After a well-deserved sweep at this year’s Golden Globe Awards, Abbott Elementary delivers another stellar episode showing the magic that happens when studios allow Black creatives to produce authentic work. Hint to all the TV and film executives out there: Audiences can tell when Black characters and story lines are forced in as a form of shallow virtue signaling, and we can definitely tell when non-Black voices have control over our stories. I say this because an episode like “Fight†could only have been written and performed by Black people who felt confident and safe enough to let their Blackness shine outside of being a diversity checkpoint.
Though I wouldn’t classify Abbott Elementary as a “Black show†(terminology like that is becoming so archaic), Blackness is ever present in a natural and organic way that doesn’t politicize or overexplain our every move. As Quinta Brunson told the New York Times, “There have been recent sitcoms — Black-ish, Fresh Off the Boat — really good sitcoms, but my generation was starting to get tired of race as the only focal point. The white shows got to just be white, but a lot of the shows with people of color were about the color of the people and not about the stories of the people. So Abbott also feels like a shift in that way.†Of course, this reflects the diverse writers’ room and stellar core cast, but the students of Abbott Elementary are, for lack of a less cliché metaphor, the glue that holds the show together.
There aren’t many examples of television shows I can think of that allow Black children to have their stories told without their race being the most defining part of their existence. In Abbott, the Black kids don’t only appear as a sidekick or to teach a lesson in acceptance or to represent low-income “inner city†violence; instead, they get to be kids who deal with everyday, school-age problems. The episode’s funniest scene is an example of how Blackness isn’t used as a profound theme or moral obligation but instead as a backdrop for some hilarious story lines. The scene is a culmination of Janine’s misguided attempt to force two of her students, Zara and Joya, to look past their disdain for each other to cultivate a friendship. The two girls used to sit next to each other in class, but after butting heads, they take it upon themselves to change seats. When Janine asks why they’re not in their assigned seating, they officially declare their beef, and Janine does everything in her power to create harmony.
First, Janine makes the pair buddies for the week, believing quality time will “nurture understanding,†but it only leads to more fighting and milk cartons being smashed. Then she has them complete an art project that has them trace each other and then fill in the silhouettes with all the things that make their partner special. Zara and Joya each present a portrait that illustrates exactly how full of shit, literally and figuratively, they think their partner is. Fed up, Janine tells them to find a solution, or they’ll be excluded from watching Toy Story with the rest of the class. They take matters into their own hands, leading to one of the funniest scenes of the season thus far.
During lunch, Zara and Joya enlist their older sisters to battle it out on their behalf. Janine tries to break the fight up, but her height leaves her barely able to keep the two apart (they keep referring to her as an eighth-grader) as Zara and Joya cheer them on. Ava breaks up the fight, proclaiming, “Only in America!†Barbara storms in, yelling, “What in the Earth, Wind, and Fire is going on here?†Then a little boy in a kufi hat tells the cameras, “It’s a shame to see my queens fight … but I thought Ms. Teagues was gonna get molly-whooped!†In less than a minute, Abbott delightfully encapsulates universal schoolyard drama with undeniably Black humor that pokes fun at the hotep stereotype.
Frustrated with her inability to create a friendship between Zara and Joya, Janine turns to her reluctant mentor, Barbara. She admits that conflict makes her uncomfortable after being stuck in the middle of her mother and sister’s fights as a child. Barbara pushes her to get used to the discomfort of unresolved conflict because sometimes people don’t get along, no matter their age. Zara and Joya never become buddies the way she wants them to, but an unexpected friendship does form from the experience. Their older sisters bond after the fight and find out they have common interests: butterflies … and beating people up.
Gregory also experiences growing pains when his father, Martin, visits him at Abbott. Played by Orlando Jones, Gregory’s dad is one of the best casting choices I’ve seen in a while, as the two have an uncanny resemblance. The two still have an estranged relationship, with Martin hiring a model to pose as his son in the brochure for his landscaping company. Gregory reverts to his childhood dynamics in the presence of his father, becoming desperately eager for affirmation. Martin can’t help but notice Barbara and Jacob’s garden at the school and compliments them on their techniques. They soak up the admiration before realizing the things he’s praising weren’t implemented by either of them, forcing Gregory to reveal his interference.
Martin is impressed by Gregory’s improved gardening skills. He invites his son to help out on the project he’s in town for, a gesture that brings Gregory immense pride, or as Barbara would say, makes him look like he’s “trying to mute a smile.†Martin is so amazed by his son he proposes that he and Gregory join forces, officially making the company “Eddie and Son Lawn Care.†You would think this would be the utmost honor for Gregory, but he reminds his father that the last time he worked under him was contentious. Martin says this time will be different; Gregory won’t be working for him, he’ll be working with him.
This still isn’t enough for Gregory, who chooses to stick to his job at Abbott. He knows that it’s the school that gave him the confidence his father now sees. Bringing his love for gardening back to the classroom, Gregory teaches his kids how to germinate a seed using a wet paper towel and a jar. He tells Jacob that working at Abbott is the first time he’s been at a place he loves, doing something he loves. His interaction with his dad reminds me of how part of growing up is learning to see our parents as people, but what’s talked about less often is how our parents have to learn to see us as adults with lives and desires separate from them, and how more often than not we flourish the most without being confined to our parents’ ideas of who we should be.
Meanwhile, Ava and Melissa team up to beat Mr. Johnson’s fantasy-football lineup. I know very little about real football, let alone fantasy football (my dad used to laugh at me as a kid when I called their uniforms “costumesâ€), but Melissa and Ava’s determination to win made them an incredibly entertaining duo. They concoct a plan to defeat Mr. Johnson based on a tip Ava heard from her pastor that one of Mr. Johnson’s best players wouldn’t be able to play over the weekend. Ava wants to pick up the backup player before Mr. Johnson can so she and Melissa can walk away with the earnings. There are some details about “wires†and other terminology that made my mind drift, but long story short, they try and distract Mr. Johnson so they can win. They create a diversion, called Operation Splash Interference, by making an unseemly mess with dirty paint water in the bathroom, which will leave Mr. Johnson without cell service as he cleans it up.
Despite their scheming, the plan doesn’t work, and somehow the backup player was still picked up before Ava could swoop in, almost bringing Melissa to tears until she reminds herself that there’s no crying in fantasy football. Mr. Johnson boasts his win in the break room, telling the ladies to call him Sir Johnson because he’s been knighted by “the queen of trash herself: Ava’s fantasy-football roster.†He gives Jacob a cut of the money he won, revealing that Jacob, the person with a self-proclaimed moral objection to the NFL (lol), was the one helping Mr. Johnson get his backup, ultimately making them the truly most unexpected pairing of the episode.
Teacher’s Notes
• I swear every character on this show is worthy of a spinoff series. Jacob’s story about giving himself the Heimlich in school after his bully threw grapes in his mouth as he performed a solo in Moulin Rogue Jr., and Barbara talking about her beef with the usher at church, both make me want new Abbott episodes multiple times a week.
• Aside from being excited to simply see Black child actors with all different skin colors and hair textures, I find it amazing that so many of these little superstars can add speaking roles to their IMDb and will have clips of them delivering expertly written one-liners with immense comedic timing to their reels.
• I hope we see Janine’s sister soon! They keep bringing her up, and Janine encourages her to come and visit from Colorado, so it may be inevitable. I would love to see Keke Palmer or Dominique Fishback make an appearance.
Finally, as always, here are some of my favorite lines from the episode:
• Ava, after seeing Gregory standing perfectly still awaiting his father’s arrival: “What is this? Stranger Things? What’s your favorite song, Gregory???â€
• Barbara: “Gregory, why would sow secretly? Why would you prune privately? Why would you cull clandestinely? Hidden hoe-ing and whatnot … Why would you be tight-lipped about tilling?â€
• Ava: “You doing your taxes? You know you can claim stray cats as dependents.â€
• Gregory: “I don’t think my dad has ever asked for my input on anything before except for that time when he asked if I thought I was being funny. I think I’m experiencing what they refer to as ‘Black boy joy’ — even though I am a man.â€