Still Driving: Turnaround Work on the Freeway of Change

Some days, turnaround work feels less like leadership and more like driving a long stretch of freeway when you are already exhausted.

Not the smooth, open-road kind of drive either. The kind with traffic jams, sudden slowdowns, people merging without signals, others speeding past like the rules don’t apply to them, and cars overloaded with far more than they were designed to carry.

Sirens flash in the distance. Construction cones appear without warning. You grip the wheel tighter and remind yourself to stay alert, because one wrong move can cause a chain reaction you never intended.

That’s what it feels like to turn around a school with a team of two on site.

The mental and physical toll is real. There is no coasting. You can’t look away. You can’t afford to fall asleep at the wheel.

In a turnaround school, every decision matters. Every interaction matters. And when the team is small, the weight of the work is carried mile after mile by the same people. Some days it feels like you’re towing everything behind you: student needs, staff morale, systems that don’t yet exist, gaps that shouldn’t be yours to close but are anyway.

You keep driving.

On the freeway, speed limits exist for a reason. There’s a maximum so no one is reckless, and a minimum so no one becomes a hazard by going too slow. In schools, MTSS functions the same way. Clear systems create shared expectations. They help everyone understand how fast to go, when to slow down, and when support is needed.

Plans of improvement, curriculum maps, pacing guides, and behavior systems are not about control. They’re guardrails. They keep us from veering off the road when emotions run high or exhaustion sets in. They help teachers know what’s expected, where support exists, and how success will be monitored and celebrated.

Without systems, everyone drives at their own speed, in their own lane, reacting instead of responding. That’s when accidents happen.

Exit ramps are another lesson. On the freeway, you sometimes take an exit thinking it will get you there faster, only to realize it was the wrong one. In turnaround work, we try strategies with the same hope. Some don’t work. Some lead to dead ends. Some require a U-turn.

That doesn’t mean the team failed. It means we’re paying attention.

On-ramps matter too. They represent the new ideas, interventions, and supports we try to merge into existing practice. If they’re rushed or unsupported, they cause disruption. If they’re intentional, clearly communicated, and aligned with the flow of traffic, they help everyone move forward.

Driving defensively becomes a survival skill. You anticipate challenges. You plan for behavior struggles during testing season. You brace for staff fatigue. You celebrate small wins like a student making it through a day without escalation or a teacher trying something new even when they’re tired.

And then there are the days when the freeway feels endless.

The kind where your eyes burn, your shoulders ache, and the noise is constant. On those days, experienced drivers know the tricks. Turn up the music. Crack the window. Refocus your senses. Remind yourself why you’re still driving.

For a team of two, that’s the moment to turn up the music together.

It’s the reminder that you are not alone in the car. That trust matters. That building each other back up is not optional, it’s survival. Attitude becomes a choice, not because the work is easy, but because quitting mentally is far more dangerous than continuing carefully.

The end goal isn’t just arriving at a destination. It’s arriving without crashing the people in the car with you. It’s sustaining teachers, protecting students, and creating systems strong enough to hold long after the team grows beyond two.

And sometimes, it’s pausing long enough to recognize the drivers around you who are still showing up, still signaling, still following the rules even when no one is watching.

Those are the teachers who deserve awards.

Not just for test scores or compliance, but for endurance. For professionalism. For staying alert when the road is hard. For choosing to keep driving with care, purpose, and heart.

Turnaround work is not a sprint. It’s a long drive through unpredictable conditions.

But with trust, systems, and a partner who helps you turn up the music when you’re tired, you keep moving forward.

One mile at a time.