Michelle & Me

I am one of the 175,000 people who bought Becoming Michelle Obama in its first week of publication. I am not going to review the book--it feels unnecessary. But I am going to talk about my personal reaction.

My interest in the book is part of a long-held interest in the First Ladies dating to the creation of my redwork quilt Remember the Ladies. I read books on the president's wives and individual biographies and memoirs while developing my patterns. I find the role of First Lady fascinating and at times even familiar.

Remember the Ladies by Nancy A. Bekofske

The president's spouse is thrust into the limelight. The layers of expectations and the deluge of attention and isolation, criticism and idolation, are unsought and unwelcome. The president's spouse is not elected and garners no salary and yet is expected to represent the country as an ambassador, hostess, and representative. The president's spouse cannot choose the family's home. Their spouse works long hours and travels a lot.

Michelle honed telling her story on the campaign trail, a way to forge bonds with diverse groups of people. On the surface, Michelle has nothing in common with people like me. But I felt a connection over and over.

Michelle's dad was a blue-collar city employee with MS. My dad was an auto mechanic who worked in his dad's gas station. He lucked into a job in the auto industry as an experimental mechanic. My mom was crippled with Psoriatic Arthritis.

Michelle grew up in a multi-family home, shared with her aunt and uncle. I grew up in a multi-family home, shared with my father's siblings and his parents. When I was five my grandmother moved in with my family. Michelle shared a bedroom with her brother, separated by a wall and enclosed with folding doors. My grandmother and I had side by side bedrooms, once a larger room that was divided, and enclosed with folding doors!

Michelle had piano lessons. So did I. She has a brother. So do I.

Michelle had children in her thirties. I had my son in my thirties.

When Michelle's husband went into politics it meant he was away much of the time, leaving her to juggle a career, running the home, and raising their kids. My husband took a job where he spent four hours a day commuting and was home only a few hours a day. He frequently traveled across the states and several times a year was abroad. I juggled the homefront and raised our son.

Michelle's husband's career left her with difficult choices between stability for the family and being together. She found herself thrust into the spotlight, but also in his shadow with her own accomplishments sidelined to her role as Barack's wife. My husband's career as a minister meant frequent moves, some dictated, with no choice of the house we lived in or the school district our child was in. At gatherings, people surrounded him and ignored me. It was expected that I attend events and take on leadership and act as a figurehead. I often did not meet expectations as I tried to be true to myself.

When Michelle wrote that she and her husband had always been sounding boards for each other and how Barack had perfected the ability to set boundaries between work and family, being fully present even when they "lived above the shop" my respect grew deeper than ever. Living in a church-owned home with a husband on-call 24-7, parishioners' happiness dictating housing needs and raises, it was hard to have boundaries between our family life and my husband's career. When churches were in crisis it affected us all deeply.

Michelle Robinson Obama may strike you as someone charmed and glamorous.  But, I related to her. I got it.

After all, she grew up in a divided bedroom with folding doors.