She is battle-scarred and weary. She is impatient. She suffers no fools. She's also the most dedicated teacher at Willard R. Abbott Public School, and in the role of 30-year classroom veteran Barbara Howard, Sheryl Lee Ralph delivers a performance of quiet dignity and strength that is the essence of Abbott Elementary. This surprise ABC hit has gotten much-deserved Emmy recognition with six nominations, including acting nods for Quinta Brunson, Janelle James, Tyler James Williams, and Ralph, who is a true standout.
The critically praised mockumentary-style sitcom tells the story of an underfunded inner city Philadelphia public school that's short on academic performance, but long on colorful characters. There's the idealistic newbie (Brunson), the disgruntled substitute teacher (Williams), and the ditzy and distracted principal (James), but it's Ralph as Barbara Howard who is the show's voice of reason and pillar of stability amid the chaos. More than that, Mrs. Howard is the grade school teacher we all wish we had — a woman who places the well-being of her students above everything else and who, instead of complaining about what she lacks, has figured out how to do her best with what she has. She's also a woman in the twilight of her career, vulnerable and fearful that she may no longer be able to keep up, yet often too proud to admit it. Ralph finds just the right mix of comedy and pathos in her performance, and that makes Mrs. Howard real and relatable.
As Barbara Howard, Ralph is miles away from the sparkling glamour and dazzle of her Deena Jones in Broadway's Dreamgirls and the sexy sauciness of her Ginger St. James in the 1980s sitcom It's a Living. She dresses the way a woman on a teacher's salary would dress - in muted pantsuits, cardigan sweaters, and sensible shoes. Even her hair is understated and fuss-free. She's a woman with laser-sharp focus; an "old school" schoolteacher somewhat out of touch with the current generation, but fiercely devoted to her students nonetheless. In Barbara's world, there's a singing group called "Black Street Boys2Men," a tech tycoon named "Zuckerburn," and a spot in the Apple Store called the "smart bar," but none of that matters to her, because what she really cares about is doing right by the children in her classroom.
In the teacher's lounge, Barbara struggles to keep her eyes from rolling at the constant unbridled enthusiasm of Brunson's Janine and the sheer lunacy of James' principal Coleman. Barbara is brusque and unafraid to express herself when her colleagues get on her last good nerve, but it's in the classroom where viewers get to see Barbara at her best. In Ralph's expert hands, Barbara's voice goes from forceful and gruff to soothing and melodic. Her colt-like eyes sparkle when a student draws a perfectly round sun and colors it with bright yellow crayon. She cheers when a kindergartner reads his first words from a book. She sits in a rocking chair in the front of the room and tells stories to her captive audience of impressionable young minds. Ralph is so effective at portraying the ideal teacher, it's easy to believe this is a job she could have done in another life.
Despite her control in the classroom, Barbara feels unsafe in situations that stretch her abilities, and with her sideways glances and tightening mouth, Ralph is able to convey the heart-piercing fear, panic, and anxiety we all experience when facing the unknown. When the school's teachers are given tablet computers and must learn a new software program to track students' academic progress, Barbara is completely lost, but reticent about admitting she's out of her element. Although the younger, tech-savvy Janine offers to help, Barbara is resistant. "I prefer the tried and true methods over what the latest doohickey is," she tells Janine, and refuses to admit the only progress she's made with the software thus far is to completely lock herself out of it. Instead of relenting and accepting Janine's assistance, Barbara digs herself deeper, to the point where things go so awry that she's forced to admit she has no clue what she's doing. In a scene painful in its honesty, Janine asks Barbara why she doesn't ask for help, and Ralph pulls back the curtain covering Barbara's stony facade, confessing that she fears she's being left behind, that her star is being dimmed by the younger teachers, and most of all, that she's worried about getting old. This is what makes Barbara so compelling as a character; despite her outward confidence, she can still feel the gut-punch of self-doubt and make bad decisions as a result. She's human, and Ralph is an ace at bringing that humanity forward.
Ralph's Barbara is also a church-going, God-fearing Christian woman, but not so God-fearing that she isn't above engaging in a little blackmail to secure funding for the school. In an episode where a grant program is on the line, Barbara is goaded by fellow teacher Melissa (Lisa Ann Walter) into threatening a school board member who's been pocketing money from the coffers of her house of worship. When Barbara succeeds in shaking down the shady lady and obtaining the grant money, she gleefully announces, "The Lord helps those who help themselves, and the Lord punishes those who help themselves to the church's petty cash." Ralph's sly smile as she utters those words gives viewers a quick glimpse into Barbara's mischievous side, but even when she's being a little naughty, Barbara's moral compass remains pointed in the right direction, because she's doing it for the kids.
Ralph has fun with her character being somewhat out of step with today's world and its rapid changes, but in the show's season finale, things take a more sobering turn for Barbara when the teachers take the children on a trip to the zoo. Barbara is especially looking forward to the visit, because for 30 years, the first stop on their field trip has always been to the home of Duster the Lizard, one of the zoo's oldest living residents. When Barbara and the kids get to Duster's enclosure, however, they discover Duster has been retired. It's at this moment that Barbara realizes she's not just out of step, but that it may be time for her to step off completely and retire just like Duster. Barbara sits down outside of Duster's cage and contemplates the world around her and her place in it. Few actors can convey a sense of resignation without a single line of dialogue, but Ralph does it with nothing more than a faraway glance, as if she's looking into a celestial crystal ball and suddenly seeing a finite future. Anyone of a certain age facing the sobering reality that they're becoming invisible can feel the heaviness that Ralph displays in this still moment, and it may be this very scene that earned Ralph her Emmy nomination.
True to her character, though, Barbara looks at the children around her, amazed and fascinated by the discoveries they're making, and realizes her mission isn't yet finished. It's true that she may not be as "hip" as the younger teachers, and yes, she may need their help in transitioning from overhead projectors to PowerPoint presentations stored in the cloud, but she knows something the other teachers haven't yet figured out — that her job is more than just teaching children nouns and verbs, addition and subtraction. Her true vocation is to serve as a role model the kids in her classroom will admire and aspire to emulate. Barbara knows that if she leads by example, those children will become confident, strong, and prepared to take on all that life has to offer. And that's why Ralph's Barbara is the heart of this little show that accomplishes such big things.