There is a moment in leadership that I have come to recognize more clearly over time, though I did not always have language for it. It does not come with a decision. In fact, it comes well before any decision feels possible, showing up more quietly, often in the middle of ordinary work, when something begins to feel different.

You start to notice patterns that do not quite align. A tension that keeps resurfacing in different places. A set of decisions that once made sense but no longer seem to fit the moment the institution is in. At first, it is difficult to explain. You may not have the data, and you may not yet have the words. But there is a point at which you realize that something has shifted, and that continuing as you are is no longer a neutral choice.

If you have spent time in leadership, you know that feeling.

What I have come to understand is that this moment, as subtle as it is, carries more weight than we often acknowledge, not because of what happens immediately, but because of what it asks of you before anything visible begins.

In one of my recent conversations, recently retired president Dr. Annette Parker, spoke about her ability to see patterns and possibilities quickly, often connecting things that are not yet obvious to others. What stayed with me was not simply that strength, but what she said about it. She talked about the need to help her team see what she sees.

That is not a simple process, particularly when what you are seeing is still taking shape.

When you see something early, you are working with an understanding that is still forming, even for you. Others are still grounded in the way things have been. There is not yet a shared language for what is changing, and without that, it becomes difficult to move forward in any collective way. So, you find yourself in a space that is not often named. You are no longer uncertain in the same way you once were, but you are not yet ready to act.

Instead, you stay with it. You listen more carefully. You ask questions that allow you to test what you are seeing. You pay attention to how others are interpreting the same signals, not because you are second guessing yourself, but because you are trying to understand how meaning is forming across the institution.

We do not talk much about this part of leadership, in part because it does not translate easily into action. From the outside, leadership is often defined by clarity and decisiveness. We expect leaders to know what to do and to move forward with confidence. But many of the most important leadership moments begin without that kind of certainty. They begin with an unevenness in understanding, where the leader sees something before others do, and that gap must be navigated with care.

I was reminded of this in my conversation with Dr. Cynthia Teniente-Matson as she reflected on her presidency at Texas A and M San Antonio. She stepped into a role that required building something that did not yet fully exist, an institution designed to serve a community that had long been underserved. The vision was clear to her in a deeply personal way, shaped by her own experience and connection to that place. But that clarity was not something she could simply declare and expect others to follow.

Over time, she worked to articulate that vision in a way that others could understand and carry forward. She described returning to a simple statement of purpose when decisions became difficult, grounding herself in the idea of helping people change their lives. That clarity did not arrive all at once. It was something she developed and returned to, especially when the path forward was still taking shape.

There comes a point, though, when the work shifts, and it is no longer only about making sense of what you are seeing. It becomes about what you do when others do not yet see it or are not ready to accept it. Dr. Nicholas Covino spoke very directly about this, noting that institutions tend to hold tightly to what is familiar and can be wary of what feels different. There are moments when a leader must acknowledge that instinct and still move forward, even when others are not convinced.

That is where leadership becomes more difficult, because at that point you are no longer just holding an emerging insight. You are holding the institution through the discomfort that comes with change. Covino described this as the work of holding the transformation itself, holding people in relationship, with respect, even when the conversations are difficult and, at times, unsettling. That idea has stayed with me, particularly in thinking about how leaders navigate moments of resistance.

Higher education institutions are, in many ways, designed to preserve what has worked. They develop traditions and norms that give people a sense of identity and stability. When those are challenged, even for the right reasons, the response is not always immediate understanding. It can be hesitation. It can be resistance. Sometimes it is quiet. Sometimes it is not.

The leader cannot move past that too quickly.

If anything, this is the moment that requires the most steadiness. It requires a willingness to stay present when others are working through what the change means for them, holding space for questions and, at times, for disagreement, without losing sight of where the institution needs to go. That is not passive work. It is demanding in a different way, asking the leader to tolerate a level of tension that does not resolve quickly.

There is no clear signal that tells you when you have stayed there long enough.

There is also a more personal side to this that we do not talk about very often. Seeing something early can feel isolating, not in a dramatic sense, but in a quieter and more persistent way. You find yourself in conversations where others are just beginning to explore questions you have already been considering. You hear perspectives that reflect where things have been, even as you are thinking about where they are going.

There can be a pull to move faster than the situation allows. To explain more than you can yet fully support. To try to bring others to understanding before they are ready.

What I have come to see, and heard reinforced in my conversation with University of Redlands President Krista Newkirk, is that this is not simply a matter of people being behind. It is also about how they are hearing what is being said. As she put it, people often hear what they fear, especially in moments of change. That means what feels clear and measured to the leader can land very differently for others, shaped by uncertainty about what the change might mean for them.

It also shifts how we think about communication. It is not enough to say something once and assume it has been understood. Leaders must return to the message, often multiple times, in different ways, anticipating where fear or misunderstanding might take hold. What begins to feel repetitive to the leader is often just starting to register for others.

And perhaps most importantly, it is a reminder that people need time to process. Leaders often arrive at clarity after weeks or months of thinking, but for others, that same idea is new. They are just beginning to work through its implications. Allowing that time, even when it slows momentum, is part of the work.

But leadership, in these moments, is not simply about being right. It is about bringing others along, and that requires patience as much as insight.

I have heard this reflected in different ways across many of my conversations. Dr. Beth Paul spoke about the importance of empathy, particularly in times of disruption, and the need to understand how people are experiencing change before trying to move them forward. That perspective feels especially important here. If you are ahead of others in seeing what is emerging, you also carry a responsibility to understand where they are.

What I have seen over time is that the most effective leaders do not rush through this stage. They stay with it long enough to understand what they are seeing, and then they begin to translate that understanding in ways others can engage with. They create the conditions for shared understanding, even when it takes time. And when the moment comes to move, they do so with a clarity that has been built, not imposed.

We tend to think of leadership as a series of visible actions. Decisions, announcements, outcomes.

But often, it begins in a much quieter place.

It begins in that moment when something shifts from a vague concern to a clearer awareness, and the leader decides, sometimes without fully naming it, that this matters enough to stay with.

By the time others see what you see, the visible work of leadership is already underway.

But the real work began earlier, in that quieter space where insight takes shape and where the leader chooses not to look away.

Dr. Melissa Morriss-Olson is a distinguished leader in higher education with over 35 years of experience shaping innovation and fostering institutional excellence. Currently leading the launch of The American University of Greece Global Campus, she is also Distinguished Professor of Higher Education Leadership at Bay Path University. During her tenure as Provost, she launched over 40 academic programs and secured over $6 million in grant funding. She is the author of several influential works, including IngenioUs Leadership: Creating Solutions to Wicked Problems in Higher Education.