court, she told her story. And people didn’t believe her. They didn’t believe that it happened and I couldn’t believe it. And I wanted everyone to know that the details actually don’t matter. What day it was, what day of the week it was. whose house it was, what time of year it was, winter, summer, spring, fall. Those details are not worthy for our memory. What we remember is what happened and who did it, and we can’t forget that.
When I wrote the op-ed, I thought, If I have any credibility left after being a journalist, believe me, I know, I can tell that she is giving the details that she knows to be true. Don’t doubt her veracity. I can’t tell you how many emails I got from friends and family who said, “Yeah, me too.” It’s incredibly common. And we all keep these dirty little secrets for years and years and years. So that’s why I just felt so strongly that Christine Blasey Ford should not have been doubted.
PS: You write about being asked, when your CBS program was canceled, to use starting a family as an excuse for the cancellation and as a result, “the media had a field day.” What was it like to experience that media attention while going through this difficult fertility journey behind the scenes?
CC: I don’t think it would happen today, the way it did. But I became sort of the poster child for older women trying to have a baby. I didn’t know at the time exactly what was wrong because I was on this mission to have a baby. It was horrible to see myself on the cover of People magazine saying, “I want a baby.” I just cringed. They’re a wonderful magazine, I understand their business. But I didn’t mean for it to be a big deal.
But I was very lucky. It all turned out perfectly for me because we adopted our son, Matthew, when he was less than a day old. And it was right after I was fired from my dream job, co-anchor of the “CBS Evening News.” I really believe that it was meant to be. I had things in different order from many women. I did it upside down and inside out, but it was perfect for me. I had a thriving career and then I was able to concentrate on my son and raise him, and I think he’s a pretty good guy. I couldn’t be happier, really.
Yerin Kim is the features editor at POPSUGAR, where she helps shape the vision for special features and packages across the network. A graduate of Syracuse University’s Newhouse School, she has over five years of experience in the pop culture and women’s lifestyle spaces. She’s passionate about spreading cultural sensitivity through the lenses of lifestyle, entertainment, and style.
