Adam runs a room slowly. If you have a hard conversation that has gone in circles for years, he is the one to put it in front of. He never raises his voice; he hardly ever needs to. He came to mediation after twelve years in family law and one in clinical chaplaincy. He listens, then asks one question at a time.
Across the table, not against.
What you need to be heard.
Your version of the story. The facts in the order they happened. The outcome that would make this end.
What they need to be heard.
Their version of the story. The facts in the order they happened. The outcome that would make this end.
The short answer.
A conversation, run by a third person.
Mediation is what happens when two parties who disagree agree to sit in a room with a person who will not take a side. That person is the mediator. Their job is not to decide who is right. Their job is to help both sides reach a decision they can both live with.
It is not a trial. There is no verdict. There is no judge. There is a room, two parties, sometimes their attorneys, and a mediator who runs the conversation. What you leave with, you both agreed to.
Not therapy. Not court.
We will not analyze your relationship. We will not assign blame. We will not push you to settle if you cannot. We will tell you, honestly, when the conversation is not moving — and we will help you decide whether to keep going, take a break, or end the room.
If we cannot help you reach a resolution, we will say so. That itself is a result — one that often clarifies what the next step needs to be.
A real place, with two chairs.
The room matters. We’ve been in this one since 2017 — a third-floor office on East 12th with one window, two armchairs, and a table set with water and good coffee.
Both sides, both heard.
The work of a mediation is to bring two views into the same room and let both finish their sentences. Here is how the day usually goes.
Pre-mediation brief.
You write a one-page private brief for the mediator. Not for the other side. What happened, what you want, what would feel like enough.
Opening statement.
You go first, fifteen minutes, uninterrupted. Then we ask three questions to make sure we’ve heard.
Caucus, privately.
We meet with you alone, in a separate room. What you say there does not leave with us unless you ask it to.
Pre-mediation brief.
They write a one-page private brief for the mediator. Not for your side. What happened, what they want, what would feel like enough.
Opening statement.
They go second, fifteen minutes, uninterrupted. Then we ask three questions to make sure we’ve heard.
Caucus, privately.
We meet with them alone, in a separate room. What they say there does not leave with us unless they ask it to.
Where the conversation actually changes.
We bring both sides back to the room. We frame what we’ve heard. The conversation that follows is usually shorter, and usually more honest, than either side expected.
Two practitioners, two rooms.
We don’t lead with credentials. We lead with how the room feels when we’re in it. Bios below are written by us — about each other.
Iris runs a room directly. If you have a commercial dispute that’s costing both sides time, she is the one to put it in front of. She sets a clock for every stage, she names the disagreement out loud, and she helps both sides see what the next ninety days look like in writing. She came to mediation after seven years in litigation.
A first call.
Tell us briefly what the matter is. We’ll respond within one business day with a thirty-minute consultation window — with Adam or with Iris, depending on the room you’ll need.