The Road to Abbott Elementary

A well-known African proverb elucidates, “A child doesn’t belong to the father or mother; a child belongs to the ancestors.” Upstart sitcom Abbott Elementary is a “child” with a strong yet complicated bond with its ancestral spirits, previous urban education shows, and films.
In many ways, Abbott Elementary takes a modernistic — almost antagonistic — approach to the urban ed genre. Unlike Dangerous Minds and its cinematic compatriots, Abbott puts the teachers’ stories front and center and relegates the students to the supporting cast. The students aren’t problematic, unruly, or threatening. They’re just kids.
Also, in contrast to films like Lean on Me, Abbott refuses to portray the school as a violence-ridden, chaotic, hopeless heap of detritus. Instead, the school is filled with optimistic, talented, determined teachers who do their best with admittedly limited resources.
But even though Abbott Elementary smashes so many molds, people absolutely, unequivocally love it. As of this writing, it has a 99% Rotten Tomatoes rating — a score so high for a school show that it looks like a typo. The reason why appears clear: It rebels against its ancestors like the petulant punk we all have deep inside while, somehow, not offending the genre.
A Nuanced Show for a Nuanced National Debate
In a famous scene from Lean on Me, a teacher incompetently bumbles his way through welcoming Morgan Freeman’s character, Principal Joe Clark, only to be interrupted by, “Think you can run this school? If you could, I wouldn’t be here, would I?” The teacher shuts up, sits down, and class is in session for the staff.
While this may have been a realistic rendition of the Joe Clark effect, Abbott Elementary refuses to borrow from the tradition. Its teachers are skilled, smart, and, of course, funny.
In effect, Abbott says, the solution to success isn’t to bring in Principal Penicillin to cure the school of its bacterial teachers. Rather, it’s about empowering a talented staff with opportunity and adequate resources.
This nuanced message draws from the similarly delicate dynamic of the how-to-fix-failing-schools debate raging across the country. Abbott refuses to be sucked into a dichotomous good vs. evil, heroes vs. villains story. It’s about good people doing their best in a less-than-ideal situation. For the millions who’ve walked the tiles of urban schools over the past decade, that message resonates.
Grounded in Reality, not Sensational Debate
Like an energetic youngster, Abbott had many decisions regarding how to focus its energy and whether to follow in the footsteps of its cinematic ancestors. While the show certainly doesn’t “play nice,” it also chooses not to deliver a frothing debate with dozens of episodes hashing out educational issues.
For example, instead of making critical race theory the center point of one episode after the next, the show highlights a solution to the problem critical race theory illuminates: Expose young people to good teachers of color. Not that this eradicate the effects of racism, but it redesigns the students’ success narratives.
One way Abbott Elementary does this is through the character of Gregory Eddie, a Black substitute teacher. He builds strong, organic relationships with his students, empowering them with his genuine attention. Then, to shift their personal narrative, he highlights their brilliance by decorating the classroom with his students’ artwork.
Like a strong substitute teacher, Abbott Elementary leverages optimism to produce better-than-average results. It pulls the focus slightly away from political debates and hones in on the people who have more impact than a politician could ever hope for — the teachers.
In this way, Abbott tells politicians and pundits to trust the teachers. Let them decide what to teach and how — because they’re capable.
How Abbott Borrows from — then Rebels Against — Its Predecessors
While the differences are stark, there are some interesting parallels, some of which Abbott leverages to pound home its point.
For instance, Abbott refuses to have a central, dominating character like Gabe Kotter of Welcome Back Kotter. However, at the same time, Abbott borrows a little from the Kotter persona. Like Mr. Kotter, characters like Janine Teagues and Barbara Howard are unabashedly focused on their students’ success.
Very similar to Mr. Kotter, Ms. Howard prioritizes her students’ humanity. She doesn’t see them as “less than” anyone and encourages them to rewrite that narrative as well.
At the same time, however, Ms. Howard’s efforts, while built on idealism, are grounded in reality. The depictions of Mr. Kotter were sensationalized and often bordered on outright unrealistic. For instance, he would have students over to his house to create a camaraderie he could later leverage in the classroom.
Ms. Howard, by contrast, chooses to empower her children by using her classroom as an intellectual bootcamp. She conditions their minds for future life battles challenging their limitations to produce strength.
Janine Teagues, a second-year new teacher, puts a different spin on the archetype of the young, outside-the-box female teacher cemented by Michelle Pfeifer’s Louanne Johnson in Dangerous Minds. When Ms. Johnson has a chance to confront her principal regarding the students’ literary curriculum, she’s deferential. Instead of whipping open the book and outlining why her students deserve better, Ms. Johnson is silent, mousy even, in the face of authority.
Janine Teagues is anything but. She takes on the school administration, fighting for the resources her students need. Similar to Pfiefer’s character, she uses creative thinking to make a difference, but she does so outside the classroom. For example, she raises funds for the school using her social media accounts. She even reaches out to school district leaders to create change.
Janine Teagues is a dramatically different kind of “savior” teacher, dangerous in her political savvy and comedic with her idealistic naivete. But it works because it’s real. Unlike Mr. Hillary Swank’s character in Freedom Writers or Jack Black’s head-banging, boisterous buffoon in School of Rock, Janine Teagues understands how to play the political chess game. By forcing the queen and rooks of the administration into powerless positions, she empowers the pawns — herself included — to win the game.
This departure from using a unilateral approach — confining the fight to the classroom — is unique in the edutainment space. And, according to IMDb, viewers love it.
Abbott Elementary — Standing on Shoulders and Kicking Shins
A youngster can rebel against their ancestors without showing disrespect. There’s a difference between disregard and difference, and Abbott Elementary uses the latter to enlighten viewers. Fans laugh at the teachers, students, themselves, and the school system while crying over the same — because that needs to happen, too. Abbott staunchly advocates for nuance over vitriolic debate. Teachers who succeed use bravery and love to succeed, partnering with their challenges instead of demonizing them.
And that’s how Abbott throws the talk-to-the-hand to the edutainment genre, which couldn’t be more proud.
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