The new president’s young family will have to learn quickly how to balance their new, very public lives with family life in the White House. In the Louisiana Governor’s Mansion, the Jindal family has spent the past year learning to do the same.
One year after taking office, Gov. Bobby Jindal and First Lady Supriya Jolly Jindal insist the challenges of raising 6-year-old Selia, 4-year-old Shaan and 2-year-old Slade aren’t that unusual.
“It’s just making time for everything in a day,” Supriya says. “There are so many things you’ve got to juggle to make the day work … [and] making sure we give each child individual attention.”
Even with a mansion staff of 22, it still takes an extended family to raise Louisiana’s first family. “My family is extremely important,” the governor says, “and I make them a priority. Because of the nature of the job, the reality is Supriya does a disproportionate share of the work. I don’t know how this would be possible without having a great family that works well together. It’s great to have grandparents that can help.”
Both Jindals say their kids’ young age has allowed them to easily adapt to the move from Kenner to Baton Rouge, new schools and the demands of their father’s job. “We just want them to be regular kids,” the governor explains. “So, in a way, it’s a good thing they’re not old enough to understand or really be bothered by my job and what that means.”
Exactly what their dad does for a living has led to quite a bit of speculation. Shortly after the move to the mansion, Shaan excitedly greeted his father and asked to see his badge. Even though the little boy with a fondness for police cars and fire engines was disappointed to discover his father didn’t have a badge, the conversation was far from over:
“You’re not a state trooper?”
No, Shaan, I’m the governor.
“Does the governor work for the state troopers?”
Yeah, we kind of do.
“It’s hard to explain to a young child what it is exactly that the governor does,” Jindal says. “They look at us and think [we] just go to meetings all day. How interesting is that? We’re trying to teach them that it’s about helping people and serving people.”
Bobby Jindal began his career in public service before he even began a family. In 1996, the 25-year-old secretary of the Louisiana Department of Health and Hospitals invited the future First Lady to the governor’s Mardi Gras ball for a first date. A few months later, the pair married at St. Joseph’s Cathedral with a reception at the Governor’s Mansion.
Selia, the couple’s first child, was born while her father served as assistant secretary for the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services in 2002. Shaan was born in 2004, the year Jindal was elected to the 109th Congress. Not to be outdone, the youngest immediately captured the attention of his parents and the press. Too impatient for a hospital birth, Slade was delivered by his father in the family’s Kenner home in 2006.
So, rather than finding themselves suddenly in the spotlight, the Jindal family has grown up accustomed to its glare. And, while they may not always bask in its glow, the Jindals have learned to take the heat.
Early on, the children joined political festivities—appearing at election night victory celebrations and inaugural events. The inauguration and the ball afterward were a good reminder of the dual challenges the gubernatorial parents faced.
“When I was giving my speech, the grandparents were trying desperately to hold them still, to get them to stand and behave,” Jindal says with a laugh. “A kid’s not going to sit through a speech. We don’t expect them to.”
That night, the First Lady recalls, “We brought them to the inaugural ball, but we didn’t stay as long. We left early. It was a school night. We had to get them to bed.”
For the most part, the Jindal children seem to take their parents’ high-profile activities in stride. “I think when you’re a child, a lot of times you think whatever you see and experience is normal. So you may not even realize that this isn’t what other children do,” Jindal muses. “We’re working very hard to make sure they get a sense that this is not always going to be what their life is. We don’t want them to think they’re any different than other children.”
With the new house, however, came some new rules. “I remember explaining to them that they are not allowed to color on the walls, to hide Cheerios in the furniture, to leave their toys everywhere,” Jindal explains. “But I don’t want them to feel like they are living in a museum.”
While the affairs of state may be conducted around a custom-designed table set with Herend china, the typical Jindal family dinner takes place in a casual room on plastic plates brought from their Kenner home along with the playroom furniture.
Besides the installation of outlet covers and stairwell safety gates, Supriya says, “All the low-hanging, antique-looking vases and things were relocated higher. Even the shelves of the kitchen are now kid-friendly.” And that’s not all that’s changed.
Following an afternoon meeting with business and education leaders at the mansion, a university president complimented Jindal’s family. The governor hadn’t realized the group had met his children until his guest explained, “Your little boy came and put us in time out while we were waiting.”
Before the children arrived, the Louisiana Governor’s Mansion Foundation installed a playscape in the yard. Still, Selia finds some mansion activities perplexing. “She wanted to know why people have parties in her house and she can’t go. We’ve tried to explain you’re not invited to everybody’s party,” the First Lady says gently.
The foundation’s buy-a-brick fundraiser left the little girl wondering why other people’s names were on her house. “We’ve reminded them that this isn’t our house,” says the governor. “We’re just living here temporarily. It belongs to the people. In the beginning, it was a little bit of a culture shock. So we bought a brick for her, so she could see her name outside.”
Besides sharing their home with the people of Louisiana, the Jindal children have also learned to share their parents. “People are not going try to do business when your kid is eager to ride on the rides or get something to eat. People are very friendly, and I encourage them to come talk to us. Look, I work for them. I want to hear from them,” Jindal says. “Our experience has always been that people all have been extremely polite. Extremely respectful.”
Conversely, the Jindals encourage their children to be well-behaved and reap the same results as other parents. “They try their best to be polite, and most of the time they are,” Jindal says. “It would be unrealistic to expect little kids to go that long every day without having a moment or without sometimes getting impatient. That’s what kids do.”
In balancing his public service and family life, Jindal remains mindful of a conversation with U.S. Rep. Jim McCrery, for whom he worked as a college student. At one point in his career, the Shreveport congressman expressed concern that if he stayed in Washington long enough to become chairman of the Ways and Means Committee, he would miss his boys’ entire childhood in Shreveport.
“Watching Jim made me realize that your kids grow up very quickly, and you better treasure those moments and make time for them. Because you’ll blink and all of the sudden they’ll be adults, and you’ll never get that time back. There’ll always be time for other things, but your kids only grow up once.”
For now, Jindal treasures his involvement in the growth and development of both his children and his state. “I married a girl—a woman—I’ve liked since high school. I’ve got three beautiful kids. I get to work on issues I’m passionate about to try to improve our state. And, so, I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”
