From survivor to activist, Chanel Miller is taking toxic sports culture to task
CHANEL MILLER AND I walk into Unnameable Books in Brooklyn on a frigid February afternoon, just five days after her move to New York City. We’ve been ceaselessly chatting since we met a few hours earlier, like two long-lost childhood Asian friends tripping over words trying to make up for the distance. It was an instant connection from the moment our eyes met, and she said, hugging me, “Thank you so much for driving from Connecticut to hang out with me.” And just like that, my monthslong worries about meeting the person who lit the fire of the #MeToo movement with her victim impact statement and then her international bestseller, “Know My Name,” faded away.
She’s telling me about a new tutor she found in the city to help her brush up on her Chinese. “I need to send letters to my gong gong [an informal Chinese word for grandfather] now that we have a long-distance relationship and he can’t cook for me whenever he wants,” she says. I tell her I send my grandmother in India voice notes in Tamil once a week, updating her about my life. “My mum tells me she keeps listening to it over and over again,” I say. Miller, 27, holds her heart and smiles.