One day, as a relatively new teacher, I finally figured everything out.

Cue clouds parting. Cue beam of light shining down upon me. Etc.

What did I figure out? It doesn’t matter. It was mostly wrong anyway.

It also wasn’t the last time I thought I’d finally figured everything out. 

A few years into my teaching career, a friend who managed a grocery store recommended a book called Why We Buy: The Science of Shopping. The premise of the book caught my attention; it hadn’t occurred to me that the layout of stores might be purposely set up—often with the help of high-priced consulting companies—to pull me in farther, keep me there longer, and make me more likely to walk out with items that I hadn’t thought I needed.

But there was an unexpected side benefit to reading the book. I kept having aha moments about how my classroom was set up. The book also contained so many cool insights that seemed worth sharing with my students, who I hoped to shape into critical thinkers and wise consumers.

This week, after months of procrastination, I finally sat down to do The Thing.

Why did it take me so long?

The same reason it’s taking you so long to do your version of The Thing:

You’ve likely heard someone say that teachers should “beg, borrow, and steal.” Another variation is that “teachers are the worst thieves.” (These suggestions are sometimes accompanied by a little laugh—maybe because teachers are presumed to be natural rule followers? Lots to unpack there, but that’s for another day.)

As with a lot of teaching advice, the basic premise of the suggestion is useful: The teachers around you have developed procedures and tricks through years of experience. There’s a good chance that one of them has found a solution to whatever problem you’re dealing with. There is no honor in reinventing the wheel.

But—also as with a lot of teaching advice—the “beg, borrow, steal” nugget only takes you so far.