第 1 章
A Glimpse into Whoopi's World
When Whoopi Goldberg's mother died unexpectedly in August 2010, followed by her brother Clyde's sudden death from an aneurysm five years later, she found herself the sole keeper of her family's memories. "Probably none of us had the childhoods we think we had," she reflects. "We only have our individual memories of what we believe happened." Now, with no one left to ask about those memories, Whoopi captures the essence of her upbringing and the two people who shaped her most profoundly: her mother Emma and brother Clyde. This intimate memoir has resonated with readers across generations, becoming Oprah's Book Club selection and earning praise from Michelle Obama, who called it "a beautiful tribute to family bonds." Beyond the celebrity endorsements, the book offers something universally relatable-a daughter's love letter to her mother, exploring how our earliest relationships shape who we become. As Goldberg herself puts it, "My mom made me believe I could do anything I wanted." This belief transformed Caryn Johnson, the "little weird kid" from the projects, into the EGOT-winning Whoopi Goldberg we know today.
第 2 章
The Extraordinary Ordinary: Life in the Chelsea Projects
Emma Johnson and her son Clyde were already a duo when Whoopi (born Caryn Johnson) arrived. Her mother, a woman who refused to reveal her age and deflected personal questions with wit, created a world of possibility within the confines of the Chelsea housing projects in Manhattan. "The confines of this neighborhood do not represent the confines of your life," Emma would tell her children, words that shaped Whoopi's expansive worldview from an early age.
Though they were poor, Whoopi didn't realize it-everyone around them lived in similar circumstances. What made their experience different was Emma's determination to expose her children to culture and possibility. Despite having no extra money, she took them to museums, galleries, performances, and even the Beatles concert at Shea Stadium in 1965. She refused welfare despite being a single mother without child support, believing firmly, "If I am able to work and take care of my own, then I should do that."
Emma Johnson didn't tolerate complaining. "You've got two choices," she would say. "Waste time complaining or figure out how to fix it." But she balanced this tough love with joy, often laughing uncontrollably during family outings, like when they all tumbled helplessly in the rotating barrel at Rockaways' Playland.
This philosophy of resilience and self-determination carried through to the end of Emma's life. In 1994, decades after dismissing the Rolling Stones as noise, she danced in the front row at Whoopi's performance with the band, lighter held high-embodying how they approached life together, embracing change and joy right up to the day she died.
第 3 章
Loss and Legacy: The Nucleus of Three Becomes One
Whoopi was still performing in London's West End production of Sister Act when Clyde called with the devastating news in August 2010: "Caryn, Ma died. A couple hours ago." He had gone to get her a newspaper and More cigarettes, returning to find her on the couch with an unlit cigarette, smiling but not breathing. An aneurysm had taken her suddenly.
Just the day before, Whoopi had FaceTimed with her mother-laughing for an hour about grandkids, roses, and family matters. They always ended their daily calls the same way: "Is there anything else you think I should know?" followed by "I love you"-a just-in-case ritual that had now become reality.
Dame Maggie Smith, who had been visiting Whoopi's dressing room when the call came, stayed with her through the night until her flight, letting her talk about her mother while they laughed together. At the hospital, Whoopi and Clyde pulled the plug together. Their nucleus of three became two.
Emma had been clear about her wishes: "I don't want to be put in the ground and take up space... Just put me in the microwave." After calling several funeral homes about this unusual request, they found one willing to help with cremation.
Later, on what would have been Emma's birthday, they took her ashes to Disneyland-a place she'd always wanted to take her children. Years earlier, when Whoopi had steady work in her twenties, she'd surprised her mother with a trip there. When Emma realized where they were going, she burst into tears-something she rarely did. "I was supposed to do this for you and Clyde," she said. Whoopi told her it didn't matter who did it for whom.
They spent that day wearing Mickey ears, riding every attraction, and Emma especially loved "It's a Small World"-her vision of what humanity should be, all colors and cultures united. When Whoopi and Clyde scattered her ashes at Disneyland, they "sneezed" her into the Small World ride when no one was looking. Whoopi later confessed to a park employee who wasn't surprised but definitely wasn't happy about it. Apparently many families do this, though now they're on high alert for it.
"My mother's death has been the most devastating experience of my life," Whoopi reflects. "I still think about her every day." After her death, Whoopi realized no one would ever love her the way her mother did. She wouldn't put that sparkle in anyone else's eye. Though she knows her mother would tell her to get over herself-"Really? No one else loves you?"-she'll never get over her.
第 4 章
Childhood Adventures: Snow Days and Summer Escapes
In one of the few childhood photos Whoopi has, she's about two years old, bundled in a snowsuit sitting on their apartment building steps, looking sideways with uncertainty. But she had help navigating life-her older brother, Clyde.
New York snowstorms in the '50s and '60s transformed their neighborhood completely, burying playground equipment and blurring boundaries between sidewalk and street. These were magical times with her brother. He'd put her on the front of his Flexible Flyer sled and push them down Tenth Avenue, jumping on as they gained momentum. Despite Chelsea's flat terrain, it felt like the Matterhorn to her. She'd wear him out demanding "Again, Clyde. Do it again" after each run.
The projects were a diverse ethnic enclave-Black, white, Chinese, Puerto Rican, Korean, Mexican, Italian, and Jewish families living together. The children adapted easily to this multilingual environment. Five or six mothers always watched from benches around the playground, ready to discipline any child who misbehaved. Others monitored from apartment windows-you couldn't get away with anything without your mother knowing before you reached your floor.
Summer days, they'd be sent outside after breakfast until sundown. When the Mister Softee or Good Humor truck arrived, Whoopi would shout up to their sixth-floor window for money. Emma would wrap coins in tissue and drop them into the hedges. Sometimes Whoopi would buy Italian shaved ice topped with Kool-Aid from an old man's cart.
These treats were their only relief from the heat. Without air conditioning or even fans, their concrete-and-brick buildings absorbed the sun all day and radiated heat all night. When it hit 95 degrees outside, it felt like 115 inside. Their cooling system consisted of cold, wet rags wrapped around their necks.
In the evenings, buildings would "peel open like a can of sardines" as residents brought chairs outside to catch any breeze. Old men played dominoes, young women played cards, and Whoopi would listen to their conversations. Sleep was impossible in the hot apartments-"like a burger on a hot grill."
Special summer days included trips to Coney Island with spiced-ham-and-cheese sandwiches and Miracle Whip. They'd ride rides all day, eventually getting Nathan's hot dogs and crinkle-cut fries. The sounds of laughter, clanging rides, merry-go-round music, and smells of fried dough made it heaven for Whoopi-with her mom and brother, she felt "untouchable."
第 5 章
The Night Owl and the Nonsleeper: Quirks and Acceptance
"I'm not much of a sleeper," Whoopi confesses. The quiet of 3 a.m. appeals to her-no expectations, no phone calls, no social pressure. Usually she's up with her cat Twilight, both nocturnal creatures. Houseguests find this disturbing, always asking why she's awake, though never questioning the cat's habits.
This pattern started in childhood when her mother would tuck her in at regular kid hours, only to find her still wide-awake hours later, her imagination too busy for sleep. She'd create stories and give voices to inanimate objects-"Who could sleep when you've got your box of crayons having a conversation with your sneakers?"
Her mother worked overnight shifts as a practical nurse at French Hospital's pediatric ward-one of the few nursing programs that would educate Black women, though becoming a registered nurse wasn't an option for her then. She'd leave around 10 p.m. in her white uniform with her naturally curly hair straightened and pinned under her nurse's cap, returning by 6:30 a.m. to get them ready for school.
With Clyde in charge during those overnight hours, their apartment became the neighborhood's teenage dance party spot. Music from the Temptations, Supremes, and James Brown would play while Whoopi learned all the popular dances at 2 a.m., until someone would notice her and send her back to bed.
Beyond being a nonsleeper, Whoopi was also a noneater with very specific tastes. She'd eat dry Cheerios but nothing "globby, mushy, wet, or hidden under a sauce or gravy." Eggs were her nemesis-she couldn't stand their smell or appearance in any form.
Her mother once tried to broaden her food horizons by serving scrambled eggs for breakfast. When Whoopi refused, she insisted she at least try them before getting anything else to eat. The standoff continued through lunch and after school, with those same eggs reappearing at every meal. Whoopi held firm, sustaining herself on her secret candy stash.
By the next morning, they were back to dry Cheerios without comment. This taught Whoopi a valuable parenting lesson she'd later use herself: "Sometimes you've got to let the kid have their way. You've got to believe they know what they're talking about."
Christmas was especially magical in their home. They'd start by viewing the decorated windows at Macy's and Gimbels. Days later, a fresh evergreen would mysteriously appear in their living room, followed by spray-snow stencils on windows and decorations that seemed to materialize from nowhere. Her mother never revealed where she stored these items in their tiny apartment, maintaining the magic with "I have no idea what you're asking me. They came from wherever they were."
第 6 章
Darkness and Light: A Mother's Breakdown and Return
The 1964 World's Fair in Queens was a grand adventure for their family. The sprawling pavilions represented countries from around the world, with exotic foods and exhibits that amazed them. They explored Dinoland's massive dinosaur sculptures, gazed at the Unisphere globe, rode "It's a Small World," and took the skyway tram for an aerial view. The Bell Telephone pavilion featured futuristic Picturephones (like FaceTime, but 46 years earlier), while Futurama II showed life in 2064 with people wearing jetpacks.
But Whoopi's childhood world was about to change drastically. One afternoon after school, she found her mother in a disturbing state-hair disheveled, barefoot, wearing only a black trench coat over a white slip. She was muttering incoherently. A neighbor helped her to a chair and called for help.
Paramedics arrived with a gurney just as Clyde returned from school. He became frantic, trying to stop them from taking their mother. "Don't touch her. Wait! Leave her be." But they proceeded, and Whoopi followed them onto the elevator, feeling protective and angry at the other passengers who stared at her mother's condition.
By the time they wheeled her out, all the neighbors were watching from their windows. When Whoopi tried to climb into the ambulance, she was pulled back, told kids couldn't go to hospitals. She and Clyde stood on the sidewalk as the ambulance drove away with their mother inside.
It was the last time Whoopi saw her mother for two whole years. She'd been sent to Bellevue Hospital for a nervous breakdown. No one explained what had happened. For those two years, Whoopi has few memories-cousins staying with them, their father coming and going. She learned to be self-sufficient, thinking only: Don't ask for anything. Be good. Don't cause trouble.
When Emma finally returned home, she seemed different-like she looked and sounded like Whoopi's mother, but wasn't really her. She didn't respond to hugs and seemed confused. Forty years later, she revealed the truth: after experimental electroshock therapy approved by Whoopi's father and grandfather, she had returned home with no memory of her previous life, including her children. She'd had to solve the mystery of who she used to be without letting anyone know.
From that experience, Emma made a lifelong decision never to see doctors or allow anyone to make decisions about her health. Even when she was losing teeth or showing signs of strokes later in life, she refused medical care, determined never to be institutionalized again.
第 7 章
Born for the Spotlight: Finding Her Voice
Emma always knew Whoopi would be in the spotlight. According to her, Whoopi was born with her eyes wide open, immediately turning toward the light-so unusual that medical staff came to witness this newborn with attitude. From her earliest memories, Whoopi knew she wanted to act.
Before any formal stage training, she had to act her way through school. At St. Columba Catholic school, she couldn't make sense of the jumbled letters on pages due to undiagnosed dyslexia. She memorized what other kids read aloud, then pretended she was reading it herself. Her mother never made her feel bad about this, telling her she just learned differently, reading to her at night and encouraging her: "You can do anything you want to do. It'll take longer, but you can figure it out."
Whoopi was captivated by street theater companies like Joseph Papp's ensemble that performed neighborhood shows from box trucks. The Hudson Guild's community theater space nearby offered productions where she could audition. Being able to become someone else was what she loved most-she was hooked.
Her mother taught her hard lessons about honesty and consequences. She was direct about her own preferences, eventually telling Whoopi to stop sending her Mary Jane candies she no longer enjoyed. She taught responsibility by letting Whoopi make her own choices-like going out in winter without proper clothing-and face the natural consequences. After freezing her toes the third time, her mother's head shake made it clear she was being foolish.
Emma emphasized self-reliance, telling Whoopi to make her own money rather than depending on someone else. Whoopi overheard women in their building discussing financial independence, and once heard someone remark that since she was "no beauty," she'd need to work. Her mother calmly acknowledged this truth, preparing her for independence. Though Whoopi made mistakes, she never became dependent on anyone else for support.
Growing up in diverse New York City, Whoopi was initially confused by segregation she saw on television, having never experienced such restrictions herself. Her mother explained these realities while encouraging her to look forward rather than dwelling on past injustices. She found opportunity in unexpected places, like when she protested against building a nursery school that replaced their playground, then ended up working there and eventually earning advanced education degrees in early childhood education.
第 8 章
The Journey to Becoming Whoopi Goldberg
Whoopi left New York with her toddler daughter Alexandrea, heading to California with two actor friends. Though filled with doubt crossing into New Jersey, she committed to the journey despite having no concrete plan. Her mother warned she couldn't afford to bring her back if things didn't work out. Instead of reaching Los Angeles as she'd hoped, they landed in Lubbock, Texas, where her friends performed dinner theater for months before continuing to San Diego-not the Hollywood she'd envisioned.
In San Diego, she joined the fledgling San Diego Repertory Theatre, first working backstage before being cast in plays. Needing independence from her actor roommate, she reluctantly went on welfare ($127 monthly plus food stamps) to support Alex and herself. Though her mother had never taken assistance, she assured Whoopi: "Stop thinking about what I'm thinking. You have a kid to take care of, so you will do what you need to do."
Seeking a more interesting stage name than Caryn Johnson, she adopted "Whoopi Cushione" (with French pronunciation) from a nickname given because of her occasional flatulence. When she sent her mother a positive theater review with this name, Emma suggested something more substantial: "You should take one of the names from the family tree. How about Goldberg? That has a nice ring to it."
Through the San Diego Rep, she met Dave from Berkeley's Blake Street Hawkeyes theater group who convinced her to move north. She left San Diego as Caryn Johnson and arrived in Berkeley as Whoopi Goldberg, bypassing Los Angeles yet again. At Blake Street, she developed about eleven characters and created a solo show called The Spook Show.
Her big break came when the Dance Theater Workshop in New York invited her to perform. Initially drawing small audiences, everything changed after a positive New York Times review by Mel Gussow. Suddenly celebrities filled the seats, including Mike Nichols, who was moved to tears by her performance. He offered to bring her show to Broadway, and after months of preparation, they began rehearsals at the Lyceum Theatre.
Mike Nichols' endorsement instantly elevated her visibility in the entertainment world. During her Broadway run of 156 shows, her mother and she regularly dined with celebrities-something Whoopi particularly cherished for her mother's sake, wanting to thank her for enriching her childhood with cultural experiences. Because of Mike Nichols, she caught Steven Spielberg's attention, who wanted her to audition for the role of Celie in The Color Purple.
第 9 章
Full Circle: From Daughter to Mother to Grandmother
Whoopi became a grandmother at thirty-four when her daughter Alex had her first child, Amara, on November 13, 1989. When Alex called to tell her she was pregnant at fifteen, she was determined to keep the baby, saying, "This baby will love me, and she won't know you." Whoopi understood her frustration-people often pushed Alex aside because of her fame.
Whoopi called her mother in panic, but Emma calmly reminded her of her pro-choice activism: "I didn't realize you were just marching only for your choice." She assured Whoopi they could help Alex raise her child. Emma, a former pediatric nurse, went into the delivery room with Alex and knew exactly what to do when they brought the baby home.
Years later, Alex admitted she got pregnant as a teenager because she "wanted one person in her life who didn't know who Whoopi Goldberg was." Whoopi suspected it was also revenge for her frequent absences.
After The Color Purple, Whoopi faced industry limitations, with people saying things like, "You're black, so there's not much producers will hire you for." Most movie roles she played in the '80s and '90s were intended for others. Burglar was written for Bruce Willis, Jumpin' Jack Flash for Shelley Long, Fatal Beauty for Cher, and Sister Act for Bette Midler.
For Ghost, she was initially rejected for being "too well known," despite every other Black actress auditioning. Patrick Swayze became her advocate after reading with her in Alabama, and director Jerry Zucker gave her freedom to develop Oda Mae. Thanks to Patrick, she received her second Oscar nomination. When Denzel Washington called her name as the winner, she finally felt accepted by her peers.
At Swifty Lazar's post-Oscar party, she met legendary filmmakers and stars like Billy Wilder, Gregory Peck, Jack Lemmon, Sophia Loren, and Elizabeth Taylor. Elizabeth Taylor became a mentor to her, giving her career advice like asking studios for a gift after each film-something to remember her career by when times got tough. "Your career is going to be a little different because you are black," she told Whoopi.
第 10 章
Grief Has No Timeline: Remembering Emma and Clyde
Certain scents and tastes transport Whoopi back to her mother-Wise potato chips, Werther's butterscotch candy, Jean Nate bath powder, and Chanel No. 5 perfume. These bring good memories, not sadness.
The song "Who Can I Turn To?" makes her teary-eyed. Her mom would sing along with Tony Bennett's recording, and the lyrics about losing your guiding star sum up how Emma made her way through life, and now how Whoopi feels too.
After her mother died, Whoopi felt a grief that stays in her toes-not crippling but a kind of fog or numbness. She resents that her mom and Clyde aren't here anymore. They were her home base, her reality check, knowing her from the start. Before her mother passed, Whoopi apologized for being difficult as a kid. Emma smiled and said all kids are challenging sometimes, it's part of growing up. She predicted one day Whoopi would look in the mirror and see her coming out of her shirt-and she was right.
Emma taught Whoopi to be kind to people even when she doesn't agree with them. She and Clyde were the only ones who could tell her "Don't be a dick" and it would feel like love. After Clyde passed, Whoopi lost her footing completely-he was her beacon, the last person who knew everything about her and their mom.
For those grieving their mothers, Whoopi has learned grief has no timeline or finite ending. Let yourself fully feel it. Separate grief for your mom from grief for yourself. Find ways to celebrate her life through humor. And for those who still have parents, don't avoid talking about death-have those difficult conversations while you still can.
If she could have her mom for one more weekend, Whoopi would first let everyone who loved her spend time with her. Then she'd take her for a drive in an electric car, show her how smartphones have evolved, and fly her to her house in Italy. They'd sit on the beach, smoke joints, laugh, and she'd tell her everything that's happened. She'd take her for a manicure-Emma would love today's nail designs and probably choose metallic gold.
Nothing was left unsaid between them-Whoopi accomplished her mission of giving back to her mother while she was alive. Every birthday, she'd send her flowers saying "Thanks for letting me rent the room." Whether at the White House or reading in her garden, Emma found joy in each day. Whoopi's new mission is to be more appreciative like her mother, because she truly is "the luckiest person in the world."
