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.

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

One of the greatest privileges of teaching the Restorative Justice Workshop at Marquette Law School is watching students deepen not only as future lawyers but as human beings.

Law school asks a great deal of students. It teaches discipline, analytical rigor, advocacy, precision, and resilience. Those are essential skills, and I deeply value legal education and the extraordinary faculty and experiences our students encounter throughout their journey. But alongside intellectual growth, many students are also trying to hold onto something more personal: their sense of purpose, humanity, and connection to the people behind the cases.

This semester, one student’s final reflection captured that tension with remarkable honesty. I relate this with full permission even as I have elected not to attribute it.