Page 35 of 107 Days

I left the campaign bus and stepped through a warm Savannah rain into the restaurant where my first major interview, with CNN’s Dana Bash, was to take place.

Kim’s Café is a family-owned soul food restaurant that supports causes such as literacy and young entrepreneurs.

Famed for its generous portions of chitterlings and smothered shrimp, it would have been perfect for a drop-in visit with the owners and their community.

It was not a good choice as background for a sit-down television interview.

As soon as I saw the setup, I felt uneasy. Emptied of customers, with blinds mostly drawn, it felt claustrophobic. Behind us in the shot was a distracting background, a table set with mugs and dishes.

Tim Walz and I were seated opposite Dana Bash at a small table probably designed for dinner for two.

Our faces were so close I felt we should deploy breath mints.

I’d done enough TV interviews to be aware of how the lighting is supposed to work: the three-point setup of key light, fill light, and back light that usually produces a flattering, even tone.

But whatever this setup was, the lights cast dark shadows under my eyes and made me look worn out.

The way the seats were arranged relative to the camera emphasized the difference in stature between Tim and me.

I have a short body and long legs. Tim’s a big man with a footballer’s massive torso.

Seated next to him, at that angle, I had to keep glancing up at him—not a good look.

We’d wanted to do the interview on the campaign bus, but the Secret Service had said no. There were too many security features on that bus that might be revealed in a camera shot. After Trump’s close call, the agents were even more than usually cautious.

As a candidate, moving fast through the blur of the campaign, you can’t micromanage every detail.

Your team must feel that you trust them.

If you’re constantly second-guessing them, it’s bad for morale.

These kinds of details—the set, the lighting, the chairs, the angle—were the kinds of things my advance person should have noticed.

But in the scramble to find an alternative venue in the agreed window of time when both Dana Bash and I would be in town, it hadn’t happened.

This was my long-awaited first interview.

In truth, it was far from the “first.” I had done dozens of interviews before I became top of the ticket—mainstream outlets such as 60 Minutes, People magazine, NPR’s Latino USA —also numerous podcasts with large audiences, like The Shade Room, PopSugar, Baby, This Is Keke Palmer , and Dear Asian Americans .

There had been a lot of chatter about the timing of this first interview after becoming the candidate, that I should have done it sooner and followed quickly with several more.

There was a feeling that we needed to feed the beast. But I knew that beast would eviscerate me if I wasn’t properly prepared.

And I had to cram that prep time into all the other things that needed to be done in the thirty-nine days I’d had: crafting a comprehensive policy agenda distinct from Biden’s, designing a convention, giving a convention speech, getting to swing states, vetting and picking a VP, being the VP.

I wanted to do the interview as soon as possible, but I couldn’t get away with doing it badly. I’m not interested in doing jiujitsu with reporters, ducking questions or obfuscating. I want to be thoughtful and responsive in my answers, no matter what is asked. I needed to be sure I was ready.

As a former prosecutor, I know the importance of being prepared.

Early in my courtroom career, when I was still a law clerk, I’d been prosecuting a case that required showing the jury elaborate maps.

Explaining one of the maps, I’d become confused about north and south and had to keep correcting myself in front of the jury.

After the trial (which I won) the judge had called me to his chambers and read me the riot act.

“Don’t you ever do that again,” he chided.

“You’ve got to know every detail of your case.

” Later, as attorney general going after irresponsible banks or a corrupt for-profit college, I was aware that what I said could move markets.

I have been conditioned by my career to weigh my every word.

I wanted the interview to be flawless. I needed my A game. I didn’t bring it, and that’s on me.

Bash’s first question: “If you are elected, what would you do on day one in the White House?”

It’s a cliché question and I should have expected it and had a pat answer in my pocket about the executive orders I intended to sign. The truth: Day one is performative. That’s not when the big problems are going to get solved.

So instead of a tidy, headline-making sound bite, I reeled off a slew of priorities such as extending the child tax credit—the most clearly proven way to quickly lift families out of poverty; the tax credit I wanted for first-time home buyers; my determination to end price gouging.

I was setting out my agenda, and on day one I would absolutely begin working on these things.

Unlike Trump, I didn’t have a mouthful of lies about ending wars and lowering grocery prices on day one.

I knew those kinds of things weren’t possible, and I wasn’t going to take the audience for fools.

I did slightly better on the follow-up. Bash asked me why I hadn’t already accomplished the items on my agenda during my time in office.

This gave me a chance to remind viewers of the chaos we’d inherited from Trump: the mismanaged Covid crisis, an economy in free fall.

Our priority, I said, had been saving lives and saving jobs, and we’d brought the US economy back faster than any other wealthy nation.

But I didn’t stop there. Joe was justifiably proud of that recovery and felt the statistics—inflation down below 3 percent from a high of over 9, wage increases outpacing inflation, millions of new jobs created—should be enough to convince people that he was a good manager of the economy.

But I knew people didn’t yet feel these metrics in their daily life.

It wasn’t what they experienced when they went to buy food or gas.

I addressed that pain, acknowledging that prices were still too high.

I said that’s why now, with the Covid crisis behind us, the time was right to enact all the cost-of-living measures I proposed.

It was a good answer. But there was a better one. I should have simply said, I haven’t done those things because I am not president—yet . It was a chance to offer a small civics class reminder: the vice president serves the president’s agenda; she does not have the power to forge her own.

I could also have been sharper with my answer to her question on fracking.

It took me longer than it should have to clearly articulate the plain truth of my position.

The climate crisis is an emergency. We urgently need to move off fossil fuels.

But evidence had convinced me that we could do that without ending fracking.

In 2020, I’d promised not to ban it, I hadn’t banned it as vice president, and I would not ban it as president.

I got there, but I could have gotten there quicker and cleaner.

I felt off my game for most of the interview.

Having Tim there beside me, in hindsight, was an error.

Bash asked him few questions, and none offered a moment that revealed his charismatic personality or convictions.

My campaign felt we should do the interview in tandem because it was a thing that had been done by prior candidates and their running mates.

But because we’d waited to do this interview, there was so much riding on it.

And the plan to have him there fed a narrative that I wasn’t willing or able to go it alone.

As we were beginning to wrap up, Bash asked me to comment on a photo from the convention that had gone viral: my baby niece Amara looking up at me as I stood behind the podium, flanked by American flags, accepting the nomination.

It’s a wonderful image. The picture is taken from behind her, so what you see is her upturned head bracketed by her two perky little braids.

I hadn’t belabored the historic nature of my candidacy as a Black woman.

I’d always felt that it was more important to stress that I was the most qualified person, regardless of race or gender.

But that photo somehow spoke volumes about the past and the future.

It reminded us how far we’ve come—that a woman and a person of color could be at that podium, accepting that nomination.

It also spoke volumes about how far we can go, when children grow up knowing anything is possible for someone who looks just like them.

It was the one answer where I would not change a word.