News Archive

Good evening. I wrote this speech months ago, and suddenly on Monday, I felt as if it wasn’t good enough to say to you. I think that feeling sums up our transition through law school. This road was the one less traveled for many of us, but it’s been a joy to witness our collective growth.

For those of you who don’t know, in the second semester of 8th grade, I found myself facing something no one should have to: I was pregnant, and a month before my 15th birthday I gave birth to the big one sitting right there. As I stand before you, in a much different space than I was then, still deeply flawed and inconsistent, I humbly request that one day again, you will give someone the same grace as you have given me throughout this journey.

You believed in a sometimes tenacious, mother of five, who entered law school on a literal hope and prayer, and when you are judges and law firm partners, I challenge you to boldly support policies that recognize the potential in others. It only takes one person to legitimize you in this filed. Be that person, because sometimes silence is worse than actively working in opposition to someone.

Our legal community is small but mighty. Honor the people who are sitting in the chairs around you by elevating them whenever possible. The same goes for your loved ones, because we owe each of them a great deal of gratitude for their sacrifices and support.

I don’t have time to highlight even a fraction of the meaningful encounters I’ve had with all of you, but I will say this: I’ve experienced no safer space than your friendship and mentorship and I am thankful for each of you.

Professor Sullivan, I am sorry I bombed Secured Transactions. But it is you, Professor Magliocca, Professor Baker, Silva, and so many others, who know more than our names, you know our stories, and McKinney as an institution is all the better for it.

To every black student and student of color who is graduating, this journey is and will be especially difficult. You won’t have legacy legitimacy or the privilege of assumption. But you better walk into rooms with your head held high, well deserving of all that you will accomplish.

Zakwon, Tegan, Harlow, Kerrigan, and Kiernan —everything I do is in honor of you. Mommy loves you.

Class, I see your promise, and as long as there is breath in my lungs, I will be there to celebrate each of you. My father cannot be here today to witness me go from teen mom to attorney, but I believe he would want me to leave you with this:  No matter whose name is on the building that you walk into after you graduate, never lose who you are and what you stand for. Be courageous in everything you do. Thank you.