Abbott Elementary (ABC)
If you know me, you know Abbott Elementary has my heart. Full stop. The show has swept at the Emmys, the Golden Globes, and the Critics’ Choice Awards, and received a full order of 22 episodes, which is virtually unheard of in the current TV viewing landscape that’s dominated by streaming platforms and limited series.
This season, the school-based, workplace comedy picked back up with our favorite teachers (and principal!) returning from summer break and beginning to prepare for the new school year.
Where it shines:
In true Abbott fashion, the school’s staff continue to utilize little resources and big wisdom to maintain an environment where Black children are seen, heard, and affirmed. From a Shark Tank-style pitch process to determine the best way to utilize new grant funding to a water-ice truck to cool the students down on a hot day to a corny storytelling improv group that offers both laughs and relief, there’s been no shortage of antics in the spirit of showing up for their students and meeting them where they are.
In Episode 4 (The Principal’s Office), there’s extensive commentary that acknowledges why punitive measures for children don’t support their development. After Gregory (Tyler James Williams) sends his first-grade student, Micah, to Principal Ava (Janelle James)‘s office after one too many Bluey-related outbursts, Gregory soon realizes that Ava doesn’t actually discipline the children. She believes walking to her office is punishment—and humiliating—enough, so she transforms her space into a place where students can unwind and recenter before returning to their classrooms. Upon deeper reflection about the impacts of his own strict upbringing and a critical conversation with senior teacher Barbara (Sheryl Lee Ralph), Gregory steps into accountability by confirming for himself that he doesn’t want his students to fear him and instead incorporates Bluey into his lesson plan to better tailor his teaching to their interests.
It’s rare for adults to acknowledge their missteps and course correct according to the needs, interests, and desires of children. This moment demonstrates the true, multifaceted community that Abbott Elementary continues to foster.
How the carceral system shows up:
Although we’re only halfway through season 2, there’s been an uptick in brief mentions of policing. (My review from earlier this year argued that Abbott was one of the rare abolitionist shows on TV because it abolished police from its storyline.)
In Episode 2 (Wrong Delivery), Melissa (Lisa Ann Walters) tells Janine, “You don’t have to lie about it. The cops ain’t askin,” when the teachers return improperly delivered books to Addington Elementary, a charter school that has better facilities and more resources compared to Abbott.
In Episode 3 (Story Samurai), Mr. Johnson (William Stanford Davis) says he’s going to call the cops on the Story Samurai, a majority white, corny improv group, for lingering in the hallways long after their performances for the students. Though these specific instances are often brief, fast-passing throwaway lines, copaganda is a slippery slope, especially when quite a few of these interactions involve the white teachers.
In Episode 6 (Candy Zombies), kids take the candy being stored in the library until the end of the day. Worried about how the sugar will fuel distractions, the teachers team up to look for the culprit, who’s been passing out candy under their noses. A shot cuts to Jacob (Chris Perfetti) and Melissa patting down students in the hallway. Melissa shoves Jacob out of the way, frustrated with his lazy search attempt, to show him how it’s done.
“I feel a little conflicted about the constitutionality of stop-and-frisk,” Jacob says, as Melissa continues to search kids for candy. “I feel like Eric Adams,” Jacob continued.
Mentioning policing, even in jest, normalizes the institution in this show’s otherwise cop-free universe. It signals to us that police serve a critical function even in fictional settings where they aren’t physically present, making it that much more difficult to imagine and subsequently build a world without them in real life.
Episode 7 (Attack Ad) introduces us to Draemond Winding (Leslie Odom Jr.), a former Abbott student, who runs Legendary Schools, a charter organization that plans to absorb Abbott. While commonly heralded as the premier alternative to public schools, charter schools have a track record of decreasing funding and resources from local public schools and enforcing strict behavioral guidelines for students. The show begins to spotlight these impacts when Barbara lets her former student know that what he’s attempting to do hurts public school teachers like her.
Though we’ve only gotten a taste of this storyline, my hunch is it will likely illuminate the ways Black children in schools are policed beyond uniformed school resource officers. I’m also bracing for the increased anti-Blackness Abbott students may experience ahead, given how Winding’s mission to transform Abbott is rooted in shame and anti-Blackness instead of meaningfully considering the many structural reasons for why Abbott is so resource-poor.
