sections of big cities didn’t have grocery stores in their neighborhoods. Rural
shoppers across large swaths of the country were similarly out of luck when it
came to accessing fresh produce. Meanwhile, portion sizes at restaurants were
increasing. Advertising slogans for sugary cereal, microwavable convenience
foods, and supersized everything were downloaded directly into the minds of
children watching cartoons.
Attempting to improve even one part of the food system, though, could set
off adversarial ripples. If I were to try to declare war on sugary drinks marketed to
kids, it would likely be opposed not just by the big beverage companies but also
by farmers who supplied the corn used in many sweeteners. If I were to advocate
for healthier school lunches, I’d put myself on a collision course with the big
corporate lobbies that often dictated what food ended up on a fourth grader’s tray
at the cafeteria. For years, public health experts and advocates had been
outmatched by the better-organized, better-funded food and beverage industrial
complex. School lunches in the United States were a six-billion-dollar-a-year
business.
Still, it felt to me like the right time to push for change. I was neither the
first nor the only person to be drawn to these issues. Across America, a nascent
healthy food movement was gaining strength. Urban farmers were experimenting
in cities across the country. Republicans and Democrats alike had tackled the
problem at state and local levels, investing in healthy living, building more
sidewalks and community gardens—a proof point that there was common
political ground to be explored.
Midway through 2009, my small team and I began coordinating with West
Wing policy people and meeting with experts inside and outside government to
formulate a plan. We decided to keep our work focused on children. It’s tough
and politically difficult to get grown-ups to change their habits. We felt certain
we’d stand a better chance if we tried to help kids think differently about food
and exercise from an early age. And who could take issue with us if we were
genuinely looking out for kids?
My own kids were by then out of school for the summer. I’d committed
myself to spending three days a week working in my capacity as First Lady while
reserving the rest of my time for family. Rather than put the girls in day camps, I
decided to run what I called Camp Obama, where we’d invite a few friends and
make local excursions, getting to know the area in which we now lived. We
went to Monticello and Mount Vernon and explored caves in the Shenandoah