Abbott Elementary Season-Finale Recap: The Final Bell

There’s something to be said about those who immediately get down to eye level to interact with children. Though Abbott Elementary employs a host of teachers with this amazing quality, none have quite as much enthusiasm as Janine. This may be because she is already close to their level at merely five feet tall (the height jokes in this episode are stellar), but she goes above and beyond to create the best experience for her kiddos and treat them like the human beings they are. It seems like an obvious thing for an elementary-school teacher to do, but I laud Abbott for this kind of kid-centered content that’s also marketed to adults, as we’ve started to lose the plot as a society as it pertains to protecting our children.

Abbott’s season-four finale reminds us how necessary the Janines of the world are for preserving childhood innocence and whimsy. It’s not my favorite finale — that goes to last year’s “Party” — but it’s a heartwarming end to perhaps Abbott’s strongest season yet. Janine’s exuberance and dedication to treating kids (especially Black kids) like a gift instead of an inconvenience is a lesson for us all, particularly since rhetoric toward little humans is increasingly veering past snarky to hostile and inhumane. In a world where kids are often treated like second-class citizens who should be seen and not heard, Janine brings a refreshing perspective toward children. But while her chirpy personality bodes well for her as an educator, as the serious girlfriend of Lieutenant Colonel Martin Eddie’s son, it’s a different story.

Martin Eddie is notorious for his no-nonsense attitude and overall disdain for fun; after someone gifted Gregory Mad Libs for his birthday, his dad made him choose words that “made sense,” saying, “Mad Libs promote insubordination.” When he offers to help chaperone the school’s field trip to the Please Touch Museum while he’s in town for a visit, Janine beams with anticipation for meeting her boyfriend’s father for the first time. She learns military time and jargon to impress the veteran, but Gregory insists that she act like herself, claiming he’s never seen his dad enjoy someone else’s company anyway. But has Janine ever given up that easily? She seeks to become the kind of person she believes Martin would appreciate by donning Gregory’s gray blazer, fully immersing herself in what can only be described as an impersonation of one of the “Eddie men.”

With the dull blazer covering Janine’s yellow outfit (a perfect symbolic moment from the wardrobe department!), she transforms into a practical and rigid character, denouncing displays of imagination in favor of strictly educational exercises. When Martin introduces himself with his first name, Janine says she would prefer to use his proper military title. She forbids her students from skipping and running, telling Martin she “abhors nonsense.” Gregory, who is shocked by Janine’s personality change, asks what lengths she’s willing to go for his father’s approval, and right on cue, a student falls and scrapes her knee. In a test of her willpower, Janine struggles to continue subduing her innate need to coddle kids. She puts up a decent fight, though, meekly agreeing with Martin’s aphorism that “pain is just weakness leaving the body.”

Unable to fully repress her natural instincts, Janine excuses herself to “engage with the student directly.” She kneels to the student’s position on the ground, transforming back into her old self as she pretends a pencil is a magic wand to erase away the pain, eliciting an exchange of glances between Martin and Gregory. Then Martin overhears Janine playing with a student pretending to be a “tree ghost” as she shouts through the microphone in the rainforest exhibition, and he prickles at the idea that Janine is teaching children the implication that trees have souls. But trying to tell the wide-eyed students that trees are soulless breaks Janine’s determination to remain pragmatic. She is from the generation raised on Disney’s Pocahontas; of course, she believes trees have souls!

Janine whips off the blazer, telling Martin that she’s a second-grade teacher, so being playful is part of her job. To everyone’s surprise, instead of writing off Janine, Martin indulges in creative play, pretending to be a squirrel with a silly voice living in the tree. Soon, Martin is fully submerged in Janine’s imaginative activities, pretending to be an astronaut in space and chuckling when a foam rocket hits Gregory in the face. Gregory nearly falls into an existential crisis upon seeing his father act so uncharacteristically; it’s akin to recently seeing my own father, who never played with me a day in his life, on his hands and knees playing with his grandchild. It’s jarring, as Janine says, and evokes latent resentment, but it was also an opportunity for me to see my dad in a different light and consider why he raised me the way he did.

Sometimes, parents view their children in the future tense, always preparing them for whatever challenges they know life can throw at them. For a lot of Black dads, specifically those of a certain generation, life dealt them an unfairly tough hand, leaving them in a constant state of survival where feelings and sentimentality could be the difference between life and death. This rings true for Martin, a military man who lost his spouse and parenting partner when Gregory was 9. Janine encourages Gregory to use this moment to open the door for a conversation, because maybe his father is capable of more feelings than he realizes. Gregory pulls Martin aside, expressing surprise at the sudden goofiness. Martin tries to minimize his stern parenting until Gregory reminds him of the Mad Libs. Martin admits to lacking balance in his rigid ways, something that would prompt Gregory’s mother to tell him to relax. He says Janine reminds him of his late wife, saying, “Sometimes, men like us do well with partners like her,” proving that Martin didn’t care if Janine’s personality differed from his. Instead, he found comfort in Janine as someone who would complement his son to create the perfect match.

As Janine is on her quest to impress Martin, Jacob enlists Barbara’s and Melissa’s help to ensure the final field trip leaves an impression on his soon-to-be high-school students. The tweens, who roll their eyes and drag their feet for most of the day, complain that the Please Touch Museum is for babies, a sentiment worsened by the sheer elation from the younger set of kids. Jacob’s attempts at hyping them up go as well as any effort from a white man of his demographic could, and the teachers can’t find anything in the museum that sparks joy in the eighth-graders. Not even Mr. Johnson attempting to teach them about workers comp by pretending to slip on a fake banana in the grocery-store simulation does the trick. But there is one thing irresistible to preteens: shit-talking authority figures.

The museum guide suggests the older kids take advantage of the empty theater by writing and performing a play about their teachers, and we quickly learn the staff at Abbott aren’t the only ones with the jokes. The older classes create a satirical play titled “The Final Bell,” summing up the season’s drama with the district while having the teachers play each other. Barbara plays Melissa, Melissa plays Jacob, Jacob plays Barbara, while Janine and Gregory play each other (naturally, Mr. Johnson plays himself, because, as the kids say, who else could?). They read from cue cards, ripping into each other using the students’ words while leaning into their impressions as laughter fills the auditorium, marking a memorable trip for the whole school.

We end the season with the teachers reflecting on the nostalgia and fulfillment of seeing their students rise through the ranks as they mature into teenagers ready for high school. We can relate as viewers; we’ve witnessed Abbott go from being The Little Show That Could to an Emmy-winning staple that I’m certain will be a part of defining this era of television. In an interview with Time magazine two years ago, Quinta Brunson said, “Through Janine and the rest of the characters, I hope to be able to help people love themselves a little bit more, and give themselves grace and appreciate the hardworking people in their lives.” Season four achieves this tenfold, and I’m excited to see where the show takes us next.

Teacher’s Notes

• I enjoy seeing Ava back as principal almost as much as I enjoy seeing O’Shon love her out loud! The earring story line was great — they were butt-ass ugly — and Ava has come such a long way with her vulnerability and willingness to communicate for the sake of a strong relationship. I can’t wait to see how these skills translate next season as we see her “second term” as principal in full force.

• The jokes about Janine’s height were hilarious tonight, but my favorite is the closing scene when all the other adults are nauseous after the rides at the museum, except Janine. She runs around giddily, probably not just because her center of gravity is about the same as her students and hasn’t changed since puberty, but also because, on the inside, Janine will always be a kid. And we love her for it!

• Finally, my favorite lines:

Barbara’s impression of Melissa: “Eagles! Fireman! I got a guy for this, I got a guy for that! Marinara sauce!”

Jacob as Barbara: “I have prayed to my boyfriend Jesus for this day — can you save Abbott?”

Melissa as Jacob: “Hey, you guys, did you see the news no one cares about? The district is trying to shut down Abbott! Perhaps, I, a white male ally, could help!”

Janine, trying to impress Martin: “Boats are not for having fun; they are for shipping freight and spreading norovirus.”