helena andrews

Of Bastards, Bitches and Black Women: My Mother Taught Me to Speak My Truth

My mother, Frances Andrews, is the best kind of thief. Today, the woman admitted in print that after hounding me for the unedited manuscript for my forthcoming memoir, "Bitch is the New Black," she took matters into her own hands, hacked into my computer and e-mailed herself some of the chapters. She wanted to know what I was "putting out there," she said in a recent story in the Washington Post on me and my book. Reading those chapters, she continued, was like "walking down memory lane from my child's perspective." Fine, I forgive you. See, the lady likes to steal. Another thing she took ...

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