(I can't help it... I am just so happy about our newest 'first family'. Just the image of their family is an inspiration that is so very much needed in the US and especially for the black community. I'm hoping that the thug image fades as the images of intelligence, confidence, respect and self esteem become prominent and something that children aspire to.)
What Michelle Means to Us
We've never had a First Lady quite like Michelle Obama. How she'll change the world's image of African-American women— and the way we see ourselves.
At a recent Sunday brunch after church, my "sista friends" and I sat on the patio of a Los Angeles restaurant gabbing about the election of Barack Obama. Sure, we were caught up in the history of the moment. Most of us never thought we'd see an African-American president. But as a group of six black women in our 30s and 40s, we were equally excited by who is coming along with Obama to the White House—his wife, Michelle, and their two young daughters. We all praised—OK, maybe even envied—Michelle's double Ivy League pedigree, her style, her cool but friendly demeanor. And yet we're all aware of how much we have riding on her. At 44, Michelle Obama will be the youngest First Lady since Jacqueline Kennedy. And many are expecting her to usher in a similarly glamorous era in Washington. ("Bamelot," as some are already calling it.) But Michelle's influence could go far beyond the superficial. When her husband raises his hand to take the oath of office, Michelle will become the world's most visible African-American woman. The new First Lady will have the chance to knock down ugly stereotypes about black women and educate the world about American black culture more generally. But perhaps more important—even apart from what her husband can do—Michelle has the power to change the way African-Americans see ourselves, our lives and our possibilities.
It's an amazing opportunity—and a huge responsibility. "I think she's always going to be classy, because she knows she's not just representing herself,'' said my friend Gertrude Justin, 40, a nurse from Houston. "She knows she's fighting stereotypes of black people that have been around for decades and that her every move will be watched. I'm sure she's been just as insulted by the lack of true depictions of African-American women as any other black woman.'' Michelle will be a daily reminder that we're not all hotheaded, foaming-at-the-mouth drug addicts, always ready with a quick one-liner and a roll of the eyes.
Like many African-American women I know, Michelle has had a lot of practice at the delicate tap dance of getting along in the mainstream white world. During all those years in boardrooms and a topnotch law firm—not to mention the exclusive clubs of Princeton and Harvard Law School—she's had to learn to blend in. Now she'll have to go even further in convincing two very different constituencies—African-Americans and everyone else—that they can trust her as their First Lady. And she'll have to do it all while remaining true to her authentic self.
Michelle has already shown she understands how universal her appeal must be. Early on in the primaries, after she was labeled too forward and too loud, Michelle demonstrated self-restraint and discipline by dialing back. She stopped making harmless jokes about Obama's morning breath and other breaches of hygiene. Her remark about being "proud of my country" for the first time was another rare misstep. But she quickly learned to play the adoring and uncontroversial wife, talking up her husband on shows like "The View."
She showed she could calibrate her remarks for predominantly black audiences too, opening up a bit more about what Obama's election would mean for them—and what it would also mean for her, referring to herself as "the little black girl from the South Side of Chicago." Yet when The New Yorker caricatured the Obamas in July doing a "terrorist fist bump" in the Oval Office, the image stung. It was Michelle who came across as the domineering one—the angry black woman. She toned it down and took to wearing pearls and reassuring J.Crew cardigans.
Will that softer side win out now that she's headed to the East Wing? When I met Michelle earlier this year for an interview in Atlanta, I was taken by her warmth and eagerness to chat about everything—fashion designers she'd like to wear, her girls' taste in clothes, even dogs. (On a follow-up phone call, she greeted me with "Hey, girlfriend," like she was a long-lost sorority sister.) There was no pretense—no second-guessing her next word or move the way she seemed to do after the campaign became a mudfest.
I personally hope that she will let more of that true, colorful personality seep through. There are some good hints she might. Her daring election-night red-speckled dress, designed by Narciso Rodriguez, was hardly a cautious choice. It wasn't altogether flattering, but it showed that Michelle is searching for her own style. Other clues come from her winning, if still demure, performance during the recent "60 Minutes" interview. Looking chic and relaxed—and genuinely affectionate with her husband—she poked fun at the president-elect's professed affinity for doing the dishes and told him she wouldn't accompany him on a walk on a cold Chicago day.
