Kenton Brice sits at the center of what he calls "a massive Venn diagram"—law libraries, legal technology, higher education, and the practicing bar—and from that unique vantage point, he sees something most people miss: law schools have zero incentive to change. With three powerful forces keeping the status quo locked in place (U.S. News rankings, ABA accreditation, and unlimited student loans), traditional legal education persists even as the profession transforms around it.

In this episode of Lawyers Who Learn, host David Schnurman explores Kenton's vision for reimagining legal education at the University of Oklahoma College of Law, where he directs the law library and runs the Digital Initiative—a 12-year experiment in building technology competencies outside the required curriculum. Through Tuesday and Thursday lunch-and-learns, conference trips, and hands-on workshops, Kenton prepares students for a profession where managed service organizations are disrupting traditional firm structures and AI is forcing a complete rethinking of legal service delivery.

The conversation moves from practical questions about preserving legal materials in a digital age to provocative ideas about trashing the bar exam entirely. His blueprint for building a law school from scratch prioritizes design-oriented curiosity over doctrinal mastery, AI-infused hybrid learning over traditional lectures, and two years of intensive study over three years of diminishing returns.

But Kenton's real passion emerges in his vision for the "holistic lawyer." Beyond competencies and technology, he wants lawyers who see themselves as protectors of democracy, not just service providers. When 78% of people can't access the civil justice system and a single mother facing eviction can't find representation, Kenton asks the fundamental question: can we make money and serve people at the same time? His answer, drawn from his men's reading group discussions of Man's Search for Meaning and his weekend woodworking projects, is an emphatic yes—if we're willing to reimagine the profession entirely.

When Jennifer Rakstad's firm surveyed their associates, the feedback was clear: traditional training wasn't having the impact they wanted. As Senior Manager of Learning and Development at White & Case, Jennifer worked hand in hand with a committee of partners to lead the creation of Momentum—a three-day immersive program that's already reached 350 lawyers. What makes it different: every session is designed and taught by the firm's own partners and senior associates, for a true “lawyer-led” experience.

In this episode of Lawyers Who Learn, host David Schnurman explores Jennifer's path from litigation to professional development. After applying to 200 judges for clerkships with over a dozen interviews and receiving zero offers, Jennifer regrouped with a targeted approach that landed her a federal clerkship in Puerto Rico. Seven years into litigation practice at Mayer Brown, a colleague noticed her passion for firm initiatives and recruiting work, asking if she'd consider pivoting entirely. That conversation led to her becoming one of the first ICF-certified coaches in a law firm.

The Momentum program represents a major investment, taking associates offsite for three days with full partner faculty involvement. The program creates cohort experiences where associates learn from partners who've been in the trenches, with plans to have participants eventually teach each other.

Jennifer also shares how a fractured ankle during a family trip to Japan transformed her perspective on accessibility challenges. Despite doctors suggesting she fly home, she completed two more weeks in Japan on crutches, followed by two months in a wheelchair. That experience reinforced the empathy that drives her work developing lawyers.

Sarah Ennor spent years as a securities lawyer at major banks, excelling at sophisticated legal work but challenged by corporate politics and what she sometimes thought was lack of motivation and discipline. In 2015, she left corporate law, traveled to Sri Lanka for a 10-day silent meditation retreat, worked and lived on a New Zealand winery, and returned to launch her own legal practice. But running a solo practice without corporate infrastructure proved unexpectedly overwhelming, until a stranger at a cocktail party asked if she had ADHD.

In this episode of Lawyers Who Learn, host David Schnurman explores Sarah's journey from that eye-opening conversation to formal diagnosis, and ultimately to becoming a sought-after speaker who makes ADHD "human and profitable" for law firms and their attorneys, and corporations.

Sarah reveals why lawyers are drawn to the profession's constant urgency and novel problems (the very dopamine hits that ADHD brains crave) while also explaining why law firms often punish the behaviors that come with the condition. When she finally tried medication, the fog lifted and she realized she'd been working ten times harder than necessary. She now helps firms move beyond surface-level awareness to create genuinely supportive environments through curiosity and outcome-focused thinking.

This conversation goes beyond the "ADHD as superpower" narrative to honestly address the disability many face and the transformative power of self-compassion over discipline. These insights resonate deeply even for those still navigating their own undiagnosed experiences.

Yeve Chitiga immigrated to the United States at sixteen with clear goals shaped by hope and determination: college, law school, becoming an attorney. She followed that path, working in banking in London and later as a corporate lawyer at a top firm, reaching milestones that surpassed her wildest dreams. Along the way, a quieter inner question began to surface about meaning, contribution, and alignment.

In this episode of Lawyers Who Learn, host David Schnurman explores Yeve’s journey from financial services attorney to career transition coach for high-achieving professionals in demanding environments. Raised in Zimbabwe, Yeve grew up in a culture rooted in connection where there are no strangers, only extended family. That deep belief in belonging now shapes the heart of her coaching work.

Rather than one dramatic turning point, Yeve’s story is marked by a series of moments that invited reflection and realignment across different chapters of her life. Each asked the same essential question: What kind of impact do I want to make? Over time, the answer softened and clarified—meaningful, human-scale impact through one-on-one connection. Motherhood deepened this shift, reshaping success into presence, listening, and moments like when her little one says, “Mommy, I love that you just listened to me.” Then a career shift allowed her to fully embrace pivoting from law to coaching.

The conversation weaves through boundaries, faith, cultural expectations, and Yeve’s vision for an intimate retreat at Victoria Falls, one of the world’s most awe-inspiring natural wonders. With its rising mist, roaming wildlife, and expansive sunsets, Victoria Falls becomes both a setting and an invitation: to slow down, reconnect, and rediscover parts of ourselves often lost in the pace of everyday life.

Noah Waisberg left Weil Gotshal without a company, without a plan, and without knowing if the technology would work. For two and a half years, the AI kept failing. There was zero revenue, a newborn at home, and mounting financial stress. Then his co-founder finally cracked it. They bootstrapped to 100 employees before raising $50 million, then pulled off one of the most creative exits in legal tech by selling while keeping 30 people and launching a new company as a spin-out.

In this episode of Lawyers Who Learn, host David Schnurman explores Noah's philosophy that you become your best self through challenge, not comfort. As a junior associate at Weil, Noah watched lawyers bill hundreds of dollars an hour for repetitive contract review work they hated and weren't particularly good at. He saw an opportunity for disruption even before legal tech was a defined category.

Noah shares the brutal reality of those early years: meeting four computer science PhDs at a Starbucks, choosing his co-founder, then watching month after month as their AI simply didn't work. His candor about going from a well-paying BigLaw job to financial stress with a newborn offers a rare glimpse into what bootstrapping actually costs.

The conversation reveals how Noah became an expert at selling efficiency technology to hourly billing lawyers, navigating the paradox that making lawyers faster doesn't automatically reduce client bills. Whether discussing his children's book on AI, his Wall Street Journal bestselling book, or his creative deal structure, Noah proves that challenging yourself and being willing to face years of uncertainty can lead to outcomes you never imagined.

Miriam Benor convinced her firm to let her create a role that didn't exist: Director of Attorney Coaching at Pillsbury Winthrop Shaw Pittman LLP, where she coaches attorneys on anything they want to discuss, personal or professional. After finding her calling as a law school career counselor following seven years as a litigator, she moved over to Pillsbury to do training and development. After innovating numerous firm programs in that role, she pitched her dream job to the firm, and they said yes.

In this episode of Lawyers Who Learn, host David Schnurman explores Miriam's unique coaching philosophy that challenges conventional wisdom. When clients struggle with difficult situations, she offers a powerful reframe: instead of only exploring how to overcome obstacles, she asks whether it's worth changing yourself to fit the environment or changing the environment to fit yourself. Her approach combines active listening with direct advice, using metaphors that help people see their challenges from new perspectives and analytical skills that uncover the true root of problems.

Miriam has become her firm's canary in the coal mine, spotting trends before they become crises, from pandemic burnout to creating forums after George Floyd's murder to now addressing generational shifts with Gen Z. She presents internally on topics like resilience, feedback, and confidence, sharing how the term "imposter syndrome" has now permeated the zeitgeist - with only a small percentage of attorneys having familiarity with the concept eight years ago to nearly universal awareness today.

Beyond coaching, Miriam plays violin with the Los Angeles Lawyers Philharmonic orchestra, performing annually at Disney Hall. Her message resonates: pursuing what makes you happy and fulfilled creates more authentic success than forcing yourself into someone else's definition of achievement.

Virginia Driver spent 36 years as a patent attorney in a profession she entered through a loophole, hired only because no men had applied. Today, she's building AttainIP, an AI-powered platform that could transform how patents get filed, saving attorneys 50% of their time while making the process accessible to entrepreneurs who previously couldn't afford it.

In this episode of Lawyers Who Learn, host David Schnurman explores Virginia's journey from being one of eight girls in a 120-person engineering program to becoming the second female patent partner in London. Her path began when a headmistress insisted engineering was "a huge mistake" and urged her to study medicine instead. Her mother's response? "You do what you want to do."

Virginia's career took an unexpected turn last December when a former colleague showed her what new reasoning models could accomplish. Within months, she went from part-time consultancy to startup founder, building software that reveals AI's reasoning process—the missing piece that makes other patent tools hard to verify. Her platform uses OpenAI's O3 model to guide users through patent applications while showing exactly how the AI thinks through each task.

The conversation reveals how Virginia navigated a male-dominated profession without formal law school, studying at night while raising three children, including a baby during her qualifying exams. Her philosophy, borrowed from Lizzo, captures her approach perfectly: "Get out of your own way." She's learned that lawyers excel at imagining barriers to their own ideas—and that people often don't block you if you just keep moving forward. Now she's applying that same mindset to an industry facing its biggest technological shift, proving that career reinvention doesn't have an age limit.

Nichole Velasquez has never tasted coffee, not since that childhood moment when her sister convinced her to try it and she spit it out all over the kitchen floor. Yet as Fellows Program Director at LCLD, she energizes hundreds of mid-career and senior attorneys through intensive professional development that focuses on something law schools never taught: emotional intelligence.

In this episode of Lawyers Who Learn, host David Schnurman explores how Nichole recently stepped into running a program that brings 400 high-performing attorneys together for three-day sessions across the country. What she's learned surprises most people: firms don't send their top talent primarily for substantive legal training. They send them for the relationships that form through interactive, table-based learning experiences.

Nichole's newest skill is a two-day certification in the EQ-i 2.0 assessment, allowing her to administer emotional intelligence evaluations and coach attorneys on their results. She connects every leadership topic—active listening, difficult conversations, managing up—back to emotional intelligence, showing how this trainable skill underpins everything else. Her managing partner mentor exemplifies this perfectly: despite running an entire firm, he makes every conversation feel like you're the only person who matters in that moment.

The conversation turns personal when Nichole shares her experience as a Mexican American growing up in Maryland, where teachers consistently mispronounced her phonetic last name. When she shares this story with audiences, hands go up across the room—that first-day-of-school identity moment resonates deeply. Drawing on Mel Robbins' "Let Them Theory," Nichole teaches a framework for letting others' actions be theirs while controlling your own response. It's about connection over control, presence over perfection.