Extraordinary Ability, Extraordinary Empathy: A Solo Immigration Attorney on the Front Lines

When Emily Singer Hurvitz picks up the phone to speak with a client, it isn't always about a visa application. Sometimes, it's about a divorce. Or a job loss. Or just the stress of navigating life in a new country. "Being an immigration attorney is part legal work, part social work," she says. "People trust you with everything."

It's a role she never set out to play so precisely—but one she has embraced fully. Now, as a solo practitioner based in Orange County, California, Emily manages a boutique immigration practice focused on business visas and extraordinary ability cases. Her clients are engineers, entrepreneurs, musicians, and researchers—individuals aiming to live their version of the American dream.

What sets Emily apart isn’t just her legal acumen or ability to craft compelling petitions. It’s the way she holds space for her clients' anxieties and ambitions. “I knew I wanted to help people,” she says. "But I also discovered I didn’t like litigation—being in court, arguing in person. I wanted to work behind the scenes."

Her first exposure to immigration law was deeply personal: she navigated her husband’s U.S. immigration process herself. But what began as necessity soon became vocation. While in law school, she interned at Fragomen, one of the world’s largest immigration law firms, and stayed on through graduation, ultimately starting her legal career there.

"It was serendipitous," she recalls. "I just really liked it."

Emily’s niche, built quietly and intentionally, is extraordinary ability cases—O-1 and EB-1 visas that require evidence of a candidate being at the top of their field. While many attorneys avoid these cases due to their complexity and time intensity, Emily is drawn to them.

"They're like puzzles," she says. "You have to understand your client’s industry in depth, tell a compelling story, and meet a high bar. A lot of attorneys don't like that level of work, but I do."

Over the years, her experience has become her marketing. Clients refer others, especially those in niche industries or coming from countries like Israel, where Emily’s Hebrew fluency and cultural familiarity create an added layer of trust.

"They don't have to explain things like mandatory military service or cultural context," she explains. "They know I already get it."

Her practice has grown largely through word of mouth. "Once you win a couple of O-1 or EB-1 cases, especially in a particular field, people talk. Musicians refer other musicians. Researchers refer their colleagues. It's incredibly rewarding."

For Emily, practicing immigration law is as much about emotional intelligence as it is about regulation and precedent. Her work is largely in business immigration, which tends to have high approval rates—but that doesn’t mean it’s stress-free.

"Clients come in nervous, confused, sometimes discouraged," she says. "I spend a lot of time just listening. Reassuring. Reframing expectations."

She often inherits clients who've had difficult experiences elsewhere—with attorneys who were unresponsive, impersonal, or simply unkind. "Sometimes the case got approved, but the client was left feeling unsupported. I try to change that. Even in a consultation, I want people to feel heard."

She sees trust as a pillar of her client relationships. "I've had clients open up to me about everything—their marriages, careers, families, fears. Sometimes, immigration is just the backdrop. What they're really looking for is someone who can help them feel grounded."

For clients navigating the U.S. immigration system, Emily offers both realism and reassurance. “We can’t control everything,” she says. “Sometimes a case is returned because USCIS loses the fee check. Sometimes policies change overnight. But that doesn’t mean the system is broken beyond repair."

She urges immigrants not to lose heart.

"This country still needs you," she says. "Even if the messaging right now makes it feel otherwise. This isn’t forever. There’s still opportunity here."