Holdsclaw and her Grandmother
J & K Doggette
York under the love and discipline of her grandmother. Nice piece of
journalism.
LadyVols01
Playing by the rules
Chamique's Grandma June raised a champion
By Maria M. Cornelius, News-Sentinel metro editor
<Picture: 0830chamique2-mb.jpg (12366 bytes)>
Chamique, left, shares a laugh with her grandmother June, in the living room of
their apartment after seeing a picture of Chamique in high school. The "Rocky
Top romp" photo on the wall behind Chamique is from a newspaper in Charlotte,
N.C. when the Lady Vols won the 1996 NCAA women's basketball title. June has
attended all three of Chamique's Final Fours -- in 1996, '97 and '98. Photo by
Byron E. Small, News-Sentinel staff
QUEENS, N.Y. -- June Holdsclaw sat in her bedroom gazing at the television and
wiping tears from her eyes.
Her granddaughter, Chamique Holdsclaw, was playing in early June with the U.S.
women's national team in Germany, and the championship game was being broadcast
live from Berlin.
Chamique, 21, who's regarded as the best women's basketball player in the
country, is back for her senior year at the University of Tennessee and is
expected to lead the Lady Vols to a fourth straight NCAA championship.
From her apartment in Astoria in Queens, N.Y., June, 61, has watched her
granddaughter on television on many occasions but never wept. To understand why
she did this time, you have to realize how much the grandmother sacrificed, how
hard the granddaughter worked and how far they both have come.
THE BEGINNING
June Elaine was the third of 13 children born to Isom and Nettie Barber of
Camden, Ala., in Wilcox County. She played forward for the Camden Academy High
School basketball team and developed a lifelong love of sports, especially
basketball, football and track.
She was born Nov. 24, 1936, and came of age in the 1950s, before the social
upheaval of the '60s.
"The little town I was from, we all got along," June said.
She married Thurman Holdsclaw of North Carolina in 1956 after meeting him
through some friends in Alabama. In 1965, they moved to Queens, where he worked
for a state hospital and then for the U.S. Postal Service. In 1967 June
Holdsclaw began working in medical records, first at Mount Sinai Medical Center
and later for the city of New York. She now works for the medical records
department of Jamaica Hospital in New York and will retire at the end of the
year after she turns 62.
The Holdsclaws, who later divorced, have three children: Thurman Jr., who died
in 1995 at the age of 29 in a car accident; Anita, 35, who survived an
operation on a benign brain tumor when she was 18, graduated from a college in
New York and is employed as a case worker for the city; and Bonita, 40, who
works in data entry for the city, is taking college courses and lives on Staten
Island, N.Y.
June has lived in Astoria Houses in Queens since 1965. She raised her children
there and in 1988 took in Chamique, then 11, and her brother Davon, then 9, the
children of Bonita Holdsclaw and William Johnson.
The three-bedroom apartment is filled with trophies and full-page framed copies
of newspaper articles extolling Chamique's accomplishments on the basketball
court. The coffee table in the small living room has a basketball as a
centerpiece -- signed by her teammates and coach and given to Chamique to
commemorate her 2,000th point at Christ the King High School in Queens, which
she led to four state championships and a national title.
Chamique's weathered and tattered NCAA Rawlings basketball, which she carried
to the nearby courts countless times, rests atop an umbrella stand.
An end table and two shelves hold photographs of June's children and
grandchildren, including Kassala, 4, and Thurman Holdsclaw III, 3, the children
of Thurman Holdsclaw Jr., and his wife, Stacy Holdsclaw. He was a teacher on an
American Indian reservation in Montana and was on his way to referee a
basketball game when the car accident claimed his life.
"So many memories in this apartment," June said.
ASTORIA HOUSES
To get to Astoria Houses, take the Grand Central Parkway to Astoria Boulevard
-- a long thoroughfare lined with hair salons, antique stores, flea markets,
grocery markets, loan and real estate offices, delis, fast-food restaurants,
diners, liquor stores and a funeral home -- until it dead-ends into the
sprawling complex of brick high-rises.
June lives in a six-story building with a ground-floor lobby. An old elevator
rattles its way through the shaft. The hallways are narrow and dimly lit.
Astoria Houses, with mature trees, wooden benches and a children's flower
garden, is positioned along the East River. The skyline of Manhattan rises on
the other side of the river.
"Yes, it is the projects," June said, and the area has its share of shootings
and drug dealing. "But it's some good people who live here -- working people."
For the kids, the New York Police Department runs the Police Athletic League on
the ground floor of one building. The Community Center of Astoria is on the
other side of the complex, another youth outreach program.
On a recent August day, the walkways between the buildings were teeming with
children roller-blading and riding bicycles. A few were pushing purloined
grocery carts as fast as they could before jumping on to ride.
About a length-of-the-floor pass from June's building are the basketball
courts.
CHAMIQUE'S ARRIVAL
Chamique Shaunta Holdsclaw, born Aug. 9, 1977, in Flushing, N.Y., came to live
with her grandmother in May 1988. Her brother, Davon, who will turn 18 this
week, joined them a few months later.
Their parents were splitting up, and the children needed a more stable home.
"It wasn't working out for them. They didn't get along," June said. "That's a
part of life -- people split up, one goes one way, one goes the other. ... When
there's a lot of stress in the home, kids shouldn't be there."
Chamique and Davon had visited with their grandmother for several years on
weekends, during the summer and over holidays.
"We were very close," June said.
Davon returned home to his mother two years later, but Chamique, who continued
to visit her mother on a regular basis, decided to stay in Astoria Houses with
her grandmother.
"My grandmother was older and wiser," said Chamique, who calls her "Grandma."
"She put a lot of restrictions on me. I kind of liked it."
June said her granddaughter was well-behaved and only got into trouble twice --
both times involving basketball.
The first episode occurred near the end of her seventh-grade year at I.S. 126
in the public school system.
"I didn't fit in good with the kids," Chamique said.
The girls at the school called her a "flat leaver," because when school was out
she would "flat leave" them to go play basketball with the boys, Chamique said.
So one day the 12-year-old decided to skip school and head straight for the
nearby courts at Astoria Park. She did this for three consecutive days.
Chamique usually walked to and from school, but on this particular day her
grandmother came to pick her up. She was told rather nonchalantly that her
granddaughter had not been in school for several days.
June, who had not been notified by the school -- as required -- that Chamique
was absent, said she "got everybody crazy" -- the principal, the teacher and
finally the New York Board of Education.
"That got it straightened out," June said. "I was upset with her because of the
danger of it. She was so young ... shooting hoops up there by herself."
Said Chamique, "It never happened again."
Besides attending school, June Holdsclaw had one other rule: On Sundays,
Chamique was to go with her to Trinity Lutheran Church in Queens. If she
didn't, Chamique couldn't play basketball that afternoon.
One Sunday, when she was about 14, Chamique didn't go to church. She slipped
off to the courts, thinking she could get back inside before her grandmother
got home.
"Sunday was the big day," Chamique said. "Everybody was out playing on Sunday."
June returned and walked right past the court where Chamique -- the only girl
among boys -- was playing ball. June went inside and changed out of her Sunday
clothes.
"She came out waving her shoe," said Chamique, gesturing with her hand and
still remembering the sight of her grandmother approaching. "She made me come
in. To this day some of (my friends) remember it."
Said June, "I embarrassed her in front of her friends. She didn't like it. She
was really, really hurt. She didn't say anything for a while. (Later that
afternoon) she said she was sorry and wouldn't do it again."
Chamique says now she is thankful for her grandmother's rules and structure.
She also is thankful for her grandmother's calm method of discipline.
"We would sit there and talk about things" to straighten out matters, Chamique
said.
That doesn't mean Chamique didn't know how to try to bend the rules.
"She loved television," said June, who didn't want "to see kids doing nothing"
and encouraged reading books. "We used to fall out over television, (but) I
would fall asleep so she would (sometimes) watch what she wanted."
But besides the rare unauthorized trips to the courts and watching TV without
permission, Chamique was a quiet, polite child who obeyed rules and respected
her grandmother.
"Chamique's old-fashioned," June said. "They say that comes from being raised
by me. I set a time for her to be home. If we say we're going to have dinner at
a certain time, she had to be there. ... You see girls outside all night
talking and talking. You never saw Chamique doing that. Chamique always knew
what she wanted."
What she wanted was simple: to play basketball.
PRIVATE SCHOOL
June decided Chamique needed a good education. Disenchanted with New York's
public school system, she sought to have her granddaughter placed in a private
school.
Chamique passed an entrance test and was admitted to Queen Lutheran School. She
finished middle school there and passed another test to gain admittance to
Christ the King High School. Chamique was aware of its reputation in basketball
and wanted to go there. June knew her granddaughter would get an education.
By now, "I was used to paying school bills," June said. "I said, 'OK, we can
swing it.'"
The grandmother paid the tuition and bought Chamique's school uniforms:
button-down shirts and two skirts -- "a gray one and a preppy one that she
never wore; she always wore the gray one."
The private school tuition "was a sacrifice," June said. "I always would manage
money pretty well. We lived on a budget. I always had a job and (sometimes
worked) part time, too. It was worth it.
"Being raised in the country, you learn how to do a lot of things. You learn
how to save."
Vincent Cannizzaro, the girls' basketball coach at Christ the King who also
works for the inspector general's office for the state of New York, said, "I
believe Chamique understands what a sacrifice her grandmother made -- sacrifice
in a sense you're bringing up a child, coming to games. June was there for her.
... I think Chamique is very much aware how important her grandmother was to
her."
HOMEWORK & HOOPS
<Picture: 0830chamique3-bs.jpg (6395 bytes)>
Chamique signs autographs for children in Astoria Houses in Queens, N.Y.
Despite running late for a workout, Chamique signed for all the kids. Photo by
Byron E. Small, News-Sentinel staff
Chamique said she did three things while growing up: attend school, complete
her homework and head for the basketball courts. She played in the winter, in
the rain. During the summer, she played six to eight hours a day. She earned
her way onto the court with guys, honing her game and molding herself into one
of the best to play on the streets of New York.
She developed a soft fall-away jumper that couldn't be blocked, spin moves in
the lane, an awareness of the game that only comes from countless time spent on
the court. She also turned into a competitor. In street ball, if your team
lost, you sat. The only way to keep playing was to win.
June said her son, Thurman Jr., who was called "T," gave Chamique her first
basketball when she was 4 years old. Thurman Jr., who played basketball for
Rice High School in Manhattan, used to carry his niece on his shoulders to the
courts.
When she was a young girl, Chamique made a hoop out of a clothes hanger, rolled
up a sock and would "shoot, shoot, shoot," June said.
She first began playing organized basketball in the eighth grade at Queen
Lutheran School.
"They used to call her 'Skinny,'" said June, pointing to a photograph of a
tall, gangly youngster dribbling down court for her middle school team. She
went on to high school, becoming Christ the King's all-time leading scorer and
rebounder and an All-American, among a host of other honors. She was named New
York City's player of the year for three consecutive years, a feat unmatched by
any male or female player.
By the time Chamique was a senior, she was being heavily recruited by the top
women's basketball programs in the country, including Tennessee, Connecticut,
Louisiana Tech and Virginia.
THE VISITS
In September 1994, UT coaches Pat Summitt and Mickie DeMoss were the first to
make a home visit to the Holdsclaw residence. They were nervous because UT had
never before tried to sign aplayer from New York. They thought convincing her
to come to Knoxville was going to be difficult.
Chamique and her grandmother were nervous because this was the first official
visit. Chamique wanted everything to be perfect.
"She worked so hard to impress them, because Chamique's no housekeeper," June
said laughing. "She was so nervous. She had everything in place."
June said she immediately took to the two coaches. She opened her apartment
door to the tiny DeMoss and the tall, imposing Summitt.
"I didn't know Pat's eyes were so pretty," June said. "I went to the door and
said, 'Oh, a model.' (And) Mickie is a little doll."
The four sat in the living room. June listened intently. She didn't want to
hear about how good a basketball player Chamique was or how much playing time
she would get. The grandmother wanted to know about discipline and academics.
DeMoss said team discipline was stressed.
"We sell that fact," the coach said. "We use it as a positive."
When the coaches discussed a curfew, Chamique wondered if that meant she had to
be in by 10 p.m.
According to DeMoss, the grandmother interjected, "Chamique, that's the rule.
It doesn't matter if it's 9 p.m."
"If you've got discipline," June told the coaches, "that's all I need to know."
The grandmother is "a very soft-spoken woman, very low key," DeMoss said. "But
when she does speak, it's a very wise thing that she says."
Besides a disciplined program, the coaches had one other factor in their favor
-- they were from the South. Summitt is a native Tennessean; DeMoss is
originally from Louisiana.
Said June, "I love Southern women. There is something about them I like. I'm
from the South. I trust them more. Everything they told me ... everything they
told Chamique has been truthful -- playing time, keeping your grades up. They
said, 'Chamique, you have to earn everything you get.'"
She also wanted to ensure someone was watching after her granddaughter.
Summitt acknowledged that June "was very instrumental" in Chamique's decision
to attend UT.
"I could sense she had a comfort level with us, to take care of" her
granddaughter, Summitt said. "She was looking for a home away from home."
There were more home visits from other college coaches. One made quite an
impression on June, but it wasn't a good one.
Chamique declined to identify the school but said her grandmother dozed off
during the visit.
"I looked over, and she was asleep," Chamique said, laughing.
"My grandmother doesn't like people who say 'Chamique this' and 'Chamique
that.' She doesn't want to hear it."
Coaches from other schools were telling Chamique she would be a starter.
Summitt told her she had to earn her playing time.
June "was very attentive" when Summitt and DeMoss visited, Chamique said, still
laughing as she recounted the story. "She was sitting up and listening to what
they had to say."
THE TRIP
Chamique and her grandmother visited the Knoxville campus in October 1994. The
coaches had insisted June make the trip with her granddaughter.
June knew of Knoxville. Several of her family members and friends from her
hometown in Alabama went to Knoxville College. She had never been to Knoxville
but pictured it as "a nice little town," she said.
They arrived the weekend of the UT-Alabama football game.
"I've never seen that many people (at a football game) in all the days of my
life," June said. "I was shocked when I got there. It was larger than what I
thought."
She wanted her granddaughter to get an education, attend a university in the
South -- "to see people, how they act, their culture" -- and live in "a small
little town." She settled for two out of three. Chamique settled on Tennessee
because of its winning tradition. She also had played AAU ball in the summer
with then-UT players Tiffani Johnson and Laurie Milligan.
"I knew Tennessee would provide the best place to play for a national
championship," Chamique said.
By the time they arrived back in New York, Chamique seemed to sense she wanted
to attend UT after graduating from high school in June 1995, June said.
June said she heard some rumblings from acquaintances about her granddaughter
not staying closer to home.
"People talked about it, (saying) 'Why'd you let her go down there?'" June
said. "I didn't want her that close to home. I wanted her to be on her own."
THE SUMMER
Chamique spent the summers of 1996 and 1997 taking classes at UT and working at
Summitt's basketball camps.
This summer, Chamique returned to Astoria. June has a herniated disk in her
back and is facing surgery next week. She postponed it so she could spend time
with her granddaughter while she was home.
"I didn't want to be in the hospital while she was here," June said.
Chamique returned to the playgrounds of her youth and worked on her game with
the guys. She played until 1 a.m. some nights and said she learned some new
moves on the court.
Children would come courtside to watch and ask, "Is that the girl on TV?"
Chamique said.
She worked out four times a week for several hours a day at an exercise club in
Manhattan to get in shape for the 1998-99 season.
She celebrated her 21st birthday Aug. 9 while at home.
Her grandmother still falls asleep watching television but instead of watching
surreptitiously, the granddaughter turns it off. Chamique says it feels good to
be home with her grandmother and "know she is there."
"It's been wonderful having her home," June said.
A stroll through Astoria Houses with Chamique and her grandmother one warm
August afternoon brings dozens of well-wishers and autograph-seekers, mostly
children. Chamique, despite the championships and constant attention, is still
shy and soft-spoken. She is shocked at how often she is recognized.
"I never thought it would be like this in New York City," said Chamique, who's
pictured in a New York Knicks uniform on the cover of the latest issue of SLAM
magazine, a national publication dedicated to the hoops scene. "I go to
Manhattan, I go to Nike Town, they recognize me."
June has seen this before. When she came to visit her granddaughter in
Knoxville last season, they went to Kroger at 4918 Kingston Pike. Lady Vols
fans were stopping Chamique in the aisles to chat and get autographs.
"These were older ladies, like my age," June said. "She signed so nice. She
talked to them."
Chamique said she is approached by people seeking autographs everywhere she
goes in Knoxville, whether she is dining out with teammates or her boyfriend or
out shopping.
"I like to go shop in the mall, (and) I'm not going to stop that," said
Chamique, though she conceded the constant attention can be overwhelming.
Shopping is apparently a habit honed at a young age.
One Saturday before Easter when Chamique was about 4 years old, June was
shopping for Sunday outfits for her granddaughter and a nephew. She selected
the boy's outfit without any trouble.
Chamique immediately saw what she liked at Macy's -- a checkered jacket,
blue-and-white dress and white hat.
"She saw it first; she knew what she wanted (even) at that age," June said.
But the outfit was expensive, so they kept shopping. However, Chamique was not
satisfied with any other choices.
"I went to a lot of stores" that day, June said. "I was trying to get something
cheaper."
Finally, after a full day of shopping in New York, they returned to Macy's for
the outfit.
"She always wanted the most expensive thing in the store," June said. "She
thought because she wanted it, she had to have it."
Chamique's "been like that since she was little ... shop, shop, shop. And I
hate to shop. Well, I could shop for shoes a lot. But clothes? I don't have the
patience."
THE FAMILY
The grandmother has traveled to Knoxville to attend some games and has been to
all three Final Fours -- 1996 in Charlotte, N.C.; 1997 in Cincinnati; and 1998
in Kansas City, Mo.
"When my grandmother comes to Knoxville, everyone wants to talk to her. No one
wants to talk to me. I feel neglected," Chamique said, laughing.
In Kansas City, some people even asked June for her autograph, having her sign
their seat cushions.
Chamique's mother, Bonita, also has watched her daughter play basketball and
attended the Final Four in Kansas City. Chamique said there was some tension
between them when she decided to stay with her grandmother 10 years ago, but
they have established a good relationship.
"Me and my mom have like a friendship relationship," Chamique said. "I can call
my mother and talk to her. ... We're so much alike."
Chamique's father, William Johnson, lives in Manhattan and works as an
automobile mechanic.
"My dad has always been there for me and my brother," she said. "He's very
involved."
She said he visits them both and provides a male figure for her younger
brother.
"That's very important for him," Chamique said.
The family will get together over the Christmas holidays, the next time
Chamique returns to Astoria. UT plays Rutgers Jan. 3 in Madison Square Garden,
which should be a homecoming of sorts for the New York native.
THE FUTURE
June sent her granddaughter away to college to grow up, and now she's almost
ready for her to return to New York.
There are two women's professional leagues -- the ABL and the WNBA -- and it's
no secret Chamique wants to play. There's talk about million-dollar shoe and
clothing endorsements to go with a pro contract. Her grandmother hopes she gets
drafted by the New York Liberty of the WNBA so she can be near her again.
Chamique won't say which league she prefers, but she has an obvious affinity
for New York City.
"Of course, it would be ideal for me to play here," Chamique said.
Chamique could have left school early and joined the pro ranks this year, but
her grandmother refused to allow it. She also doesn't expect Chamique to take
care of her financially.
"I don't expect anything from her," June said. "I'll have my own pension. I can
spend my own money. I don't know if I would move or not. I've lived here 33
years.
"People on the job were saying, 'Why don't you let Chamique go pro?' I said,
'Not over my dead body.'"
A New York Times article last spring outlined the amount of money Chamique
could make and suggested she could help her grandmother.
"They had wrote the story I was so poor," said an obviously peeved June. "I'm
poor, but I'm working poor. Whoever wrote that, I wanted to pop them over the
head.
"Money is not everything. If she makes money with basketball, fine. If she
doesn't make money with basketball, she can go on to something else she likes."
Chamique is majoring in political science. If she doesn't play professional
ball, she is interested in being a sports agent.
"First and foremost, I am a student," Chamique said.
She will leave UT next spring with the one thing promised to her grandmother --
a degree. June said she will attend the commencement ceremony.
"That's the only thing she owes me -- get that college education," she said.
THE GOOD-BYE
<Picture: 0830chamique-bs.jpg (8919 bytes)>
June Holdsclaw bestows a kiss on granddaughter Chamique as she prepares to
return to Knoxville for her senior year at the University of Tennessee. Photo
by Byron E. Small, News-Sentinel staff
Chamique left Astoria on Aug. 20 to return to Tennessee. She rode back with her
roommate, Zakiah Modeste, a UT track athlete who lives in New York.
It was obvious her grandmother is going to miss her. She also knows her
granddaughter is embarking on her final year in college. She knows Chamique's
life is going to change rapidly after graduation. She will leave the rather
insulated environment of collegiate athletics for the harsher spotlight of
professional sports.
"I think I can cope with it if she's doing what she wants to do," June said the
day before Chamique left. "You have to let it go."
At 7:10 a.m., Chamique loaded the last of her duffel bags into the car. Both
grandmother and granddaughter wiped tears from their eyes. They hugged and said
good-bye.
Later that day, June is fretting like a grandmother.
"I know she had to go," she said. "I just wish the summer would have been
different. I don't think she got enough rest."
Chamique will call her grandmother this school year to talk and for support.
"We never talk about basketball," Chamique said. "She'll say, 'Have you been to
church? Are you eating right? You look skinny.'"
The calls home provide a respite from the demands on Chamique's time and
coaches' and fans' expectations on and off the court.
"You need a break from the hype," she said.
Chamique will have a puppy for companionship in Knoxville, a male golden
labrador called Rolex, named after the makers of the watch.
But she knows she will miss her grandmother.
"Probably a lot," she said.
THE GAME
June will watch the televised Lady Vols games this season on the TV in her room
near the bed.
It is unlikely any game she watches this season will affect her like the one
she watched June 7. Chamique was a member of the U.S. national team, which was
playing Russia in the gold-medal match in the Women's World Basketball
Championships in Berlin.
June thought of the young girl shooting hoops outside with the boys, the skinny
child leading her middle school team.
"I never thought it would come to this," June said.
"When I see her on television, when I saw her in Germany, I cried. I said, 'I
can't believe this is my grandchild.'"
Chamique was the youngest player on a team of veterans with years of combined
international experience. Her grandmother realized then how far Chamique had
come and how much she had helped her get there.
"To raise someone from 11 years old and to accomplish a lot. ... It makes you
feel good. ... I was so excited.
"My God, this child came from Astoria, and now look at her in Germany."
With tears flowing, the grandmother watched the gold medal ceremony after the
United States won 71-65 and saw Chamique and her teammates celebrating on the
victory stand.
"I've been to games. I've watched games on TV. I've been running behind
Chamique since the eighth grade.
"It was the joy. ... Chamique had grown up."