Duke Law Graduation 2023 | Apple General Counsel Kate Adams

Sorry to say, I have to pull these out for this. When I sat in that chair, I did not, but times have passed a little bit. Thank you so much, Dean Abrams, for introducing me and for also doing so much for the law school. I can tell from the awards that have been given and all of the amazing people sitting here in front of me, family and friends who are really enthusiastic. That's great! Well done! Who come here for this! And you all know, without them you wouldn't be here, and I know if I hadn't had my family — which I will get to — I wouldn't be here either. Now I do also want to specially thank and recognize the awesome Law School class of 2023. Thank you for bringing us all together! So, it's hard not to celebrate being here in Cameron Indoor. Great venue, I must say! And seeing you all in your graduation regalia, and thankfully not in Blue Devil wigs and face paint, and hopefully to leave the world better than you found it. I'd also especially like to recognize the Duke Law School faculty who have devoted themselves, over the past three years and more, to give you, the class of 2023, a phenomenal education. For your sake, they maintained a rigorous academic environment — notwithstanding lockdowns, Zoom learning, and the many challenges and tragedies of the pandemic. And graduates — you too persevered in the face of these uncertainties, and are now poised to become proud Juris Doctors. Here position you so well to find purpose and meaning in your professional and personal lives. In that vein, I want to recognize my parents who are here today, John and Patricia Adams, along with our daughter Harriet, who is about to graduate from Trinity tomorrow, and her friend and our friend Harrison, as well as my husband Duke, our son Woods, and our niece Violet. So I brought my supporters with me, too. Thanks to them for being here. But the real reason I wanted to mention them is because both of my parents, John and Patricia, from these two Duke alums that you might find useful as you begin your post-Duke lives. The first lesson I learned from my parents is that you can feed a lot of people with a four-pound chicken. I'll get to what that means in a second. Our family comes from quite humble origins; both my parents worked hard to pay their way through school, and when my two brothers and I were little, we lived in a two-room walk-up apartment in Greenwich Village in New York City. The back room was our bedroom, and my parents slept on a pullout couch in the living room. They could have chosen a more remunerative path. But early on, they both committed themselves to the National Resources Defense Council, created to enforce the country's nascent environmental laws. The National Environmental Protection Act and the Clean Air Act had just been passed, and the Clean Water Act would soon follow. Sometimes though, in those early days, we thought their life's work would crash before it got off the ground. The NRDC's opponents held many levers of power, and it would be a great understatement to say that not everyone agreed with the young environmentalists' radical ideas. At one point, NRDC's 501c3 status was revoked. The organization would have been doomed without the generosity and skill of a corporate tax attorney who, pro bono, brought a groundbreaking legal challenge. My parents' door was always open — and I mean that quite literally. Weeknights, groups of enthusiastic young lawyers, scientists, and advocates would gather at our apartment or meet for heated conversation at the local pizza joint. Weekends, unexpected guests would show up at the door — invited by my dad at some forgotten, earlier moment — only to be warmly welcomed, handed some cheap red wine, and drawn into the fray. And that's where I come to the chicken part. Now, chicken is a pretty cheap protein, and mom often had it in the fridge. Many was the night when she'd roast up a small four-pound chicken with whatever she had. And while you might leave our home inspired, excited, or slightly overwhelmed — you never left it hungry. Even when we didn't have a lot to give, we gave what we had. And that example of generosity and community has always stayed with me. Because sometimes, in our toughest moments, it can feel like what we have to give is not enough. That we can't offer something of value. That our ideas are unworthy or our actions insufficient — our poultry too paltry. But my parents taught me that whatever you have to give — wherever you are in life — is enough. Whether it's hospitality, pro bono legal services, or a chicken dinner. The opportunity to find purpose and meaning may be hiding in unexpected places. I was just finishing the clerkship I'd always dreamed of with Justice Sandra Day O'Connor. I knew to expect a brilliant legal mind, but it's her compassion and wisdom that left the deepest impression on me. But after that experience, I had to ask myself what was next. It turns out, the answer was: my rebellious phase. Putting aside the usual teenage shenanigans, which I enjoyed, my rebellion occurred well into my twenties. To the dismay of many in the environmental movement, after my second clerkship, I broke ranks. Instead of joining 'the mission,' I went to a New York law firm, and then to Honeywell, a company with, of all things, an enormous Superfund liability — the largest of any corporation in America. The company had a terrible reputation as a notorious polluter. So terrible, in fact, that a local politician once returned a Honeywell political contribution... That's right, a politician gave the money back to the company. Around that time, an environmentalist colleague of my parents asked me, 'So, when are you coming back over from the Dark Side?' You might quite reasonably ask why I took that job. It was certainly not the obvious choice. But interestingly, I found that I loved working in business, and that I had a knack for solving strategically complex problems. And I thought I might be able to make a difference from the inside. My parents taught me that the path I'd chosen would have its own rewards. And they were right. As it turns out, you can find professional meaning in unexpected places. The single biggest legal issue facing Honeywell at that time was responsibility for the cleanup of Onondaga Lake — a very large lake in upstate New York. It had been fouled by years of industrial pollution of the worst sort — PCBs, mercury, dioxins, lead, cadmium, raw sewage, you name it. As a result of many corporate mergers and acquisitions over many years, Honeywell was the sole company left to pay the bill to restore the lake. We could have taken the old school method of fight, fight, fight and then fight some more, and put off the day of reckoning and hope it would go away. Instead, we chose to partner with the community and the government to clean up the lake. After a decade and a half of hard work, we achieved that goal. Today, Onondaga Lake teems with fish and bird life. Eagles and osprey soar along its shores. Rowers and swimmers now enjoy its waters. That experience taught me that — wherever you may find yourself — the potential to make a difference is always present. So as you begin your careers, always remember: you can find incredibly rewarding experiences in the most unlikely of places. Now, finally, there is one last lesson I would like to share with you before the degrees are awarded. At one point, after listening in her 'special mom' way, she said to me: Don't wish your life away, Kate. Live it now. I can't say I fully appreciated the depth of what she said right then. It has taken me many years to appreciate the significance of NOW. But now is an amazing place. It is full of immediate possibilities, if you are open to them. That risky decision to join a troubled company at a difficult time — to take the opportunity that moment presented — was the crucial step that gave me the legal and management experience to eventually move to Apple. It might have seemed like a bad idea. But inevitably, you will learn as much from the detours as the destination. And that means the most important decision you can make is to capture the possibilities of this moment. There are infinite ways to broaden your experience by making the circle of options around you wider. Whether it's taking a pro bono case, joining the board of a worthy organization, asking to work on a new matter that interests you, or becoming involved in your local government. Our journey as professionals is a marathon — not a sprint. So savor each moment... And seize today's opportunity to enrich your lives and the lives of those around you. I think that's a worthy mission for any life. And I never would've found it without the example my parents set for me. So I hope these lessons are helpful to you, as they have been for me. I'm honored to share this day with you. And I wish you a future full of learning, full of joy, and full of purpose. Congratulations! Thank you!