Who is Dr. CC? - The Early Years

In order to share other people’s stories, I have to be able to share my own. Talking about myself is not the easiest thing to do. I find it much more comfortable to support the vision of others, but there are times where we have to step out of the shadows. So here it goes.

I was born and raised in Newport News, Virginia, the Hampton Roads area, which some of us affectionately refer to as “The 757.” My parents were native New Yorkers who met at Livingstone College, a small HBCU in Salisbury, North Carolina in the 1970s, and fell in love. After graduation they married on August 15, 1981, and returned to New York briefly before my father was recruited for a teaching position in Virginia with Newport News Public Schools. My mom followed and the rest is history.

I am the oldest of two children. My brother, Christopher, is a few years younger than me. The tenets of our parents’ household were identity (Black/African American pride), education, family, and church.

That’s us - The Moores (2016). Standing in front of our home for more than 30 years. Photo Credit: Gregory Adams Jr.

My parents recognized the gift of communication in me early on.

Both of my them were educators. One of my father’s coworkers, an English Teacher named Mrs. Haltiwanger, had a Christian radio show for youth. So, my parents began cultivating the gift within me then by allowing me to participate. I was about seven years old. Every week, each one of the kids had to say their first and middle name as a program introduction - I enthusiastically proclaimed, “Candace Monique”! So happy. So proud. I count this as one of the first encounters that created my immense interest in broadcast journalism.

As the children of educators who would eventually become ministers, our parents, especially my mother - an English and Social Studies Teacher - regulated our media consumption. During the school week, we could only watch 30 minutes of wholesome television each day or the local television news. My father also read the newspaper daily and watched the news faithfully - especially “60 Minutes” on Sundays, so this was a form of bonding for us. Hence, these experiences also greatly contributed to my love for journalism.

I have always been thrill-seeking and determined, displaying inquisitiveness with streaks of independence, since childhood. I still remember the day my father told me if I have something to say, speak up; not to ever let anyone take my voice. I think this eventually backfired on him because there were times we definitely had some heated debates, but it never ruined our relationship. I was [and still am] a Daddy’s Girl at my core which is the reason I had it etched on my wrist after my father passed away in 2017. Never to slight my mother though - I find myself exhibiting more of her tendencies every day.

Me posing in front of a portrait in our family home in the early 1990s.

In middle school, I went through an awkward phase where I was trying to find my place. I wore braces for a few years and my natural hair never remained pressed and styled straight because I also began playing basketball in sixth grade (my mom eventually allowed me to get a relaxer around 8th grade.) Certainly, my only reason for playing basketball was to make my father proud; his passion was basketball and he spent a lot of time in the gym as a high school boys basketball coach. Yet, I also found great activities for me as a conflict mediator and one of the broadcasters on the afternoon announcements. My grades were pretty good. I always considered myself a hard worker.

In high school, I was an above average student (a low grade or two in statistics, but hey, it was tough) and very active in extracurricular activities. I served as class president all four years, was inducted into National Honor Society, participated in CHROME - a STEM education club, The Superintendent’s Advisory Group on education, school-community clubs, and was nominated to the homecoming court every year. I also played basketball four years from middle school through the start of my 10th grade year. I quit right before tryouts—after my dad paid for my physical which gave me clearance to participate in athletics. He was baffled and disappointed, but I couldn’t put up a facade any longer. My body was developing and I didn’t want to play basketball. I wanted to pursue other things that I was better at and that’s what I told him. After all, I really only played to get my dad’s attention. Basketball wasn’t really my passion. It was my dad’s love and I adopted it thinking I could earn his love.

9th Grade Varsity Basketball Picture

That’s right - I played rec league a few years, AAU one season (as a bench warmer; I mainly liked the trips), plus Junior Varsity basketball in the 8th grade and Varsity Basketball in the 9th grade. I gave it my best shot but I quit the next season of my 10th grade year before tryouts started. The most I ever scored in a game was nine points on varsity my 9th grade year - I still remember; a series of three, three point shots from the right hand side of the arch against Bethel High School. My dad came to that game and he was so happy I scored. Then, I quit. That #12 though - still my number.

My Dad was profiled by our local newspaper - The Daily Press - a few times. This is his 1993 Father’s Day article, with my brother Christopher, and I on the Warwick High School basketball court where he coached for nearly 30 years. That court now bears his name - “Coach Benjamin O. Moore Jr. Court.”

There are days I look back now and ask myself why was I involved in so many activities in high school? As a reserved introvert and someone who can be shy and prefers to be private, not really seeking the spotlight, why on earth did I decide to all of these things - especially class president? But, I have always had a desire to make a difference and help people; many of these positions allowed me to do it, while still using my gift of communication to advocate for fellow students. I also think that I was looking for an opportunity to make my own personal mark. My father was so well known in our community because of his basketball and education endeavors. I just wanted some things of my own.

One of the things that bothered me in high school was being teased that I talked or acted like “like a white girl.” As I mentioned, Black identity and education were two very important tenets of my childhood. And, I knew that. Embraced it. After all, my English teacher mother kept my brother’s bedroom and my bedroom filled with Black dolls and library collections full of books about prominent African Americans, also books written by African American authors. However, there were just a few external issues at play which presented some challenges. One external cultural factor is that being articulate and intelligent in some African American spaces are a double-edged sword unfortunately. The second external cultural factor - the implications of geographical location. My educator parents, particularly my father’s affinity for his hometown of New York City and that one-of-a-kind NYC accent, never wanted his children having any touches of southern drawl in speech. He would mimic me particularly whenever he heard it. Another external factor: sheer educational placement. In a school where the racial demographic was about 1/2 Black and 1/2 white, there were often only one or two Black students in Advanced Placement courses and sometimes Honors classes, and I was one of them. Not that I felt that I was even all that organically smart. School did not come easy to me. I was a hard worker, reader, and researcher and these qualities led me through advanced academic instruction. And, as a person with acquaintances of various backgrounds, I never had a problem with befriending other students in school who were different than me. I never questioned my identity, nor wanted to identify as anything other than what I was — a young, Black female—which I was proud to be then, and am even more proud to be now. But comments from some of my Black peers hurt and caused me to really internalize. This unfortunately, led to other issues of people-pleasing, and wanting to be liked by my peers at all times; things that took me a long time to work through.

I was a student reporter at high school basketball and football games through 11th Grade TV Production opportunities. We were paid a little something too (see the tv camera on the right - yep, we were official). My classmate - Mishawn - became one of my best friends❤️. Hey Mish!

I was also teased for “not being able to dress.” In the 9th grade, I still remember being taunted for wearing baggy jeans (of course, now they’re trending 🤷🏽‍♀️ I was definitely ahead of time). In my early high school years, I was playing basketball and also wore a lot of basketball t-shirts received at various clinics (they also served another purpose - to hide a developing body I was still quite bashful about). I grew up in the age when girls wore Parasucos, Baby Phat, and Apple Bottom Jeans, Air Jordans, and Air Force Ones which we called, “Fat Heads”, but my parents were not willing to purchase name brand clothing for me. They were educators, remember? We were a middle-class family, and they really could not afford to purchase my brother and I these clothing items and keep us economically stable. Plus, they just didn’t think the labels everyone was talking about were worth the investment. Their philosophy was, “If you want it, you have to work for it.” So, that’s what I did. I was hired for my first summer job at 16 working at Busch Gardens Williamsburg—an amusement park not far from our city. Then, I started working for an athletic department store chain called, A&N. Since then, fashion became one of the things I am regularly complimented on. It is also one of my main interests.

It’s funny how we often get attacked in the areas of our greatest strengths. A few years ago, I heard media personality, singer, and actress Adrienne Bailon-Houghton also say she endured childhood teasing as well related to her speech and voice which ended up being her strengths as well as her profession. In my experience, I’ve found that God often turns our weaknesses into strengths, or meets us in the weaknesses with his power to turn things around for our favor and his glory (2 Corinthians 12:9).

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