Abbott Elementary is a Call to Action for Educators and Policymakers Alike
Why every episode of Abbott Elementary illustrates a systemic failure with the K-12 system and what education and policy leaders need to do about it.
At the age of four, my parents enrolled me in Head Start, a government program for the children of low-income working families, and after graduation, I received an opportunity of a lifetime to attend a local private school on full scholarship. Throughout my journey, I have witnessed, firsthand, the lasting implications of economic inequality and systemic racism on K-12 education and how educators, who deeply care about their students, navigate such hurdles. Over the past few months, schools have become battlegrounds for whether the full history of America should be discussed and proxies for upholding race-neutral policies that ultimately undermine Black life.
For these reasons and more, that is why ABC’s new hit mockumentary series, Abbott Elementary, resonates. Although the characters are fictional, the lived realities of educators and students are not. Abbott Elementary perfectly illustrates how Black and Brown children are perceived in the classroom and how the barriers across education directly impact the learning environment — which is why policymakers need to pay attention.
The first issue tackled in the show is the lack of state and local funding for the building and school supplies. One study found that on average, for every $2,227 dollars in school funding received by students in predominantly white school districts, students in non-white school districts received 1 dollar in funding. The intentional under-resourcing then spills over into class quality and offerings as well as teacher salary, not to mention school closures. In her book, Ghosts of the Schoolyard, sociology professor, Eve Ewing, mentions how intentionally under-resourcing schools led to the largest mass school closing in history in 2013, where nearly 50 schools in Southside Chicago were closed — many of which were in Black and Brown neighborhoods. In a new book I edited, The Black Agenda: Bold Solutions for a Broken System, economists Carycruz and Caridad Cruz Bueno discuss how funding schools can directly impact student outcomes. Specifically they state that for low-income and Black students, a ten percent increase in spending per student for 12 years leads to 9.6 percent increase in higher wages and reduces the incidence of adult poverty by 6.1 percentage points. In other words, funding schools with mostly Black students is associated with better labor market outcomes later in life.
Following funding challenges, the season shifts towards how gifted and talented students are received by their peers and teachers alike. The first of these episodes focuses on a young boy who moves from a predominantly white private school to Abbott. According to the National Center for Education Statistics, white students are seven times more likely to be enrolled in private school as compared to Black students. While some may be confused about the decision to move from private to public schooling, Black students in 2020, across the country, took to anonymous accounts to expose microaggressions and overt racism at their private schools. I can personally attest to how race shapes one’s experience in private schools given that I was the first Black graduate at my elementary school. I distinctly remember multiple incidents where a student’s parents presumed that my parents could not afford to take care of me. Among my peers, many would comment about how I appeared as a Black dot in photos and some simply refused to play with me because I was Black. Additionally, I was constantly viewed as disruptive and loud in class, which ties directly to the next episode on theme with “gifted and talented”.
When we see a Black girl write curse words on the chalkboard, make fun of students and teachers, and randomly break out into dance, we expect her to be punished for disrupting class. In fact, according to Economist Dania Francis, Black girls are perceived to be more disruptive and subsequently less likely to get recommended to AP math classes by their teachers. Jeanine (Quinta Brunson), who is a year into teaching, is expectantly overwhelmed by the antics. However, contrary to the findings of Francis’ research, she jointly realizes with Melissa (Lisa Ann Walter) that the Black girl works quickly and performs well and should be in an advanced course.
In fact the work of Lauren Mims, a psychologist who served under President Obama, shares that school districts often root policies that reinforce the marginalization and oppression of Black girls, which is why education needs to center the unquestionable brilliance of Black girls by calibrating classrooms towards their academic and psychological needs. What if more classrooms considered Black girls as a barometer of progress?
Finally, Abbott Elementary puts forth two ways that non-Black people can view both Black educators and students, especially those who are low-income. In episode three, for example, Principal Ava shares a TikTok video of Barbara’s (Sheryl Lee Ralph) being the “oldest teacher in school” without resources for her “sad” children. Within hours, non-Black organizations and individuals respond to her calls for supplies, literally barging into her class with smartphones in hand while children are present. We see a similar disrespect when Jeannie’s friend, Sahar (Mitra Jouhari), uses the books for the students as materials for a sculpture in the name of “inspiration”.
In both instances, Black educators and students are dismissed and/or dehumanized, an unfortunate pattern that is further supported by evidence. Recent studies outline how Black children face at least five discriminatory events per day and how despite being able to connect to Black and Latino students, educators of similar racial identities are disrespected, undervalued, and underpaid.
On the contrary, throughout the show, Jacob (Chris Perfetti), the only white male teacher, genuinely attempts to bridge the gap that is inevitably present because of his race. He learns how to teach history lessons by introducing “battle raps” in the classroom, works with his colleagues to advocate for healthier lunches, and regularly asserts himself as an ally even when it is not necessary.
Jacob reminds me of my first white educator, one who led with servant leadership and intention with the sole purpose of seeing me thrive as a student and a person. My elementary school principal was not just an educator, she was a champion, which the late Rita Pierson defines as “an adult who will never give up on [students], who understands the power of connection, and insists that they become the best that they can possibly be.” Arguably, all the educators Abbott focuses on are champions — showing up for students be it dance breaks or heart-to-heart conversations.
At the crux, Abbott Elementary is less mock and more documentary, in that the show beautifully illustrates how systemic failures undermine the learning experience of students and teachers who are not just underserved in Philadelphia, but across the nation. The show is arguably a powerful call to action for non-Black educators and policymakers alike — one that makes the compelling case that Black educators and students deserve to be seen, dignified, and honored.
Follow Anna Gifty at @itsafronomics on Twitter and Instagram, and pick up her edited collection, The Black Agenda: Bold Solutions for a Broken System, everywhere books are sold.
