‘Abbott Elementary’s’ Quinta Brunson Is Finally Putting Herself First

For Quinta Brunson, the end of the months-long SAG-AFTRA strike doesn’t mean a return to the familiar. Instead, it’s a chance for the Emmy Award-winning writer, producer, and actress to join her same set with a brand-new view on life, hard work, and stability. 

The creator of ABC’s hit sitcom Abbott Elementary, Brunson has experienced a meteoric rise in Hollywood that many Tinseltown hopefuls could only dream of. After a number of viral video series including The Girl Who Has Never Been on a Nice Date landed her a production deal at BuzzFeed, Brunson leveraged her internet experience and sharp comedic timing into two network pilots. But they never aired. So Brunson turned to her hometown of Philadelphia, taking inspiration from her mother’s longtime career as a teacher, and Abbott Elementary was born. For Brunson, the work hasn’t slowed since. 

“The most hectic a day could get is while we’re filming, writing, and airing,” Brunson explains, rattling off a daunting day of production as easily as she spells her name. “And then there’s an event after work, so I have hair and makeup for that, and then the event, and then I get home and go to sleep and have to start it all over.”

It’s an intimidating process on its own, one made more exhausting by the fact that Brunson wrote Abbott while most of America was lost in a cycle of fear and lack of work during the pandemic. When the WGA and SAG strikes hit, the writer best celebrated for almost single-handedly reviving the network sitcom had to do something much harder: learn how to take care of herself. 

Brunson sat in her house. She didn’t write. She didn’t create. She got a therapist. And now, after almost six months of a Hollywood shutdown, she’s returning to the upcoming award season and a filming schedule with a renewed desire to stay present and say no. 

The third season of Abbott Elementary, which returns to ABC on Feb. 7, puts Brunson in an unknown class — no longer a newcomer, she’s an established success story ready to take on a comedy category filled to the brim with hourlong dramedies. 

For Brunson, this new era will also answer questions about the trajectory of her career. While Abbott’s a hit, TV shows don’t last forever. And for the one that she refers to as “her baby,” Brunson’s next battle might be recognizing when it’s grown up. 

“If this season feels good to me by the time we finish, I think that it’ll show me whether or not it can go on without me,” Brunson says. “But I want to be with the show as long as it’s on the air. I’m thinking about other things, but not more than I’m thinking about Abbott.”

You didn’t just have the SAG strike, you also had the WGA strike. What did that look like for you?
I’m used to working. And when it comes to what I do for a living, it’s really hard not to work. It’s kind of being like, “Hey, don’t be creative until we solve these issues.” That’s tough. So after adjusting to that, I used it as a period to get my mental and physical health together. Because I realized that that was something I wasn’t focused on while we were making Abbott. From the first season to the second season, it felt like one huge period of time that I didn’t really have rest. So I had to start treating the strikes as my opportunity to have a pause. I was able to move my head from up out of the ground and be like, “Oh, my God, so much has changed.” I kind of had to catch up to where I was now.

To be transparent, I started actually thinking about my mental health and feeling that a therapist was necessary. That was something I was really proud of, because I don’t think I would have gotten the time to think to do that if I had gone straight into another season of Abbott.

It’s incredibly surprising to hear that you didn’t have a therapist before because that makes everything you were handling so much more impressive. 
That was another thing I learned for myself. I was like, “Stop being impressive. Stop.” Us [Black women] being impressive comes with a lot of weight. And it’s this invisible weight. We are so good at showing up and looking fine, and you will not know — and maybe we won’t even know — that the world is on fire behind us. 

This year, I really want to focus on not taking on as much, so that I give myself more time to check in emotionally. On my show, I love to go to every edit, every sound mix, every single session. But I have to start telling myself, “No, you’re not gonna go to that sound mix. You’re gonna go home and you’re gonna rest.” Because in rest is when you do find the time to think, and grieve, and love yourself. 

What does it look like for you to let that pressure go and also still care so wholeheartedly about making sure everything across the show is aligning?
It’s scary because Abbott in particular is just so much of my DNA. I feel so spiritually connected to it. So it’s really hard when I say I want to pull back in some areas, because I feel like if I’m not there, then something will be different. But I can’t think of it that way. My team across the board — writers, production, everyone on Abbott — is so incredible. I have to trust the trust I have in them. 

Being surrounded by so many kids all day, both as a producer and as a character who is a teacher, what are your thoughts on motherhood? And have they evolved at all?
There was a time where I was like, “Oh, yeah, I definitely want to be pregnant and have a baby. I can’t wait.” But then I started really thinking that when I become a mother, I’m gonna go balls to the wall. Because that’ll be the greatest creation I could ever make, and I will focus my attention on that baby 100 percent. So that makes me think motherhood won’t be in the picture for me for a while because I don’t know if I have the time that I’d like to dedicate to a child. I also don’t think I’m ready to sacrifice that much of my time to another human being. 

Does it ever frustrate you being so successful that people assume you’re representative of all Black women, or all Black comedians? 
I don’t feel like I get it as much as others, and that’s on purpose. I didn’t really want to be responsible for an entire race and an entire sex. It’s just not my M.O. I don’t feel strong enough to carry that. I don’t think it’s for any of us [to carry].

A weird moment for me was when I was nominated for Emmys last year. The headline became, “The first Black woman to be nominated for three [Comedy] Emmys” in one year. I didn’t really know it until I saw the headline and was like, “That’s crazy. That’s cool.” But that became the main narrative. Which once again, still cool, still proud of that. But it’s just interesting how no matter what, we have to carry these things. Then, when you get in interviews, I’m [like], “Fuck, let me just get my shit together.” I need to be prepared to talk about Black history at any moment. I didn’t have that prepared today. I just wanted to talk about my cat and my show. I didn’t sign up to be the Sojourner Truth [of sitcoms].

Did this rapid rise to fame change your approach to relationships?
Fame is so nebulous now because there’s so many different ways to be famous. I am a very friendly person. I love talking to people. But I do naturally have to be a bit more cautious about my space because I have to acknowledge something that is heightened these days, which is parasocial relationships. And the relationships people can form with you overtaking the actual relationship they can have with you. 

I have people I’ve become great friends with, who I have met after the quote-unquote fame. And those have been wonderful relationships because as I’ve been on this journey, things have changed in my life that old friends from back home or friends who aren’t doing the same things can’t necessarily relate to. So it’s been wonderful to find really positive new relationships. 

And people love seeing friends who you then get to have on projects. I’m thinking of how folks reacted on TikTok to a clip of you and Ayo Edebiri at a Beyoncé concert meeting Zendaya. 
People are like, “Ayo [Edebiri] and Quinta became friends through Abbott!” But we’ve known each other for eight years. And now we’re just at this place where we’re fortunate enough to get to work with each other on our projects. Ayo’s a special case because it’s really unique for your friend to go through something similar at the same time, and being able to help each other through these things and hit each other up. Like, “Are you going to this event?” “Did this weird thing happen with you?” “What do you do when this happens?” 

It’s just such a fun relationship to have with someone who already was my friend, someone who is another Black woman in this industry. Because there’s so many fascinating times where you could gaslight yourself out of something. And then you talk to other Black girls and it’s like, “Oh, OK.” That’s kind of another thing I’m so grateful to have her for, and know I can talk to her on a very, very direct, basic level. Ayo’s practically family. We always have to tell people we were friends before sisters onscreen. 

I’m really curious: Has your definition of success changed at all? 
When I first started working at BuzzFeed, I felt successful. I was like, “Oh, my God, I have a job. I get to be creative.” At the time, I was making more money than I ever thought I would make in my life. I think for me goals and success are really different. I don’t feel as though I’m chasing success. So this is beyond success — to have a show that people love. To have a house, even. 

It’s weird how I was like, “I’ll probably live in apartments for the rest of my life.” I never thought I’d have a house. Isn’t that crazy? But I will always have goals that will push me to another place creatively, because goals make me feel like life is worth living. But overall, I feel extremely successful. I feel like I am not only my ancestors’ wildest dreams but also my wildest dreams. Little-kid me is like, “Girl, that’s crazy. You’re friends with Amy Poehler. That’s insane.” 

“It’s weird how I was like, ‘I’ll probably live in apartments for the rest of my life,’ ” Brunson says. “I never thought I’d have a house. Isn’t that crazy?”

How does it feel going from such a stagnant time during the strike directly back into not only a new season of Abbott but the upcoming Emmys? 
It’s still so exciting. It’s still an honor. During the time off, I had time to understand what happened during a lot of the award season last year. We were filming Abbott during the award season last year, so we’re at these award shows like, “We gotta be up at five tomorrow.” I’m in notes, I’m in emails while the show’s going on. 

Sometimes I can find certain things to focus on, and for me during the last cycle, it was Sheryl [Lee Ralph] winning that really stuck with me more than anything. But then I had the time off to be like, “Wow!” For a first season on a network show, we were nominated for seven Emmys with a predominantly Black cast and an actual comedy in a world where the rest of our category is basically dramas. 

You’ve got to bring Little Quinta to the Emmys with you.
That’s a good suggestion, that’s so smart. She pops out sometimes and those are such magical moments for me. Like, one time I saw James Earl Jones — I didn’t talk to him or anything — but the little kid in me jumped out. I wanted to be a crazy child again. And those are moments that really keep you going. So I will be bringing my little self to the Emmys.

As a writer, you don’t just have one idea and say, “That’s good for the rest of my life.” So how often do you think about other projects outside of Abbott? Do you ever think you would be able to let the show go on without you?
This third season will be interesting because that’ll answer a lot of those questions for me. 

TV shows feel like babies, where the first season is an infant, second season is a two-year-old, and in the third season it’s like a three-year-old. You know this kid’s personality. They have their wants. So if this season feels good to me by the time we finish, I think that it’ll show me whether or not it can go on without me. But I want to be with the show as long as it’s on the air because I was really intentional about Abbott, and I intended to be with it until it was done. 

How do you turn all of this pressure and attention into a product you can be proud of? How do you celebrate the wins?
That’s what’s so fun about going right with Abbott. Like a couple of days ago, I had a very rough day. The reality of the world was very apparent and just hit me at every turn. And then I went to work and it was all gone. Abbott gets to feel like this bubble where my crew and I have this oasis where we get to create, and it makes us feel like kids again. 

That’s the feeling I always want to have when I’m creating, whether anyone sees it or not. I want to make sure I look at this thing and I’m proud of it. I care about making the people around me happy, of course, and my family and my friends; and of course I care about making the world laugh. But what’s great about zeroing in is that I’m just focused on wanting to make something that I can be proud of. And that helps me celebrate the wins. 

For Quinta Brunson, the end of the months-long SAG-AFTRA strike doesn’t mean a return to the familiar. Instead, it’s a chance for the Emmy Award-winning writer, producer, and actress to join her same set with a brand-new view on life, hard work, and stability. 

The creator of ABC’s hit sitcom Abbott Elementary, Brunson has experienced a meteoric rise in Hollywood that many Tinseltown hopefuls could only dream of. After a number of viral video series including The Girl Who Has Never Been on a Nice Date landed her a production deal at BuzzFeed, Brunson leveraged her internet experience and sharp comedic timing into two network pilots. But they never aired. So Brunson turned to her hometown of Philadelphia, taking inspiration from her mother’s longtime career as a teacher, and Abbott Elementary was born. For Brunson, the work hasn’t slowed since. 

“The most hectic a day could get is while we’re filming, writing, and airing,” Brunson explains, rattling off a daunting day of production as easily as she spells her name. “And then there’s an event after work, so I have hair and makeup for that, and then the event, and then I get home and go to sleep and have to start it all over.”

It’s an intimidating process on its own, one made more exhausting by the fact that Brunson wrote Abbott while most of America was lost in a cycle of fear and lack of work during the pandemic. When the WGA and SAG strikes hit, the writer best celebrated for almost single-handedly reviving the network sitcom had to do something much harder: learn how to take care of herself. 

Brunson sat in her house. She didn’t write. She didn’t create. She got a therapist. And now, after almost six months of a Hollywood shutdown, she’s returning to the upcoming award season and a filming schedule with a renewed desire to stay present and say no. 

The third season of Abbott Elementary, which returns to ABC on Feb. 7, puts Brunson in an unknown class — no longer a newcomer, she’s an established success story ready to take on a comedy category filled to the brim with hourlong dramedies. 

For Brunson, this new era will also answer questions about the trajectory of her career. While Abbott’s a hit, TV shows don’t last forever. And for the one that she refers to as “her baby,” Brunson’s next battle might be recognizing when it’s grown up. 

“If this season feels good to me by the time we finish, I think that it’ll show me whether or not it can go on without me,” Brunson says. “But I want to be with the show as long as it’s on the air. I’m thinking about other things, but not more than I’m thinking about Abbott.”

You didn’t just have the SAG strike, you also had the WGA strike. What did that look like for you?
I’m used to working. And when it comes to what I do for a living, it’s really hard not to work. It’s kind of being like, “Hey, don’t be creative until we solve these issues.” That’s tough. So after adjusting to that, I used it as a period to get my mental and physical health together. Because I realized that that was something I wasn’t focused on while we were making Abbott. From the first season to the second season, it felt like one huge period of time that I didn’t really have rest. So I had to start treating the strikes as my opportunity to have a pause. I was able to move my head from up out of the ground and be like, “Oh, my God, so much has changed.” I kind of had to catch up to where I was now.

To be transparent, I started actually thinking about my mental health and feeling that a therapist was necessary. That was something I was really proud of, because I don’t think I would have gotten the time to think to do that if I had gone straight into another season of Abbott.

It’s incredibly surprising to hear that you didn’t have a therapist before because that makes everything you were handling so much more impressive. 
That was another thing I learned for myself. I was like, “Stop being impressive. Stop.” Us [Black women] being impressive comes with a lot of weight. And it’s this invisible weight. We are so good at showing up and looking fine, and you will not know — and maybe we won’t even know — that the world is on fire behind us. 

This year, I really want to focus on not taking on as much, so that I give myself more time to check in emotionally. On my show, I love to go to every edit, every sound mix, every single session. But I have to start telling myself, “No, you’re not gonna go to that sound mix. You’re gonna go home and you’re gonna rest.” Because in rest is when you do find the time to think, and grieve, and love yourself. 

What does it look like for you to let that pressure go and also still care so wholeheartedly about making sure everything across the show is aligning?
It’s scary because Abbott in particular is just so much of my DNA. I feel so spiritually connected to it. So it’s really hard when I say I want to pull back in some areas, because I feel like if I’m not there, then something will be different. But I can’t think of it that way. My team across the board — writers, production, everyone on Abbott — is so incredible. I have to trust the trust I have in them. 

Being surrounded by so many kids all day, both as a producer and as a character who is a teacher, what are your thoughts on motherhood? And have they evolved at all?
There was a time where I was like, “Oh, yeah, I definitely want to be pregnant and have a baby. I can’t wait.” But then I started really thinking that when I become a mother, I’m gonna go balls to the wall. Because that’ll be the greatest creation I could ever make, and I will focus my attention on that baby 100 percent. So that makes me think motherhood won’t be in the picture for me for a while because I don’t know if I have the time that I’d like to dedicate to a child. I also don’t think I’m ready to sacrifice that much of my time to another human being. 

Does it ever frustrate you being so successful that people assume you’re representative of all Black women, or all Black comedians? 
I don’t feel like I get it as much as others, and that’s on purpose. I didn’t really want to be responsible for an entire race and an entire sex. It’s just not my M.O. I don’t feel strong enough to carry that. I don’t think it’s for any of us [to carry].

A weird moment for me was when I was nominated for Emmys last year. The headline became, “The first Black woman to be nominated for three [Comedy] Emmys” in one year. I didn’t really know it until I saw the headline and was like, “That’s crazy. That’s cool.” But that became the main narrative. Which once again, still cool, still proud of that. But it’s just interesting how no matter what, we have to carry these things. Then, when you get in interviews, I’m [like], “Fuck, let me just get my shit together.” I need to be prepared to talk about Black history at any moment. I didn’t have that prepared today. I just wanted to talk about my cat and my show. I didn’t sign up to be the Sojourner Truth [of sitcoms].

Did this rapid rise to fame change your approach to relationships?
Fame is so nebulous now because there’s so many different ways to be famous. I am a very friendly person. I love talking to people. But I do naturally have to be a bit more cautious about my space because I have to acknowledge something that is heightened these days, which is parasocial relationships. And the relationships people can form with you overtaking the actual relationship they can have with you. 

I have people I’ve become great friends with, who I have met after the quote-unquote fame. And those have been wonderful relationships because as I’ve been on this journey, things have changed in my life that old friends from back home or friends who aren’t doing the same things can’t necessarily relate to. So it’s been wonderful to find really positive new relationships. 

And people love seeing friends who you then get to have on projects. I’m thinking of how folks reacted on TikTok to a clip of you and Ayo Edebiri at a Beyoncé concert meeting Zendaya. 
People are like, “Ayo [Edebiri] and Quinta became friends through Abbott!” But we’ve known each other for eight years. And now we’re just at this place where we’re fortunate enough to get to work with each other on our projects. Ayo’s a special case because it’s really unique for your friend to go through something similar at the same time, and being able to help each other through these things and hit each other up. Like, “Are you going to this event?” “Did this weird thing happen with you?” “What do you do when this happens?” 

It’s just such a fun relationship to have with someone who already was my friend, someone who is another Black woman in this industry. Because there’s so many fascinating times where you could gaslight yourself out of something. And then you talk to other Black girls and it’s like, “Oh, OK.” That’s kind of another thing I’m so grateful to have her for, and know I can talk to her on a very, very direct, basic level. Ayo’s practically family. We always have to tell people we were friends before sisters onscreen. 

I’m really curious: Has your definition of success changed at all? 
When I first started working at BuzzFeed, I felt successful. I was like, “Oh, my God, I have a job. I get to be creative.” At the time, I was making more money than I ever thought I would make in my life. I think for me goals and success are really different. I don’t feel as though I’m chasing success. So this is beyond success — to have a show that people love. To have a house, even. 

It’s weird how I was like, “I’ll probably live in apartments for the rest of my life.” I never thought I’d have a house. Isn’t that crazy? But I will always have goals that will push me to another place creatively, because goals make me feel like life is worth living. But overall, I feel extremely successful. I feel like I am not only my ancestors’ wildest dreams but also my wildest dreams. Little-kid me is like, “Girl, that’s crazy. You’re friends with Amy Poehler. That’s insane.” 

“It’s weird how I was like, ‘I’ll probably live in apartments for the rest of my life,’ ” Brunson says. “I never thought I’d have a house. Isn’t that crazy?”

How does it feel going from such a stagnant time during the strike directly back into not only a new season of Abbott but the upcoming Emmys? 
It’s still so exciting. It’s still an honor. During the time off, I had time to understand what happened during a lot of the award season last year. We were filming Abbott during the award season last year, so we’re at these award shows like, “We gotta be up at five tomorrow.” I’m in notes, I’m in emails while the show’s going on. 

Sometimes I can find certain things to focus on, and for me during the last cycle, it was Sheryl [Lee Ralph] winning that really stuck with me more than anything. But then I had the time off to be like, “Wow!” For a first season on a network show, we were nominated for seven Emmys with a predominantly Black cast and an actual comedy in a world where the rest of our category is basically dramas. 

You’ve got to bring Little Quinta to the Emmys with you.
That’s a good suggestion, that’s so smart. She pops out sometimes and those are such magical moments for me. Like, one time I saw James Earl Jones — I didn’t talk to him or anything — but the little kid in me jumped out. I wanted to be a crazy child again. And those are moments that really keep you going. So I will be bringing my little self to the Emmys.

As a writer, you don’t just have one idea and say, “That’s good for the rest of my life.” So how often do you think about other projects outside of Abbott? Do you ever think you would be able to let the show go on without you?
This third season will be interesting because that’ll answer a lot of those questions for me. 

TV shows feel like babies, where the first season is an infant, second season is a two-year-old, and in the third season it’s like a three-year-old. You know this kid’s personality. They have their wants. So if this season feels good to me by the time we finish, I think that it’ll show me whether or not it can go on without me. But I want to be with the show as long as it’s on the air because I was really intentional about Abbott, and I intended to be with it until it was done. 

How do you turn all of this pressure and attention into a product you can be proud of? How do you celebrate the wins?
That’s what’s so fun about going right with Abbott. Like a couple of days ago, I had a very rough day. The reality of the world was very apparent and just hit me at every turn. And then I went to work and it was all gone. Abbott gets to feel like this bubble where my crew and I have this oasis where we get to create, and it makes us feel like kids again. 

That’s the feeling I always want to have when I’m creating, whether anyone sees it or not. I want to make sure I look at this thing and I’m proud of it. I care about making the people around me happy, of course, and my family and my friends; and of course I care about making the world laugh. But what’s great about zeroing in is that I’m just focused on wanting to make something that I can be proud of. And that helps me celebrate the wins.