“The world,” says Quinta Brunson, “is in a crazy place.” To help push against that, to provide a little respite, Brunson “wanted to make a feel-good comedy that was 22 minutes long, that families can watch together but wasn’t corny, and could still be for everyone.” With “Abbott Elementary” — a mockumentary-style show that follows the daily defeats and victories of the teachers at an underfunded Philadelphia public school — she succeeded. A breakout hit on ABC, the show has averaged nearly four million nightly viewers per episode since premiering in December (the season finale airs April 12) and has been credited with reinvigorating the network sitcom. “So many shows had become stressful watches,” says Brunson, who is 32 and who plays the peppy second-grade teacher Janine Teagues. “I think a lot of people are enjoying having something that is light and nuanced. ‘Abbott’ came at the right time.”

The network sitcom isn’t something that has traditionally been considered cool. “Abbott Elementary” is. But your show is certainly aimed at the mainstream, which usually precludes a certain degree of coolness. What allowed it to hit both targets? I think about it like this: If I go back home to my family in Philadelphia, and I ask my mother, cousin, uncle and niece if they’re watching “Succession,” they’re going to say no. Yet “Succession” is hip, cool — everyone writes about it. But the hippest, coolest thing isn’t always for everyone, and that’s OK. Network TV is inherently made for the people. “Abbott” is in this middle space between the two. The reason for that is that on network TV, for a while, there wasn’t someone like me. I was talking to Issa Rae about this. She had a show on ABC a long time ago, and the mold was not fitting, and what did Issa do? Went to HBO and created a monster hit. Now the network sees the value in the younger story, and here I come; the puzzle pieces have fit into place. But it’s not as if network television has gone anywhere. People online are constantly confused about how “Young Sheldon” is the most-watched show. Shut up! Who is watching that? Most of America.

What’s the “Abbott Elementary” piece of the puzzle that wasn’t there before? I’ve read that the show doesn’t sound like a Twitter timeline. People were tired of seeing their Twitter regurgitated back to them through their viewing. A lot of shows had started doing that. But people still want stories. That was important for me from the beginning of writing the show. We are talking about this school, these people in West Philly. They have a job to do. They don’t have time to sit down and have an articulate debate. I think that was refreshing for people — because the debate stuff entered television, but it’s rarely how people outside of New York and Los Angeles are talking. Then I also think that we’re giving people slice-of-life stories. We’re not talking about being Black all day. It’s a show about these people’s lives. There have been recent sitcoms — “Black-ish,” “Fresh Off the Boat” — really good sitcoms, but my generation was starting to get tired of race as the only focal point. The white shows got to just be white, but a lot of the shows with people of color were about the color of the people and not about stories of the people. So “Abbott” also feels like a shift in that way.

Brunson as Janine Teagues in “Abbott Elementary.” Gilles Mingasson/ABC

What do you mean that the shows were sounding like people’s Twitter feeds? That their plotlines were focused on the news? For my Twitter timeline every day, there’s a major discussion — usually to do with race or class or politics. People may sit on Twitter and debate all day, but they don’t want to see that on TV. One reason I wanted to make this show was that in a school like Abbott, you’re doing your job and the topics of the day are these kids. The teachers have to keep these kids fed and alive, and teach them. That mess is enough for you to be tuned in. We don’t have to mine social media for topics.

You’re not a version of “Law & Order.” Exactly. I think that’s where “S.N.L.” starts to struggle too: The joke is ahead of them all the time. “S.N.L.” has to do topical work, and it sucks, because of course Twitter is going to get to the joke first. I don’t think that “S.N.L.” is necessarily bad now. It’s just that now you have the internet.

And weekly television writers can’t compete with its speed. You can’t, and that’s just that.

How much of that shift you just mentioned is about the larger culture changing and how much is it about the culture of network television changing? What changed to make something like “Abbott” possible is that finally, network has a good understanding of the millennial way. Networks 10 years ago were like: “What the hell are you guys talking about? You sound crazy. Get out of here.” After years of projects like “Atlanta” and “I May Destroy You” and “Insecure” and even “Ted Lasso” and “Russian Doll,” they get it more now. They’re like: “OK, didn’t understand before: You guys are gay, you’re multiracial. We thought that people would come with pitchforks, but it turns out there’s a market here.” Then comes something like “Abbott.” I don’t think we push the envelope too much — that makes us work as a network show — but we’re bringing a lot of what people enjoy about streaming shows and even something like TikTok. An abundance of non sequiturs is very internet-y. But another thing I was proud of — that may not be internet humor but that I think is internet culture — was the episode when we found out one of our characters is gay. It was important to us to not make it a “coming out” story. Instead it was like Janine and Jacob are people who probably have grown up with queer or gay people in their life. They’re not going to have a coming-out discussion. It represented my generation in a way that I had yet to see on network TV. Just matter-of-fact and not a huge deal. I was proud of that.

You also mentioned “Ted Lasso,” which was the last big new hit sitcom before your show and also, like “Abbott,” has a kind of feel-good sensibility — to the extent that in its second season, it didn’t even really have any antagonistic characters anymore. I adored the first season. It’s one of the best seasons in recent television. I guess that’s all I’ll say.

I won’t ask you whether you liked the show’s second season, but I am curious about what you made of the discourse around it. There was a real critical backlash. I didn’t really follow the discourse. The first season, to me, worked well for having multilayered people, people who are both villains and good, but in the second season, I didn’t feel there was much conflict anymore. Which, on one hand — great. People came to that show for the feel-good part of it. But one of the things I liked the most was the dynamic with Hannah’s character. Because you still left the episode feeling good and also hopeful that this character could be better. So I didn’t follow the discourse, but as a fan, I like when they lean more into showing both sides of the characters.

Brunson with Freddie Ransome in ‘‘Hair Flick by BuzzFeed’’ (2019). BuzzFeed

Are you already thinking about ways to avoid your show getting stuck in ruts? I am, but the difference is, with the 22-minute sitcom, the basics are “situation” and “comedy.” It’s in the name. We don’t have to do much. I was tuning into “The Fresh Prince” to see Will do something that Uncle Phil yells at him for and to see Jazz get thrown out of the house. Whereas with most of the streaming comedies, you’re expecting a certain amount of development from these characters. If you don’t get it, you feel a little let down, because you’re expecting this high art. I simply want to make people laugh. That’s all I’m here for. Which is the beauty of the 22-minute sitcom: It can only do so much.

Just please don’t do the thing in a new season where it turns out that a character’s behavior was all due to some secret trauma. Give me an example and I’ll tell you whether we’re doing that.

Ted Lasso was so nice because his father committed suicide. Oh, no no no. None of that. I can tell you didn’t like the second season!

I did not. Without spoiling anything, can you give me a nugget of Janine’s back story that hasn’t been shared before? She’s agnostic.

About the existence of God? Yeah. It’s something we talked a lot about in the room that has not come up. We had talked about her being atheist, which I thought would be hilarious. It would give Barbara a heart attack if she found out. But as of now she’s agnostic. I honestly don’t know if we would be able to present that on ABC. It may not seem a big deal, but for a Black girl in Philadelphia — there are very few agnostic people. There’s a lot tied into why a person becomes agnostic. What is the relationship with the family? How are you treating holidays? So I think it’ll become something that we get to do some great storytelling with.

Plenty of TV shows have been set in schools. But what were you keen on capturing about that world that you hadn’t seen before? That teachers have lives. That they are human beings. I went back and looked at a bunch of school shows. “Never Have I Ever”: That focuses on kids. “Euphoria” focuses on the kids. “Boy Meets World” was interesting because Mr. Feeny has a world, but it’s still in relation to the students. The other thing about a lot of the other school shows: They’re taking place in high school or middle school. The kids have fully functioning lives and opinions. Part of what made me want to base “Abbott” around elementary school was that I knew the audience would understand that these teachers’ job is to keep these kids alive and to teach them. They get that. So now you’re more invested in, How are they going to do this? Who are they? What kind of person takes this job? It was important for me to show that in a grounded way. There was another good show recently: “Teachers” on TV Land. That took place in an elementary school, but that show was done in a heightened, kind of cartoony way. What if we took the approach that teachers are real people instead of heightened stereotypes? That was kind of my goal, and that was inspired by my mother. She had my dad and her activities outside of school and her issues the same way the rest of us do. I thought that was the way to go.

Did your mom give you any specific advice about teachers’ lives that you incorporated into the show? She really didn’t. My mom is the person that you make television or movies for. She’s the person that watches TV and laughs and watches a movie and goes gasp! The stuff you write where it’s like, “Oh man, this is gonna get them" — my mom’s the person that gets got. So she’s not interested in giving her opinion or consulting. She couldn't care less.

This is sort of random, but I was reading your book, and there’s a part in it in which you talk about being lonely in Los Angeles and going around with Charles Bukowski’s “You Get So Alone at Times” in your backpack. It’s rare that people mention Bukowski these days. He’s so out of fashion. I know! I remember that year when online everyone was like: “Charles Bukowski sucks. He’s so basic.” I was like, “Oh, OK.”

What did you get out of that book? You know what it was? When I moved to Los Angeles, I stayed at a friend-of-a-friend’s apartment in Koreatown. I was subletting it for three weeks. They had this beautiful apartment. I was going through their bookshelf, and that book was there. What better timing? Here I am alone in this city, I had just gotten out of a gut-wrenching breakup and this book hit every part it was supposed to hit. I enjoyed how frank he was. I’ve always enjoyed very frank characters — forthright in their terribleness. That’s what got me: He was this terrible guy and should change, but that’s who he was at that time. I related. I was like 23, and at that time in my life, there were a lot of people — my parents, friends — who thought I was a terrible person for moving away from Philly. I had this idea: Maybe I am terrible, because this is what I had to do. I’m sorry I’m hurting your feelings, Mom. I’m sorry I’m hurting your feelings, my friends whose calls I’m not answering that much anymore. I’m trying my best. I hope you forgive me. That book helped me to be like: “It’s OK. This is who I am.” It was important. I wish I still had that book.

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This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity from two conversations.

David Marchese is a staff writer for the magazine and the columnist for Talk. Recently he interviewed Neal Stephenson about portraying a utopian future, Laurie Santos about happiness and Christopher Walken about acting.