InStyle (September 1997)

first person by vanessa williams

you can go
home again

  Life lessons can be passed down through generations-that´s
why this actress keeps her children close to their grandparents

I grew up in a town called Millwood, in Westchester County north of New York City. It's the best of both worlds: You can be in Manhattan in less than an hour, but you can also have raccoons rustling through your garbage cans and deer in your backyard. Neighbors remain your neighbors for years; everyone's friendly and everyone watches out for one another. There's an A&P, a post office, a ball field, a hardware store, one church, a lumberyard and a motorcycle shop. It's a caring and culturally diverse community, and my dad is one of the fire commissioners of the local fire company. It's typical small-town U.S.A.

In 1985 I headed west for Los Angeles. Two years was going to be my limit, but two turned into almost seven. My daughters - Melanie, 10, and Jillian, 8-were born in L.A., and my son, Devin, 4, was born in New York. But I planned to be back east by the time my oldest was ready for kindergarten.

Jillian, Devin and Melanie with their
grandmothers, Helen Williams (left) and Winifred Hervey

So in 1992 we began looking for a house in the same county I grew up in, and ended up in a house five minutes away from my parents. Los Angeles was an easy place to live, but it never quite felt like home to me. I missed the interaction between my parents and my kids, and was definitely aware of the riches that could be mined if only my folks lived nearby. My parents are still married after 37 years, and they still live in the same house I grew up in. That means a lot to me for my sense of security, but also for my kids' sense of history-when they walk into Gaga and Papa's house they can go into my room, into their Uncle Chris's room, and they can play in the backyard near the pool that my dad built.

While in Los Angeles, I missed the seasonal traditions that were a part of my family life-those long, hot summer nights, getting fresh cider in autumn, going to Radio City Music Hall every Christmas, sledding in the winter, and praying it would snow so much you wouldn't have to go to school the next day. And I really wanted the same type of memories for my kids that I have.

Life with my parents is an endless adventure. They take the kids to concerts and invite them for overnights. With them, the kids experiment with cooking and planting. My father started my son on the first book my brother ever read, Let Papa Sleep.

Devin gets in the swing on a vacation
with his grandmother, Helen Williams.

Another tradition that my mom has is to make the kids an appropriate sweatshirt for every holiday. When Halloween arrives, she comes over with orange sweatshirts she's adorned with ghouls. At Christmastime, she brings colorful red-and-green sweatshirts. Recently my daughter had a sock hop for a birthday party, so I said, "Call Gaga." And she went with my daughter to the store to buy the material to make a poodle skirt for the party.

My parents are both music teachers. Now that we live nearby, my dad gives each of the kids weekly beginning piano lessons. Just last year, Melanie started playing the clarinet. When the kids progress further with piano, they'll graduate from Papa to Gaga-she's the more advanced piano teacher of the two. I made the same progression as a child. It was a requirement in our house to continue our music education until we graduated from high school, after which music turned into a career for me.

My dad is also an assistant principal, and he handles all the disciplinary problems in his school. So if my kids have a problem in the playground at their school, I'll tell them, "Why don't you call Papa and see what he has to say about it?" They'll call, and he'll give them advice. Of course I'll add my two cents, but I like to involve my parents as much as I can-I involve them in almost every decision in terms of schooling and extracurricular activities. "Are the kids overextended? What do you think?" It's one thing to call your girlfriends and say, "What should I do?" But it's also nice to ask, "Has this ever happened before?" And to find out about what really works from those with experience.

Vanessa´s dad, Milton Williams, reads children´s stories to
Melanie, Jillian and Devin during a quiet moment
on Christmas Eve, 1994.

The great thing about grandparents is that they don't have the same guilt and the responsibility that parents have. They can rule with a gentler stick and be a little more approachable. I want my kids to be able to have the kind of relationship where, if they can't tell me something, they can call their grandparents and say, "I really need to talk."

In my new movie, Soul Food, it's the Sunday dinners at the grandmother's house that help to give the family strength. In Millwood we have family dinners at my mother's house at the same dining room table my brother and I sat around as kids. It feels good to know my parents will be there for me no matter what happens, and that ultimately makes me a stronger individual. And it's having the same effect on my kids.

What do my parents get out of it? The kids are a constant source of amusement and laughter for them. And my parents get a chance to relive the moments of childrearing that are delightful, without the responsibility for the day-to-day stuff. As I listen to their advice and watch them all together, I marvel at how well my mom and dad have done-because now that I'm a parent and in their shoes, I realize how hard it is, and I'm glad that they are always there for me and my kids.