Connie Chung’s illustrious career began with a bold move. As she recounts, “I barged into a local TV station and told them, ‘I can learn. I don’t have experience, but I can do this job.’…When you’re young and unaware of limitations, you push forward as if you know exactly what you’re doing.” Her tenacity and determination are central themes in her upcoming memoir Connie, set to be published on Tuesday.
Now, in her Montana home, where she enjoys a peaceful life with her husband of nearly four decades, Maury Povich, a legendary figure in daytime television, Chung reflects on her remarkable four-decade-long career.
Maury, who was rising in the news industry when they met, recalls how Connie first landed a newsroom job. “She wanted a position, but the news director told her, ‘No, you’ll be my assistant.’ Connie responded, ‘No, I want the job of weekend writer at the news desk.’ He told her she’d need to find her replacement if she wanted that role. So, she left the newsroom, crossed the street into a bank, and asked the first female teller she saw, ‘Do you want to be in TV?’ She brought the teller back to the newsroom, hired her as the new assistant, and got the job.”
Her breakthrough came when she captured CBS News’ attention after boldly entering a restaurant under investigation for health violations, camera crew in tow. “As fate would have it, the CBS bureau chief was dining there. He saw me, handed me his card, and said, ‘Call me,’” Chung recounted.
In 1971, Connie joined CBS News’ Washington bureau, which she described as “a sea of men.” To survive in this male-dominated world, she adopted a tough demeanor: “I decided I’d act like one of the guys. I exuded confidence, walking into rooms as if I owned them.” She even developed a reputation for her bold, unexpected comments that challenged the prevalent sexist and racist attitudes. “I was known for saying things that shocked them, but I don’t recommend using bad language. It was just my way of surviving in that ‘snake pit,’” she admitted.
Connie’s ambition didn’t stop there. When NBC sought someone to anchor a brief news segment before the Today show, she seized the opportunity but also negotiated for more: “I told them I’d do that, but I also wanted to report political stories for Tom Brokaw’s Nightly News, anchor the Saturday Night News, and deliver Newsbreaks at 9 and 10 p.m. It made sleeping tough, but I wanted it all.”
When asked by journalist Jane Pauley about how her American and Chinese identities shaped her, Chung explained, “I’m a blend of American opportunity and Chinese duty. I was raised to always do the right thing, to be respectful, and to work hard.”
Reflecting on her drive for success, Chung described it as a mix of ambition and cultural expectations: “The drive to succeed was part of who I am. It was a combo of being American and Chinese.”
In the fiercely competitive world of television, securing high-profile interviews, or The Get, was crucial. Chung’s relentless pursuit of these opportunities set her apart. In November 1991, when NBA legend Magic Johnson announced he had tested positive for HIV, she refused to leave his agent’s office until she secured an interview. She also famously interviewed the captain of the Exxon Valdez following the infamous Alaska oil spill.
While her exclusive interviews elevated her profile, some stories, such as the Tonya Harding skating scandal and sensational documentaries like Life in the Fat Lane, took a toll on her reputation. “It was one story after another, and I just didn’t have the power to say no. I deeply regret that,” Chung confessed.
Raised by “very, very traditional” Chinese parents, Connie was the youngest of five daughters and the only one born in the U.S. Her father, determined that she would carry on the Chung name, treated her as the son he never had. She not only met but exceeded his expectations, achieving her dream of co-anchoring the CBS Evening News alongside Dan Rather in 1993.
However, her tenure as co-anchor wasn’t smooth sailing. Chung likened it to a scene from the classic Bette Davis film All About Eve: “There’s a line where she says, ‘Fasten your seat belts, it’s going to be a bumpy night.’ That’s how I felt, like I was in for a rough ride.” After just two years, she was let go—a moment that left her feeling “absolutely crushed.”
But life had a different kind of success waiting for her. Just days after losing her anchor position, Chung and Povich welcomed their adopted son, Matthew, after years of failed fertility treatments. “Matthew came into our lives when he was less than a day old,” Chung shared. “He never left my arms. Even now, as a grown man, he’s still my wonderful son.”
At 49, Connie Chung had reached the heights of professional success and fulfilled her dream of motherhood, but she admits she never felt fully successful. “Being born Chinese means being humble. It was never enough,” she said.
It wasn’t until later that she fully appreciated her impact, thanks to the “Connie Generation.” In a 2023 New York Times article, it was revealed that many Chinese, Korean, and Japanese parents in the U.S. were naming their daughters after her. “I couldn’t believe it,” she said. “That was the most exhilarating moment. They declared me a success, and only then did I feel like I could accept that.”
When asked what her legacy is for these parents and their daughters, Connie Chung offered three guiding principles: “Work hard, be brave, and take risks. I wasn’t the smartest or the toughest, but those three things I did.”
