“Abbott Elementary” and Why We Should Talk About School Funding

If you’ve watched Abbott Elementary, you probably started it for the laughs. Quinta Brunson’s award-winning mockumentary about teachers at an underfunded Philadelphia public school is nothing short of hilarious. There’s Gregory, whose dry wit hides genuine care; Jacob, whose eager overcompensation comes from pure passion; Barbara, whose faith and calm keep everyone grounded; Janine (Brunson), who’s endlessly optimistic and always trying to fill in the cracks left by the system, sometimes literally; and Mr. Johnson, the all-knowing janitor who somehow holds the school together. To name just a few.

But the reason the show stands out isn’t just its humor, it’s how that humor hides (and then reveals) a sharp critique of one of America’s biggest systemic issues: the chronic underfunding of public schools.

The show’s power is in its tone. Abbott Elementary doesn’t lecture its audience or drown you in policy jargon. Instead, it uses comedy to make something complicated; education inequality, feel both real and human. By the end of each episode, you’re laughing and you’re frustrated that the teachers have to work miracles just to keep their classrooms running. This is the mark of strong, socially aware storytelling.

Where the Laughs Meet the Reality

From the very first episode, Abbott Elementary establishes itself as a story about teachers who care deeply but are stuck in a system that doesn’t support them. Every flickering lightbulb, malfunctioning toilet, and lack of classroom equipment feels like part of the school’s personality.

But it’s also part of a much bigger problem.

In real life, public schools across the U.S. face funding gaps that affect nearly every aspect of a child’s education: class size, building maintenance, access to technology, extracurricular programs, and even basic supplies. Because funding largely comes from local property taxes, schools in wealthier areas often have significantly more resources than those in lower-income communities.

What Abbott Elementary captures so perfectly is how those gaps play out on a day-to-day basis.

They organize DIY fundraisers (Ava Fest), having to stretch materials as thinly as possible, and celebrating when they get even the smallest things go their way. The show is funny because it’s relatable, but it’s also quietly devastating when you realize how normalized these struggles have become.

Doing the Wrong Thing for the Right Reasons

One of the best examples of the show’s honesty about systemic inequality comes from Ava Coleman, the principal everyone loves to laugh with, but also quietly root for. In a memorable storyline, she’s revealed to have taken bribes and blackmailed a local businessman, who was working on developing a golf course nearby, in order to get funding for her school. It’s unethical, absolutely. But it also makes a point: sometimes, the system leaves people with no good choices.

After a few months of everything running smoothly, Ava gets fired when the truth comes out (don’t worry! she eventually gets her job back), but the situation raises an uncomfortable question. Why did she have to resort to something illegal to get what her students should have had all along? The show doesn’t excuse her behavior, but it forces us to see the desperation behind it. When schools are constantly underfunded, people start cutting corners just to survive.

That storyline is played for comedy, but it’s rooted in reality. Teachers and administrators across the country often rely on donations, crowdfunding campaigns, and personal pay cuts to give students access to basic resources. Ava’s exaggerated scheme is an extreme version of something many educators quietly live every day: bending rules to meet needs that shouldn’t even require bending in the first place.

A Show That Understands Its Platform

One of the most powerful things about Abbott Elementary is that it doesn’t pretend to be an “issues” show. It’s a sitcom, and that’s what makes its message work. The show knows that humor is one of the most effective tools for communicating these kinds of hard truths. By grounding its stories in the lived experiences of teachers, it invites empathy instead of pity.

We don’t watch the teachers at Abbott and think, ‘Wow, poor them.’ We think, ‘They deserve better.’ Which is a subtle, but necessary distinction. This isn't charity; it’s injustice.

And because Abbott Elementary airs on both ABC and streams online, it reaches people who might not otherwise engage with education reform or funding equity. In a media landscape where attention is the hardest currency to earn, that’s a big deal.

It’s easy to love Abbott Elementary and move on to the next show on your list. But what it really asks us to do quietly, and with heart, is to pay attention. Because behind every “funny” classroom moment is a reflection of something real: schools surviving on heart instead of funding. Abbott makes us laugh, but it also reminds us that laughter shouldn’t be the only response.