The
Strategist
STEPHEN GRAHAM TAKES
BATTLEFIELD STRATEGY FROM
BOARD GAME TO BOARDROOM
BY BOB GEBALLE
Ask Stephen Graham about his
life and he’ll tell you it’s not very
interesting. “I’m just a small-town kid from East Texas,” he
says, settling his lanky frame
into a chair in the 10th floor
conference room at Fenwick &
West in downtown Seattle.
Not just any small-town “kid,” as it turns out.
Graham, 60, is the lead biosciences attorney
and managing partner at Fenwick’s recently
opened Seattle office. The Silicon Valley-based
firm, known for its expertise in high-tech and
biotech, sprouted a branch here in 2008 and
courted Graham to run the office. His clients
have included ZymoGenetics, Immunex Corp.,
Allozyne and AmpliPhi Biosciences Corp.
(formerly Targeted Genetics Corp.). He has
represented public and private companies in
mergers and acquisitions totaling hundreds of
millions of dollars.
Also, not just any small town. Graham’s
hometown—Prairie View—was highly
unusual. It is home to a historically black
university, set up by the Texas Legislature
after the Civil War as an “Agricultural and
Mechanical College” for black students.
Because of the rare educational opportunity,
the town was essentially all-black when
Graham, whose father was dean of the
engineering school, was a child. For a young
African-American child growing up in an
intolerant South, Prairie View was a haven,
Graham says. “We had a community; we
weren’t excluded. Of course, we had to
deal with segregated beaches and water
fountains outside of Prairie View, but that
was a reality that didn’t matter. So I didn’t
have feelings that race was an issue.”
That changed when Graham was 9, and
his father started working on his doctorate
in civil engineering at Iowa State University,
where he stayed on as a professor. “We
moved from an all-black town in Texas to an
all-white town in Iowa when I was in third
grade.” It was a bit disorienting. “Something
struck me,” Graham recalls, “but I didn’t
know what it was. … Then I realized, ‘Where
did all the black people go?’ I really didn’t
know I was black until then.”
Racial attitudes in Ames, Iowa, were
different from those in Prairie View. “It was
the first time I was dealing with people who
called attention to race,” Graham says. But
by that time, his self-esteem was well-
developed. “I had spent my whole life being
accepted. In Iowa, that part didn’t change.”
Looking back at a childhood that was
significantly different from that of many
children, especially other black youth in
the South, Graham says, “Most people
didn’t grow up with the freedom I did. I had
access to a university as a playground.” High
academic expectations went along with the
territory. “We were always expected to have
good grades—I really didn’t have a choice.”
Graham excelled in the classroom. He
imagined a career as an entomologist until
he had a chance to be a summer assistant
and decided the idea was more entertaining
than the practice. He attended Iowa State,
graduating with a degree in political science in
1973, and headed to law school. “I had decided
that I liked people and I enjoyed arguing. I was
good at communication and good on my feet.”
Graham was accepted to Harvard, but with
the advice and support of his adviser, political
science professor Alston J. Shakeshaft, he
applied to Yale. “Shakeshaft was a brilliant
guy, but I thought he was a racist when I first
met him,” Graham says with a laugh. “I mean,
you’d go to his office, he was gruff, mean,
and he never did smile. But I realized he saw
something in me.” Graham says Shakeshaft
called him aside one afternoon. “He had this
book on all these law schools. He sort of threw
it at me and said, ‘Read this stuff! Law schools
are dying to add diversity!’ Then he finally
said, ‘Yale’s the place for you—you get the
grades, I’ll make sure you get in.’ And he did.”
Graham maintained a close relationship with
Shakeshaft until he died 11 years ago.
