The Pivot Paradox: How Stepping Sideways Became My Biggest Step Forward

Until recently, I thought I had found my rhythm as an educator and supervisor. I was the person who floated between roles, supporting teachers, troubleshooting operational challenges, mentoring new staff, and making sure the day-to-day engine of our school ran smoothly. Then, midway through the school year, everything shifted. I was asked to take on a new and very specific role as an MTSS Tier 3 interventionist, working with small groups of early readers who needed the most intensive and individualized support in foundational literacy skills (in short, helping kids learn to read).

At first, the pivot felt abrupt. The routines I knew so well were exchanged for a different kind of responsibility: sitting at kidney-shaped tables with five-year-olds, decoding words, tracking phonemes, and celebrating the sound of progress one syllable at a time. Moving from managing systems to managing moments was disorienting. Still, within that discomfort, I found purpose, renewal, and a deeper connection to why most of us entered education in the first place.

Adopting a New Role

For those less familiar, MTSS stands for Multi-Tiered System of Supports. It is a schoolwide framework designed to ensure that every student receives the academic and behavioral help they need to succeed. Tier Three focuses on the most intensive level of support, involving individualized interventions that are tailored to meet the unique needs of students who have not responded adequately to Tier One and Tier Two strategies.

As an MTSS Tier Three interventionist, my work revolves around using diagnostic data to create highly personalized instructional plans. I collaborate closely with classroom teachers, special educators, and families to ensure that each student receives consistent, targeted support. The work involves conducting detailed progress monitoring, designing one-on-one or very small group lessons, integrating evidence-based literacy interventions, and addressing both academic and emotional barriers to learning.

The role demands precision, but also empathy. It requires interpreting both test results and nonverbal cues, listening closely when a child hesitates over a word, and recognizing when what they need most is patience rather than correction. It’s work that blends intellect and intuition, combining head and heart in equal measure.

The Challenge of a Hard Pivot

Transitioning midyear into any new role can test even the most seasoned professional. We often envision our responsibilities, set goals, and manage expectations based on a stable sense of what our jobs will look like. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, comes a disruption. It might arrive as a staffing realignment, a new policy, or a sudden leadership ask. BOOM - the pivot finds us.

When it happens, every instinct urges us to cling to the familiar. We may rationalize that our existing strengths are best leveraged elsewhere or that the timing isn’t ideal. And yet, these moments of professional discomfort are often the very catalysts for personal growth. The truth is that most people underestimate their capacity to learn something new when necessity calls for it. Fear disguises itself as practicality, convincing us to stay in our lanes.

But growth rarely occurs in our lanes. It occurs when we step into roles that stretch our skill sets, test our patience, and invite humility. It occurs when we realize that our leadership is not confined to our title, but reflected in our ability to adapt and serve where we are needed most.

Turning Challenge into Opportunity

Through the process of rediscovering myself as a reading interventionist, I have learned to view a hard pivot not as a detour, but as a redirection. Each challenge introduces a new dimension of leadership and a deeper awareness of what it means to contribute meaningfully to a shared mission.

For anyone navigating a hard pivot - whether in education, business, or public service - several strategies can make the transition more manageable:

• Acknowledge the discomfort. Suppressing frustration or fear only extends their influence. Admitting that a pivot feels hard is the first act of courage.

• Seek quick wins. Identify small, achievable goals that restore confidence. Momentum builds from daily success.

• Ask for help. Collaboration is not a sign of weakness; it’s a mark of professionalism. Engage mentors, peers, and colleagues as thought partners.

• Stay connected to your “why.” Revisit the larger purpose that brought you to your field. Purpose steadies us when roles shift.

• Treat learning as leadership. Every new skill acquired becomes part of a broader professional toolkit. Growth, like reading, is cumulative.

A Lesson in Perspective

Just as in life beyond work, how we handle a pivot reveals our character. It is easier and safer to rely on what we already know, but safety rarely leads to transformation. Stepping into the unknown requires faith - faith in our resilience, our capacity for adaptation, and our commitment to those who depend on us.

I was reminded of this the other day as I sat with a student who had struggled for months to recognize letter sounds. Slowly, almost whispering, he read his first full sentence aloud. His eyes widened as if a new world had revealed itself. It was a quiet moment, but it carried the weight of profound significance. In that child’s voice was the sound of possibility - a possibility that will outlive both of us.

At that moment, every hesitation, every awkward transition, every self-doubt about my new role dissolved. Because what once felt like an unexpected detour had become a defining chapter in my leadership journey. That child’s sentence - hesitant, soft, but full of triumph - became a powerful punctuation mark in my professional narrative.

And that, I realized, is the ultimate reward of a hard pivot: discovering that what feels like a disruption can, in time, become the most meaningful part of the journey.