This is the last in a series of three blog posts, at the end of the academic year, by the director of the Law School’s Andrew Center for Restorative Justice.

In many ways, restorative justice is the opposite of a shortcut.

It asks law students to slow down, sit with discomfort, listen to one another, and resist the urge to immediately judge or fix. It requires presence. It requires vulnerability. And, perhaps most importantly, it requires humanity. In a time when technology, including artificial intelligence in particular, is reshaping how students learn and process information, restorative justice has become one of the most profound human experiences in my classroom at Marquette Law School, through the work of the Andrew Center for Restorative Justice.

Like many educators, I have watched students turn to technology for answers, for summaries, for efficiency. And I understand the appeal. The law is complex. The reading is dense. The days are long. But restorative justice has taught me that much important learning in a law school classroom is not found in the quickest answer, the perfect outline, or a polished response generated in seconds. It is found in the pause before speaking. In the courage to share a personal story. In the humility to listen.

This is the second of three blog posts, at the end of the academic year, by the director of the Law School’s Andrew Center for Restorative Justice.

On April 25, I had the privilege of closing out the G. Lane Ware Leadership Academy at the State Bar of Wisconsin. It was an inspiring day filled with lawyers who have invested in their growth, their leadership, and their commitment to the profession.

In my keynote, I spoke about what I have come to understand about restorative leadership as a way of leading that is grounded not just in skill or strategy, but in how we show up for others, especially in moments of challenge, conflict, and uncertainty. Leadership, I shared, is not something we step into one day. It is something we practice every day, in small and often unseen moments.

My path into the legal profession—and eventually to the bench and now to the Andrew Center for Restorative Justice—was shaped by a simple but powerful lesson: service matters. From watching my mother and father quietly serve others in our community, to taking early pro bono cases and walking alongside clients in crisis, I came to understand that the law is not just about rules or outcomes. It is about people, dignity, and being present when others need support most. Over time, I began to understand that those experiences were not just shaping my career—they were shaping how I lead.