Creating The Arena: The Story Behind My Theodore Roosevelt Presidential Library Commission

When I accepted the commission to create a painting for the Theodore Roosevelt Presidential Library, I knew it would be one of the greatest honors of my career.

I never expected it would also become one of the most transformative experiences of my life.

In July, I had the privilege of attending the grand opening of the Theodore Roosevelt Presidential Library in Medora, North Dakota. Standing inside the completed library and seeing my painting installed among the stories of Theodore Roosevelt's life was surreal. After months of living with this work—thinking about it, wrestling with it, and pouring myself into every brushstroke—it was finally time to let it go.

Knowing that it will remain in this Presidential Library for generations is a privilege I will never take for granted.

More Than a Commission

From the beginning, I knew I wanted this painting to be more than an illustration of history.

My work has always been abstract and experiential. Rather than telling viewers exactly what to see, I hope each person brings their own experiences and emotions to the work.

As I immersed myself in Theodore Roosevelt's life in the North Dakota Badlands, one chapter captivated me above all others: the unimaginable grief he experienced after losing both his mother and his young wife on the very same day in 1884.

Roosevelt returned to the Badlands searching for healing.

I had no idea that while studying his story, I would unexpectedly begin walking through my own.

When History Became Personal

Just two days after sharing dinner together, my grandmother—our family's matriarch and one of my closest confidants—passed away unexpectedly.

That evening, we had talked about this very painting.

She encouraged me to include the Badlands crocus, the first wildflower to bloom each spring, as a symbol of resilience, hope, and renewal.

After she passed, those words took on an entirely new meaning.

This project was no longer simply a commission.

It became a journey through grief, healing, and hope.

The Meaning Hidden Within the Painting

The finished piece, The Arena, spans two canvases placed side by side.

Originally, they represented the two devastating losses Theodore Roosevelt endured in a single day.

As the work evolved, they came to represent something more personal: two women standing beside one another—Roosevelt's mother and wife, and my grandmother and me.

The lower half of the painting is intentionally filled with darkness. As your eyes move upward, light gradually returns.

The sweeping movement echoes the landscape of the North Dakota Badlands, while soft violets and pinks quietly honor my grandmother.

Hidden within the composition is Roosevelt's journal entry from the darkest day of his life—an "X" that serves as a subtle reminder that even our deepest pain can become part of a larger story of resilience.

You may see grief.

You may see hope.

Both are true.

That is exactly what I hoped this painting would become.

Finding Courage in "The Arena"

Throughout the months I spent creating this work, I began nearly every day by rereading Theodore Roosevelt's famous Man in the Arena speech.

Whenever I felt overwhelmed or questioned whether I could finish, those words reminded me why courage matters.

Standing inside the library during opening week and seeing an entire room dedicated to that speech was deeply moving.

The experience reminded me that "the arena" isn't reserved for presidents, artists, or public figures.

It's wherever ordinary people choose courage over comfort.

A Library Built to Inspire

One moment during opening week has stayed with me.

Theodore Roosevelt's great-great-grandson shared that if visitors leave the library inspired to step into their own arena and make a difference in the world, then the library has fulfilled its purpose.

That idea captures exactly what makes this place so special.

The Theodore Roosevelt Presidential Library is far more than a museum.

It is an invitation to live courageously, embrace life's challenges, and discover who we are capable of becoming.

Watching the library team's vision come to life after years of dedication was inspiring in itself, and I feel incredibly grateful to have played even a small part in that story.

Gratitude

This painting may carry my signature, but it was never created alone.

Throughout the months leading up to the opening, so many people carried me when I wasn't sure I could finish.

Your encouragement.

Your prayers.

Your coffee deliveries.

Your lunches.

Your ideas.

Your unwavering belief.

Every act of kindness became part of this journey.

To everyone who reached out, checked in, or reminded me to keep going—thank you.

I am especially grateful to the Theodore Roosevelt Presidential Library for believing in local artists and for creating space for women artists to tell stories that matter.

Women remain significantly underrepresented in major museum collections, making this opportunity all the more meaningful. To represent North Dakota as a local woman artist in a Presidential Library is an honor I will cherish forever.

My Hope

More than anything, I hope this story encourages you to step into your own arena.

Whatever fear has been holding you back, I hope you'll find the courage to move through it.

The arena isn't a place.

It's a decision.

It's choosing purpose over fear.

It's believing that even our darkest seasons can become part of something beautiful.

And if this painting inspires even one person to take that next courageous step, then every brushstroke was worth it.







Jessica Wachter