The son of a black economist from Kenya and a white teacher from Kansas, Obama appears to be nothing if not humble. In his office Tuesday, he gave up his wing-backed chair to one of the dozens of reporters and camera crews standing in line for a few minutes of his time. Sitting for the first time at his historic place on the Senate floor -- last row, on the end -- he lifted the top of his newly assigned desk and curiously peeked inside.
When it was finally time to take the oath, he held his personal Bible, as family from as far away as Kenya watched from the visitors' gallery above. His daughters, Malia, 6, and Sasha, 3, in velvet dresses and patent leather shoes, bounced in their chairs when he looked up and waved.
A former community activist and state senator, Obama acknowledged that Washington's learning curve is steep. His first-year goals are rather modest: set up a constituent service office for the people of Illinois, help give them a good transportation bill and attempt to remedy the "inexcusable" treatment of veterans.
"I think if I work hard, I can make those happen," he said, sounding more like the new kid than the rock star. Even while most everyone around him seems to be expecting greatness, he claims to feel no pressure.
"The only burden I feel is to operate with honor and integrity, to work really hard," he said amid a fast-paced walk to the Capitol for one more first-day ceremony. Then he stopped, encountering another of his new colleagues, whose family had asked to shake Obama's hand.
His appeal transcends race. The first black president of the Harvard Law Review, he is a gifted orator and he did as well among voters in the white suburbs of Chicago as he did in its inner city.
The unanswered question is how far his new rank and his celebrity can carry him in a Senate that is tightly controlled by Republicans. Among his ambitions are to work on such issues as nuclear proliferation and conditions in Africa.
"Frankly," he said, "I was born in Hawaii and lived in Southeast Asia, so any hemisphere they toss at me, I probably have a little piece of me connected to it, and I think I can do some good."
The phones in his office were up and running by noon and proceeded to ring without stopping. "I'll be sure to pass that on to the senator," a receptionist promised, but the good wishes came in such a rush she didn't have time to write anything down.