The AAfPE Chronicle

The thrust of Lusk's message centered on forward-looking curriculum development—not merely adapting to present demands but anticipating those two years hence, when today's students will enter the workforce. "We don't need to make them ready for work today," he emphasized, "We have to make them ready to work in 2 years where the industry is going to be in 2 years."

Earlier in the day, Lusk had conducted a vendor demonstration showcasing the NSLT's latest offerings, including an AI for Legal Professionals certificate. "Don't let our cheap price fool you," he quipped regarding the $38.50 price point. "It is some awesome training." This affordability represents a deliberate choice—a commitment to democratizing access to crucial technological education.

Lusk's projections for the profession's future suggest a domino effect of upward mobility: "We're going to see attorneys do more senior partner work... We're going to see our paralegals do more junior associate quality work." This vision—paralegal responsibilities expanding into previously attorney-exclusive domains—represents not merely changing job descriptions but a fundamental reconceptualization of the legal services hierarchy.

The centerpiece of their methodology, an exercise called "The Expert," places students in the position of instant authorities on arbitrary topics—from Jello to quantum physics—requiring them to field questions with confident improvisation. When a brave volunteer demonstrated expertise on the properties of Jello, confidently explaining that "Jello is made from a process in which they take goo, that slime goo that kids make," the pedagogical purpose became clear: developing the capacity for authoritative presentation regardless of content mastery.

The "Yes, And" exercise—derived from improvisational comedy—teaches students to build upon rather than negate others' contributions, a skill particularly valuable in brainstorming sessions and collaborative legal work. "If you create a space where you're not allowed to say no," Yamen explained, "and ideas are allowed to freely roam, then good, amazing things can happen because people aren't afraid to be shut down."

These techniques address a fundamental challenge in legal education: developing the confidence necessary for effective legal advocacy independent of substantive knowledge. As AI increasingly handles research and document preparation, these uniquely human capacities for improvisation, presence, and persuasion become increasingly central to paralegal professional identity.

Mooney's approach begins with structured topic selection through a discussion forum reservation system, proceeds through recorded 5-8 minute presentations, and culminates in mandatory peer questioning and presenter responses. The system includes deliberate constraints to ensure broad engagement—students cannot direct all questions to a single presenter, nor can they question presenters addressing the same topic as their own presentation.

Perhaps most significant is the student testimony offered by Holmes, who confirmed that the asynchronous format imposes no additional burden compared to traditional assignments: "It didn't take any more time than it would have taken if I was doing like a written paper," she noted, while emphasizing the professional development benefits.

In an era of increasing remote work within the legal profession, Mooney's methodology serves a dual purpose—both educating students on course content and simultaneously preparing them for distributed communication environments they will encounter in practice. Her emphasis on camera visibility and professional presentation anticipates the emerging expectations of law firms operating in hybrid arrangements.

McLaughlin's approach uses cannabis law to illuminate fundamental legal concepts while simultaneously developing practical skills. An exercise on professional ethics, for instance, requires students to analyze state bar opinions on representing cannabis clients—navigating the tension between state legalization and federal prohibition while learning to parse regulatory guidance.

Among the most compelling assignments is McLaughlin's analysis of "presidential lawmaking"—Department of Justice enforcement memos that effectively create a parallel regulatory system through prosecutorial discretion. This exercise illuminates separation of powers principles while developing critical analysis skills. Similarly, her contract enforceability assignment—examining a federal case where one cannabis entrepreneur attempted to void a partnership agreement by claiming federal illegality—offers a masterclass in applying conflict of laws principles.

In McLaughlin's framework, cannabis law's very complexity becomes its pedagogical strength—offering a microcosm of legal education that encompasses constitutional questions, regulatory compliance, ethics considerations, and business formation issues. The approach exemplifies a broader trend evident throughout the conference: innovative educators finding opportunities for comprehensive skills development within emerging specializations.

The concern extended beyond employer-employee relationships to client interactions. Across presentations, speakers acknowledged AI's capability to handle informational tasks while emphasizing that client counseling—with its requirements for empathy, cultural sensitivity, and emotional intelligence—remains distinctly human territory. "AI software sucks at showing empathy, showing emotion," Lusk noted, underscoring technology's persistent limitations.

Mara Mooney's presentation similarly acknowledged this tension, with her requirement that students activate cameras during asynchronous presentations—a policy recommendation from her student collaborator. "She feels the camera really makes it more personal," Mooney explained, "and does also, you know, require that element that they've really contributed to it."

Throughout the conference, this dialectic between technological advancement and human connection resolved not into contradiction but complementarity. The educators envisioned a future where AI's handling of routine tasks creates space for more meaningful human engagement—both with clients and within legal teams. The paralegal of tomorrow emerges not as technology's casualty but as its beneficiary, freed from drudgery to focus on uniquely human capacities for empathy, judgment, and creative problem-solving.

As the conference drew to a close with an invitation to October's in-person gathering in Grand Rapids, Michigan, participants departed with a vision of paralegal education not merely responding to change but actively shaping it. In a profession often caricatured as resistant to innovation, these educators had demonstrated precisely the opposite—an enthusiasm for embracing disruption as opportunity.