And that’s what the DSRIP will never understand. What’s your “DSRIP” story? Have you ever had to jump through ridiculous hoops to get reimbursed for something essential? Share in the comments—or just bring it up the next time you see a teacher buying their own whiteboard markers.

But here’s the thing: the DSRIP isn’t really fiction. It’s a metaphor.

If you blinked, you missed it. But for those in the trenches of public education, that one word—DSRIP—carries the weight of a thousand frustrated sighs. In the world of Abbott Elementary , the DSRIP is the fictional, convoluted, multi-step reimbursement process that Janine must navigate to get back the $200 she spent on art supplies for her students. The joke is that the process is so broken, so intentionally tedious, that most teachers give up before they even finish the first page.

Every year, teachers in the U.S. spend an average of on classroom supplies. In underfunded districts like the one in the show, that number climbs higher. Pencils, notebooks, tissues, hand sanitizer, snacks for hungry kids, even chairs—teachers buy it all.