Halfway through his thirties, Adam Boyd has racked up a surprisingly extensive list of professional accomplishments. He has sailed out of the trenches of public defense work in Massachusetts into a crim-imm focused solo practice in Tacoma and straight on to the top of the career ladder as managing partner at Gibbs Houston Pauw, one of the more renowned immigration law firms in Seattle.
This trajectory does not particularly surprise those who know Adam. He has known that he wanted to be a lawyer since junior high, when he began to understand that he wanted to be in the fight. He dove into debate, and during his undergraduate studies at Pacific Lutheran University in Tacoma, he created his own track within Global Studies, focusing on “responses to international violence and conflict” and researching Algeria’s fight against colonialism.
For a time, Adam thought that he would pursue a career in international criminal law. While finishing his law degree at Boston College, he worked on a memorable first case as part of the defense team for an individual charged with lying to authorities after the Boston Marathon bombing. But by this time Adam was married to his college sweetheart Meg, and moving to The Hague was no longer part of the plan. Through a law school clinic, Adam worked on his first asylum case, and he was hooked.
Adam found his calling at the intersection of immigration and criminal law. As a public defender in Massachusetts, he represented immigrants in criminal court, and he came to understand that the repercussions of criminal charges were not the same for everyone. A criminal conviction might result in the very same sentence for a person with U.S. citizenship and someone without, but the non-citizen would likely face immigration charges as well. And whereas everyone has a right to representation in criminal court, there are no such provisions for immigrants facing deportation, even if the results mean life or death.
With that in mind, upon returning to the Pacific Northwest with his young family, Adam focused on providing representation for people in immigration detention. He spent a year learning the ropes as an associate before starting his own private practice in Tacoma just before he turned thirty. He got involved with the American Immigration Lawyers Association, where the Washington chapter welcomed his energy and enthusiasm. Adam served as the head of the Asylum Committee as well as the chapter’s Treasurer. He also participated in pro bono naturalization clinics run by OneAmerica, and he aided with the launch of the Washington Immigration Defense Network, which aims to provide attorneys who do not specialize in immigration law with training, mentorship, and resources to take an immigration case pro bono. The many people who have come to know Adam have recognized his determination, his perceptive reasoning, and his generosity with time and attention.
Just short of a decade in practice, Adam has found his sweet spot, handling complex removal defense for clients with serious criminal histories. He recognizes that immigration law incorporates both the emotional and the intellectual, and he makes the most of the challenges this presents. On any given Tuesday, he may be found at the Northwest ICE Processing Center in Tacoma doing a bond hearing for someone with a long list of misdemeanor convictions, then zipping back to the office to knock out a motion before arguing for protection at the Seattle Immigration Court for an asylum seeker from Eritrea who was tortured when he fled perpetual conscription. On a national level, Adam has been working with the American Immigration Council to file federal class-action lawsuits challenging the increasing bureaucratic delays in immigration case processing that leave countless numbers of people in limbo for years at a time.
Adam seems to thrive on the pressure, as well as strong black coffee. His office door is rarely closed, and he does his best to answer the constant calls from clients and colleagues. He is always available to answer a question or to think over case strategy — except on Wednesday evenings or Saturday afternoons (depending on the season), which are devoted to his lifelong passion for sailing.
