Justice Jane Bland ’90, a member of the Supreme Court of Texas since 2019 and former justice on the First Court of Appeals, delivered the convocation speech for the Texas Law 2025 Sunflower Ceremony, held on May 10 at the Gregory Gym on The University of Texas at Austin campus.
Bland shared her words of wisdom in an inspirational speech delivered to the 331 graduates, as well as family members and friends in attendance, along with those livestreaming the ceremony on YouTube. “You are the law school’s next generation of lawyers, a UT legacy far more meaningful than a gym,” Bland said. “Over the last three years, you have adapted to change at an ever-quickening pace—in our society, in law, and in your personal lives. The grit and agility you needed to earn a law degree will help you recognize obstacles but not be defeated by them, understand different perspectives, and overcome blind spots—your clients’ and your own.”
Widely recognized for her commitment to judicial excellence and leadership in legal reform, Bland has been awarded with many prestigious honors throughout her over 25 years serving in the Texas judiciary. Her achievements include the distinguished William H. Rehnquist Award presented by Chief Justice John Roberts in 2010, being named Judge of the Year four times by the Texas Association of Civil Trial and Appellate Specialists, and multiple President’s Awards for her work with the Houston Bar Association and the Houston Young Lawyers Association.
The announcement of Bland’s role as the convocation speaker for this year’s Sunflower Ceremony was met with excitement from Dean Bobby Chesney, who praised her impact on the legal community. “Justice Bland is a great leader in Texas and in the profession” said Dean Bobby Chesney. “Her career has been inspiring.”
Bland encouraged the graduates to incorporate integrity and civility both in their daily lives and professional ventures, “You are the talented, ethical lawyers we want guiding society’s future decisions. We need people like you, who foster excellence, who seek collegiality even in adversity of opinion or circumstance, and who confront your own weaknesses in a continuing effort to better yourself and your profession. I look around this room and can confidently say that, right now, you are better lawyers than you think you are. I realize for a few of you that’s a high bar. For everyone else, should a grain of self-doubt emerge next year, stop and say: ‘I am a better lawyer than I think I am.’”
A full transcript of Bland’s remarks can be viewed below the video of her speech.
Graduates of the Class of 2025, and all gathered here and watching you online cheering you on:
Congratulations and well done! Today is a celebration and the beginning of a new chapter—one filled with experiences only a law degree can provide.
Thomas Gregory—a lawyer—raised the funds to build this gym in 1930. One of UT’s first graduates, he later became attorney general. By the time I stood in your shoes in 1990, and if you are one of the lucky ones to have been called on by Goode, Johansen, Sturley, Silver, Powe, Hu, or Levinson—not fully prepared—then I truly have stood in your shoes; by 1990 Gregory Gym was no place for a graduation, or even a workout. It was not air conditioned and stank of sweat. The building had to adapt—with a new, student-driven version that preserved elements of the old.
You are the law school’s next generation of lawyers, a UT legacy far more meaningful than a gym. Over the last three years, you have adapted to change at an ever-quickening pace—in our society, in law, and in your personal lives. The grit and agility you needed to earn a law degree will help you recognize obstacles but not be defeated by them, understand different perspectives, and overcome blind spots—your clients’ and your own. When work is difficult, it can be hard to look past our discomfort in the moment and see that we have gained desirable traits like agility and grit. But as you reflect on the challenges you have overcome in your legal education, I hope you now can see it.
It is time to take what you have learned into the world and share it.
In Texas, lawyers take an oath to practice integrity and civility in addition to fidelity to the law. The emphasis on integrity recognizes the gravity of the choices lawyers face. Ours is a profession dedicated to solving problems and resolving conflict. Our professional lives are about decisions—our own and the ones made by those who depend on our advice. How we frame these decisions can make all the difference.
Neuroscientists tell us that a default setting influences behavior. It is why Google Chrome fights so hard with Apple Safari to become your default web browser. People gravitate to the status quo because sticking with it requires less cognitive effort. A default web browser may affect your internet experience, but the consequences of legal decisions are serious and play out across society—including the rules for web browsers. In large measure, legal thinking creates the rules we live by. Legal defaults become the principles that govern conduct for everyone.
How does one incorporate integrity as a default in legal decision-making? First, ask questions, knowing you do not have all the answers. Possess, and nurture, a curiosity without preconception. Be open to feedback that questions whether a legal position is a just one.
Second, put others in a position to make good decisions by rooting your legal advice in an honest assessment of the facts. Take what you have learned at Texas Law about respect and tolerance into your professional life; use it to guide your interactions. Over the next decades, you will tackle tough challenges. Working with others, it will be your touch embedded in the solutions to these challenges.
Third, appreciate that comparisons are odious. People who constantly compare themselves with others, even favorably, find less satisfaction in their work and in life. Though I am very proud, Sophie, that your class returned us to the T-14. As lawyers, metrics abound: how do my billable hours compare with others’? How about my starting salary? Did I obtain the top jury verdict last year? These measurements can be useful marketing tools. But try not to use them to gauge your value as a lawyer or the value of your work. Our value as lawyers instead is in what we do for others: our clients, our system of justice, and our society. Find that intrinsic value in your daily work. No matter how mundane the task, remind yourself that you are helping another person address a legal problem. Knowing your real value rather than relentlessly grasping at external benchmarks as the measure of your worth will help you weather setbacks and begin again.
What does this have to do with integrity? In business school, students learn about the “fraud triangle” of opportunity, incentive, and rationalization. As lawyers, you will be tested by opportunities to act dishonestly. Given the trust society and our clients place in us, we more than others must resist overreliance on metrics that pressure us to depart from what we know is right or to use those metrics in a poor attempt to rationalize what we know is not right. The other virtue our oath as lawyers focuses on is civility. However much we as lawyers may disagree with each other in principle, we must build relationships that allow us to work together productively. When I was your age, I would not have stopped to consider civility as an ideal, but incivility is damaging in unobvious ways. Participants in a study who witnessed rudeness before watching a video of a table tennis game were far less likely to spot a man in a gorilla costume walking through the frame about halfway through. As lawyers, we are there to spot the gorilla. But merely viewing another’s incivility impairs our thinking, compromising our ability to notice critical facts and make good decisions. At the 5th Circuit conference this week, a physician highlighted studies revealing that incivility increases stress, adversely affecting physical health.
It is no secret we have seen a decline in respect for government institutions and the legal profession, and a departure throughout society from civility toward one another. What can we as lawyers do to change this trajectory? First, model civility for others. Foster connections and make colleagues and your adversaries feel heard and respected. Resist the temptation of isolation, perhaps especially when you most want to be left alone. Isolation can lead to undue worry, rumination, and the crankiness that leads to incivility. It leads to texts you wish you had never sent.
Second, view rudeness in others charitably when you can. This is hard—especially when driving in graduation traffic. Remember that rudeness often reflects misplaced stress or an ignorant failure to appreciate a different perspective, not an intentional insult. Spend time with people who are not lawyers, whose moral compasses are a check on an overly legalistic approach to ethics. They understand, more than we do, the value of the catchphrase, “Be kind, not right.” As lawyers, try to be both.
The gorilla study comes from Professor Christine Porath’s work on this topic. She offers career affirming research for those who make an effort to be civil. Managers seen as civil are twice as likely to be viewed as leaders. People are motivated to work harder for a person they consider to be civil. People who share gratitude for another’s help are viewed, yes, as more civil, but also as more competent.
It is true and often said that people take more to heart what they watch us do than what they hear us say. Before we act, though, we often frame our next steps in our thoughts and our words. These thoughts spur and hopefully shape our future actions. Perhaps the power of words to influence our behavior is why mission statements and mottos are so ubiquitous. UT is full of them:
Walter Cronkite, earnestly intoning on game days: “What starts here changes the world.”
A reminder, at eye level on the Tower: “Ye shall know the truth and the truth shall make you free.”
An ideal, etched above the law school entrance: “That they may truly and impartially administer justice.”
Our court’s age-old motto is “Sicut patribus sit deus nobis:” “God be with us, as He was with our fathers.” I would add “mothers” this Mother’s Day weekend. Perhaps a recognition that our court needs all the help we can get.
Come up with a motto that works for you, one that encapsulates the values that you cherish above all else. Use it to set your default. Until you have one, you are welcome to borrow mine: “Save the best part of yourself for the people you love.” Law is a noble occupation, but it is just that: an occupation. Your family, and friends who are like family, are more than that—they will be with you through career highs and career lows, through joy and sorrow. We tend to put our best foot forward for clients, bosses, and when in court, or making commencement speeches. Our loved ones know us better than that—and love us in all our imperfection. So, in the years to come, on the drive home from work, take a deep breath, wash away any grouchiness or worry the day has brought, and give your loved ones the best part of you. Embrace the chaos of spilled milk and making spaghetti in a navy suit with a toddler on your hip. Marvel in it.
Conference days are tough at the Texas Supreme Court. I am grateful at the end, when a senior justice opens his back porch to all of us, and we look over the Texas Capitol in the twilight. There is an enchantment that comes from sitting on a porch, enjoying each other’s company after an exhausting day. We restore each other’s spirits. Try to find the place and the time to be restorative for your family and your future colleagues. A similar restorative enchantment comes at reaching milestones like this one, where in the blink of an eye, three years of a world revolving around the law school gives way to a lifetime of new professional horizons. Hug the people who helped make this moment happen.
The continuing complexity of our society sets a tall order for today’s law graduates. I have no worries. You are the talented, ethical lawyers we want guiding society’s future decisions. We need people like you, who foster excellence, who seek collegiality even in adversity of opinion or circumstance, and who confront your own weaknesses in a continuing effort to better yourself and your profession. I look around this room and can confidently say that, right now, you are better lawyers than you think you are. I realize for a few of you that’s a high bar. For everyone else, should a grain of self-doubt emerge next year, stop and say: “I am a better lawyer than I think I am.” Welcome to the beginning of your professional journey. May grace and peace accompany you throughout it. And as a fellow alum of Texas Law, Hook ’em Horns!