In schools, which mirror the capricious adult world governed by impressionable youth, safe havens have sprouted uniquely, long before the phrase "safe space" was coined into our cultural vocabulary. Amidst the tempestuous turmoil of youthful emotions, children instinctively seek solace in stability, with teachers often emerging as the pillar of consistency throughout the school day. Many of us cherish tales of the Cool Teacher who brightened our school days—I, for one, vividly recall spending my lunch breaks in the art room, munching on snacks and exchanging wits with my teacher, basking in the comfort of someone who truly understood.
The Cool Teacher archetype has graced our media landscape with countless fictional portrayals of educators who turned our school experiences into more bearable journeys. These characters range from the universally adored to the eccentrically charming, from the sarcastically witty to the deeply relatable. Icons like Mr. Keatings, Ms. Frizzle, Mr. Schuester, and countless others occupy a special place in our hearts for seeing us not just as students, but as individuals. Typically, the Cool Teacher is envisioned as possessing effortless charisma or an effortlessly casual demeanor approved by students; they naturally fit into this role within the school's social fabric. Hence, it astounds everyone when Gregory, who hadn't bothered to adorn his classroom even two seasons prior, is crowned Abbott Elementary's newest Cool Teacher.
It all began as a casual hangout for a group of older boys searching for a lunchtime refuge after being abruptly evicted from Mr. Morton's classroom. Choosing Gregory's room as their new lunch destination soon became a habit. They sat across from him as he silently chewed on his salad, enduring their endearingly playful antagonism—asking him if eating vegetables would "impress the ladies," accompanied by laughter and playful slaps between farts. It was like a junior version of a barbershop scene, replete with frequent mentions of "females," starkly contrasting the ambiance Gregory aspired to cultivate, particularly during his free periods. He requested Jacob to discourage his students from lingering, but Jacob relished the fact that the kids voluntarily sought Gregory's company, viewing it as a testament to Gregory's coolness—a label Gregory earnestly begged Jacob to retract.
Next time Gregory found himself amidst his lunchtime entourage, ironically buried in a book titled "Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking," he surprisingly chimed into the conversation. Da’von, one of the more vocal members, slyly announced to the group his plan to gift his girlfriend, Farrah, a new chain—for himself. His rationale was that a boyfriend sporting a new chain was a gift in itself, and status served as "the world's greatest currency." When Da’von sought Gregory's endorsement, Gregory intervened, clarifying that it would be a gift for him, not his girlfriend. Another boy urged Da’von to heed Gregory's advice, citing Gregory's "strong roster," which Gregory disputed before imparting genuine wisdom to focus on schoolwork rather than seeking attention from girls. They absorbed his words, hinting at Gregory's journey towards embodying the mentorship that defines the Cool Teacher. However, his guidance clashed with the efforts of Abbott's original Cool Teacher, who had been nurturing these values for months.
Gregory's classroom has perhaps emerged as the new haven for the older boys, yet Melissa has been an enduring presence at Abbott, long predating Jeremy Allen Black's grand entrance. Confronted by a tear-streaked Farrah, Gregory uncovers a months-long conspiracy between Melissa and Farrah, aimed at convincing Da’von to purchase that dazzling chain, making him believe it was his own brilliant idea (I, too, can appreciate a charming beau adorned with an icy chain. I feel you, Farrah!). Alas, Gregory's guidance inadvertently led to Da’von ending their relationship. Frustrated beyond measure, Gregory slaps a "Do Not Disturb" sign on his door, keeping the boys at bay but not deterring Mr. Johnson and Melissa, who challenge him to reconsider if he's abandoning his teaching duties. Determined to rise to the challenge, the next day, Gregory lays down a set of ground rules for the students, enforcing a strict no-talk-about-relationships policy and banning the word "females." Moving ahead, they're allowed to hang out and even let rip the odd fart, as long as they maintain respect and productivity, assisting Gregory in his garden endeavors. Witnessing the inception of Gregory's Garden Goofballs, amidst the episode's other narratives, is amusing and heartwarming, true to Abbott Elementary's reputation. Nevertheless, it doesn't elicit the same sidesplitting laughter as previous episodes; rather, it relies on the sincerity that makes for such an enjoyable viewing experience. As Clint Worthington penned in his review, "One of Abbott's challenges is that, for a sitcom, it's far more intent on warming hearts than busting guts." Personally, this sincerity doesn't bother me much—considering the numerous episodes in a season, we can't anticipate them all being bursting with jokes—but compared to others, tonight's falls a tad short in the comedy department.
The show's comedy shines brightest when it's an ensemble affair, and with Janine away from the school during her fellowship, the chemistry is disrupted, with the cast finding their rhythm in smaller group scenes and new actors easing into the Abbott Universe. Quinta Brunson (and viewers alike) is testing the waters with the actors portraying her new colleagues—particularly Josh Segarra, who embodies Manny—as her character navigates her role at the district. Janine channels her inner Leslie Knope as she pitches her maiden passion project as a fellow: securing an ASL interpreter for Jacob's deaf student, Imani. Granted the green light to proceed, she encounters a labyrinthine bureaucracy akin to a metaphorical brick wall seemingly insurmountable. Janine jumps through hoop after hoop (including being redirected back to her own office) before nearly succumbing to the paperwork beast the government forces us to confront when seeking a fundamental human right.
Manny steps in, assuming Gregory's role as the adorable co-worker who inspires Janine to be her best self. He suggests navigating the wall by bending the rules rather than bashing into it head-on. She bypasses everyone and initiates a plan where Imani's family would politely threaten to invoke the district's worst nightmare: negative publicity. Fearing a damning narrative about their lack of accessibility, the district expedites the process, successfully pairing Imani with a qualified ASL interpreter. It's a triumph for Janine, accompanied by a sprinkling of humorous moments, but again, it's more heartwarming than side-splitting, and Quinta is clearly still forging that chemistry with her new co-stars. However, I spy an endeavor to infuse comedy into the series as everyone acclimates to the new narratives and actors, marked by the ingenious inclusion of a familiar face.
Tariq makes his long-awaited seasonal debut in his third avatar on the show, shedding his past identities as Janine's romantic interest and an anti-drug rapper. Now, he proudly proclaims himself the stepfather to the seven-week-old love interest's son, Nick. Nick, who attends Barbara's class, inadvertently elevates Barbara to the status of "stepteacher" in Tariq's quirky perception. The longevity of this relationship remains uncertain, swayed by the whims of both Zach Fox's writing and Tariq's character—it could flit like a butterfly for just two episodes or linger like a monument throughout the series. Yet, one hopes Tariq continues to grace the screens as a recurring character, given his recent heroics in relieving his girlfriend of school pickup duties while she toilets to sustain their household.
Diving headfirst into the murky waters of "common law" fatherhood, Tariq endearingly dubs the boy Tariq Jr. and eagerly attempts to bond by suggesting they watch 'Set It Off' together. When his bonding endeavors falter, Tariq seeks solace in Barbara's wisdom. She gently steers him towards understanding Nick as an individual, urging him to cultivate an authentic relationship. Heeded, Tariq returns to pick Nick up from school, this time using the correct name and even adopting the moniker Nick Sr. himself, in a rather obvious display of affection. He whimsically proposes the creation of a PTA—a Parent-Tariq Alliance—only to bump into his "childless ex," Janine, who swiftly discredits the idea to Ava. Nonetheless, Tariq fits seamlessly into the Abbott fold!
