For me, these social events could feel like distractions from what I hoped
would be more impactful work, but I also started thinking about ways I might
add to or at least modernize some of them, to bend the bar of tradition ever so
slightly. In general, I was thinking that life in the White House could be forward
leaning without losing any of its established history and tradition. Over time,
Barack and I would take steps in this direction, hanging more abstract art and
works by African American artists on the walls, for example, and mixing
contemporary furniture in with the antiques. In the Oval Office, Barack swapped
out a bust of Winston Churchill and replaced it with a bust of Martin Luther
King Jr. And we gave the tuxedoed White House butlers the option of dressing
more casually on days when there were no public events, introducing a khaki and
golf shirt option.
Barack and I knew we wanted to do a better job of democratizing the
White House, making it feel less elitist and more open. When we hosted an
event, I wanted everyday people to show up, not just those accustomed to black-
tie attire. And I wanted more kids around, because kids made everything better. I
hoped to make the Easter Egg Roll accessible to more people—adding more slots
for city schoolchildren and military families to go with the tickets guaranteed to
the children and grandchildren of members of Congress and other VIPs. Lastly, if
I was going to sit and lunch with the (mostly) wives of the House and the Senate,
couldn’t I also invite them to join me out in the city for a community service
project?
I knew what mattered to me. I didn’t want to be some sort of well-dressed
ornament who showed up at parties and ribbon cuttings. I wanted to do things
that were purposeful and lasting. My first real effort, I decided, would be the
garden.
I was not a gardener and never had been in my life, but thanks to Sam Kass
and our family’s efforts to eat better at home, I now knew that strawberries were
at their most succulent in June, that darker-leaf lettuces had the most nutrients,
and that it wasn’t so hard to make kale chips in the oven. I saw my daughters
eating things like spring pea salad and cauliflower mac and cheese and understood
that until recently most of what we knew about food had come through food-
industry advertising of everything boxed, frozen, or otherwise processed for
convenience, whether it was in snap-crackle TV jingles or clever packaging
aimed at the harried parent dashing through the grocery store. Nobody, really,
was out there advertising the fresh, healthy stuff—the gratifying crunch of a fresh
carrot or the unparalleled sweetness of a tomato plucked right off the vine.