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I've always believed that one of the greatest things about friendship is discovering something valuable in a person you might never have chosen to associate with under ordinary circumstances.
Someone who comes from a different neighborhood.
Someone who grew up with less money—or considerably more.
Someone whose opinions, manners, and outlook on life are so different from yours that you wonder how the two of you could possibly get along.
And sometimes that person ends up teaching you more about life than anyone else.
Which brings me to Blair Warner and Jo Polniaczek on The Facts of Life.
When Jo arrived at Eastland, I doubt Blair imagined that this tough girl from the Bronx would become one of the most important people in her life.
And I certainly don't think Jo expected to learn anything worthwhile from a wealthy debutante who seemed to spend more time admiring her reflection than considering other people's problems.
But that's exactly what happened.
Blair, played by Lisa Whelchel, had money, privilege, social connections, and an extraordinary amount of self-confidence.
Jo, played by Nancy McKeon, had street smarts, determination, mechanical ability, and firsthand experience of what it meant to grow up without a financial safety net.
They were practically designed to irritate each other.
And they did.
For years.
But somewhere between the insults, arguments, school assignments, and shared responsibilities, they began influencing one another.
Jo challenged Blair's assumptions about people who didn't come from wealthy families.
Blair challenged Jo's tendency to assume that wealthy people were shallow, spoiled, and incapable of understanding anything important.
And gradually, both began developing qualities the other helped bring out.
By the time the series ended, Jo was working in social services, helping people whose lives were far more difficult than her own.
And Blair, the girl who once seemed destined to devote her life to wealth and social status, used her inheritance to save Eastland from closing.
Then she found herself responsible for guiding a new generation of students.
I think that's beautiful.
Because the most important thing Blair and Jo gave each other wasn't money, advice, or social connections. It was a different way of seeing the world.
And neither had to stop being herself to benefit from it.
When Jo Arrived at Eastland, Blair Had Finally Met Her Match
Jo Polniaczek arrived at Eastland in the second-season premiere, "The New Girl," which aired November 19, 1980.
She was from the Bronx.
She came from a working-class family.
And she wasn't particularly impressed by expensive clothes, fancy schools, or girls who believed their family fortunes made them important.
In other words, she was the last person Blair Warner wanted as a roommate.
Blair was accustomed to a particular social world.
She understood money.
She understood status.
And she was used to being admired.
Then along came Jo.
A girl who wasn't remotely interested in admiring her.
Jo could fix a motorcycle.
She could defend herself.
And she had absolutely no trouble telling Blair when she thought she was behaving like a spoiled brat.
Naturally, Blair didn't appreciate that.
She considered Jo rough, uncultured, and socially beneath her.
Jo considered Blair shallow and ridiculous.
Well, this was certainly a promising beginning to a lifelong friendship.
And the situation quickly became worse.
The girls ended up involved in a reckless trip to a bar, complete with fake identification and a school van they had no business taking.
They were caught.
They got into serious trouble.
And Mrs. Garrett had to intervene to prevent their mistakes from becoming even more damaging.
Eventually, the girls were required to work in the school cafeteria to make restitution.
I think that's an important beginning.
Because Jo wasn't introduced as a perfect working-class heroine who arrived to educate an ignorant rich girl.
She made mistakes.
Serious ones.
And Blair wasn't simply an innocent victim of Jo's bad influence.
She made choices, too.
Neither girl entered the friendship with all the answers. Both needed to grow up.
And that's precisely what made their relationship interesting.
Blair Needed Someone Who Wasn't Impressed by Her Money
Let's be fair to Blair.
She wasn't a terrible person.
She could be generous.
She was intelligent.
She cared about her friends.
And beneath all the vanity and social pretensions, she had a heart.
But she also had a tendency to confuse wealth with personal importance.
If someone came from the right family, attended the right school, or wore the right clothes, Blair was impressed.
If someone lacked those advantages, she could be dismissive.
And I never cared for that quality.
I don't believe having money makes someone morally superior.
I don't believe poverty automatically makes someone virtuous, either.
But I certainly don't believe a person's bank balance tells us how much respect that person deserves.
Jo understood that.
She'd grown up in circumstances where money couldn't simply solve every inconvenience.
She knew what it meant to work for something.
And she wasn't about to let Blair treat her as though she were less intelligent or less deserving simply because her family didn't belong to the same social circle.
That's what I appreciate about Jo.
She challenged Blair.
Not because she wanted Blair's money.
Not because she wanted to become Blair.
But because she refused to accept Blair's assumption that privilege automatically conferred superiority.
And I think Blair needed that.
Sometimes people who grow up with considerable advantages don't recognize how often those advantages shape their expectations.
They assume everyone has the same opportunities.
That everyone can simply purchase what they need.
Or that financial difficulties are primarily the result of poor planning.
Jo's presence challenged that sheltered perspective.
Blair didn't need to feel guilty about being wealthy. She needed to understand that wealth wasn't a measure of anyone's worth.
And I think her friendship with Jo gradually helped her learn that.
Jo Needed to Stop Assuming Every Rich Person Was Shallow
But here's where I want to challenge Jo, too.
Because Jo had prejudices of her own.
She was so determined not to be impressed by wealthy people that she sometimes seemed equally determined not to give them credit for anything.
Blair could be kind.
Blair could be thoughtful.
Blair could have legitimate feelings.
And Jo wasn't always willing to acknowledge that.
Sometimes she acted as though Blair's money meant her problems weren't real.
Or that having wealth made Blair's feelings less important.
I don't agree with that.
A person can be wealthy and still experience rejection.
Loneliness.
Family problems.
Embarrassment.
And heartbreak.
Money may provide security and opportunities, but it doesn't eliminate every human difficulty.
And I think Jo needed to recognize that.
The sixth-season episode "The Rich Aren't Different," which aired December 12, 1984, demonstrates the problem particularly well.
Jo borrows one of Blair's watches and accidentally breaks it.
Now, I don't think accidents automatically make someone irresponsible.
Things happen.
But when you borrow something that belongs to another person, you have an obligation to treat it carefully.
And if you damage it, you should take responsibility.
Jo doesn't initially show much remorse.
After all, Blair has plenty of money.
She can afford another watch.
But that misses the point.
Having enough money to replace something doesn't mean another person is entitled to damage it without taking responsibility.
Blair becomes so angry that she takes Jo to small claims court.
Now, I have to laugh.
Only Blair Warner could turn a broken wristwatch into a legal proceeding involving her roommate.
But underneath the comedy, I think she has a legitimate complaint.
Jo can't demand respect for her own circumstances while dismissing Blair's property and feelings simply because Blair has more money.
That's a double standard.
And friendship shouldn't work that way.
The lesson goes both directions.
Blair needs to recognize that people with less money deserve equal dignity.
Jo needs to recognize that people with more money deserve it, too.
Respect isn't supposed to depend on which side of the tracks someone grew up on.
And I think both girls needed to learn that.
Their Trip to New York Showed How Much They'd Already Changed
One of the best demonstrations of Blair and Jo's growing friendship comes in the third-season episode "New York, New York," which aired March 3, 1982.
The girls visit old friends from their lives before Eastland brought them together.
Blair reconnects with Dina Becker, a girl from her privileged social circle.
Jo reconnects with Jesse, someone from her old neighborhood.
And at first, it's almost as though the two girls have stepped back into their former worlds.
Blair is surrounded by the familiar language of fashion, status, and social expectations.
Jo is back among people who remember her as the tough girl from the Bronx.
But something has changed.
They don't fit those old worlds quite as comfortably anymore.
Blair has become more independent.
Jo has developed a broader understanding of people outside her neighborhood.
And their old friends don't entirely understand those changes.
I think that's a wonderfully realistic situation.
Sometimes we outgrow certain friendships without anyone necessarily becoming a terrible person.
We develop new interests.
We encounter different experiences.
And we begin questioning assumptions we once accepted without thinking.
Then we return to people who knew us years earlier, and they expect us to be exactly the same.
But we're not.
And sometimes they don't like that.
Or they simply don't understand it.
What makes the episode so meaningful is that Blair and Jo begin recognizing how much their friendship has changed them.
The wealthy girl and the tough girl have developed a connection that neither of their old social circles fully appreciates.
And that friendship has become more meaningful than either expected.
They didn't stop belonging to their original worlds. They simply discovered that the world was larger than the one they'd grown up in.
I love that lesson.
Because expanding our understanding of people doesn't require rejecting our backgrounds.
It requires recognizing that our backgrounds aren't the only valid way to experience life.
They Learned That Pride Can Get in the Way of Accepting Help
There's another quality Blair and Jo shared that I think made their friendship both difficult and valuable.
Pride.
Blair had plenty of it.
So did Jo.
Blair was proud of her family, her appearance, her social standing, and her accomplishments.
Jo was proud of her independence, her resourcefulness, and her ability to manage without depending on wealthy people.
Neither girl particularly enjoyed admitting she needed help.
And I think that's part of why they were good for each other.
Blair needed to discover that money couldn't automatically solve every emotional problem.
Jo needed to discover that accepting help didn't automatically make her weak.
There's a difference between becoming dependent on someone and allowing a friend to help when help is genuinely needed.
I think Jo sometimes struggled with that distinction.
She was determined to earn her way.
To maintain her dignity.
And to avoid being treated as someone's charity project.
I admire that.
But a person shouldn't have to refuse every kindness simply to demonstrate independence.
And Blair needed to understand that offering assistance didn't make her superior to the person receiving it.
A gift should help the recipient without turning the giver into the most important person in the room.
That's the kind of consideration a genuine friendship should teach.
And it's a lesson these two women continued learning well into adulthood.
Jo's Financial Struggles Weren't an Abstract Lesson for Blair
In the fourth-season episode "Help from Home," Jo faces a problem Blair doesn't have to consider in quite the same way.
College expenses.
Both girls have been accepted to Langley College.
But Jo worries about the financial burden attending college will place on her family.
Her mother is already working hard.
Money is tight.
And Jo doesn't want her education to become an unbearable expense.
So she considers giving up the opportunity.
I find that heartbreaking.
Because Jo has worked hard to get into college.
She has the intelligence and determination to succeed.
But financial circumstances threaten to prevent her from taking advantage of what she's earned.
Blair, meanwhile, can approach educational opportunities with a very different level of financial security.
That doesn't mean Blair hasn't worked hard.
It doesn't mean she's unintelligent.
And it doesn't mean she doesn't deserve her success.
But it does mean the two girls are facing different obstacles.
Two people can have equal ability and determination without having equal opportunities.
And I think that's one of the most important lessons Blair could learn from Jo.
It's easy to talk about success as though everyone begins at the same starting line.
But they don't.
Some people have family money.
Some have supportive professional connections.
Some have access to excellent schools without worrying about tuition.
And others have to work extraordinarily hard simply to reach the same opportunity.
I don't believe wealth is something a person should automatically apologize for.
But I do believe privilege creates an opportunity to understand how much harder certain things may be for someone else.
And eventually, Blair began using her advantages in ways that demonstrated that understanding.
Mrs. Garrett Deserves Credit, but She Didn't Do All the Teaching
Now, I want to acknowledge someone important.
Mrs. Garrett.
Played by Charlotte Rae, Edna Garrett was the moral center of The Facts of Life for much of its run.
She offered guidance.
She held the girls accountable.
She encouraged them to consider other people's feelings.
And she tried to teach them that good character mattered more than appearances or social status.
I think she was an excellent influence.
But I don't believe the girls learned everything simply because Mrs. Garrett delivered a lesson at the end of an episode.
They learned from living with each other.
From making mistakes together.
From arguing.
From being disappointed in one another.
And from recognizing that the people who irritated them most sometimes had something important to say.
That's particularly true of Blair and Jo.
Jo challenged Blair in a way Mrs. Garrett couldn't always accomplish.
She wasn't an adult authority figure.
She was a peer.
Someone Blair couldn't simply dismiss as a well-meaning older woman offering another lecture.
And Blair challenged Jo in ways that helped Jo recognize some of her own unfair assumptions.
I think that's important.
A good teacher can explain a moral principle. A good friend can make you confront how that principle applies to your own behavior.
Sometimes we need both.
Mrs. Garrett taught the girls about kindness and responsibility.
But their friendships gave them opportunities to practice those lessons when practicing them wasn't particularly convenient.
And that's where genuine character development happens.
Blair's Relationship With Cousin Geri Showed How Much She Needed to Grow
I also think we should recognize that Blair's growth didn't happen overnight—or entirely because of Jo.
In "Cousin Geri," from the second season, Blair initially behaves badly toward her cousin Geri, who has cerebral palsy.
She's uncomfortable.
She's embarrassed.
And she doesn't know how to respond appropriately to Geri's disability.
Geri, played by Geri Jewell, doesn't need Blair's pity.
She wants dignity.
She wants to be treated as a person.
And she challenges Blair's assumptions.
I explored the significance of that character and the real-life friendship between the actresses in my article about Lisa Whelchel, Geri Jewell, and what "Cousin Geri" taught viewers about respect.
That episode matters to this larger discussion because it reminds us that Blair's development wasn't a single transformation.
She didn't meet Jo and instantly become compassionate.
She had to confront her prejudices repeatedly.
About poverty.
Disability.
Social class.
And people who didn't fit her expectations.
Sometimes she learned from Jo.
Sometimes she learned from Mrs. Garrett.
And sometimes she learned from people she initially underestimated.
I appreciate that.
Because real personal growth usually doesn't happen after one inspirational conversation.
It takes experience.
It takes mistakes.
And it takes the willingness to recognize when we've behaved badly.
The important thing isn't whether Blair began as a spoiled rich girl. It's whether she remained willing to learn after discovering that her first impressions were sometimes wrong.
And by the end of the series, I think she'd learned quite a lot.
Jo Became a Social Worker, and Blair Discovered That Money Could Be Used for More Than Status
Now we come to the episode that really brings your point home.
"Sweet Charity," which aired November 7, 1987.
Jo is looking for a job.
Her search leads her to the Hudson Valley Community Center, where she encounters Casey Clark.
Casey isn't particularly impressed with her at first.
And Jo isn't particularly impressed with him.
Naturally.
But she gradually becomes involved with the center and the people who depend on it.
The work isn't glamorous.
The center is struggling financially.
And the people who come through its doors are dealing with genuine problems.
Jo begins recognizing that helping people is something she finds meaningful.
Not because she expects to become wealthy.
Not because she wants social recognition.
But because she sees people who need assistance and wants to do something useful.
I think that's a beautiful direction for her character.
The tough girl from the Bronx, who had spent years defending herself against assumptions about her background, is now working to help people facing difficult circumstances.
And she understands something important.
People don't become less deserving of dignity simply because they're struggling.
But then there's Blair.
And this is where the friendship gets particularly interesting.
Jo and Blair disagree about charity.
Blair points to the charitable functions she attends.
Jo argues that simply writing checks can be an easy way to avoid becoming personally involved.
Well, that's a rather sharp observation.
But Blair has a legitimate response.
Without financial support, many charitable organizations couldn't provide the help they offer.
And she's right.
Compassion without resources can be limited. Resources without compassion can become impersonal. But together, they can accomplish something meaningful.
And I think that's the lesson both women needed.
Jo Had the Commitment. Blair Had the Means. Neither Was Enough Alone.
Eventually, the community center faces a serious financial problem.
It needs money to remain open.
Jo is determined to help.
And she turns to Blair.
But by this point, she's already criticized Blair for relying on charitable donations.
Which creates a rather amusing dilemma.
Jo needs the very financial assistance she's been dismissing.
And Blair knows it.
Initially, Blair makes Jo acknowledge the value of financial contributions.
Then she gives her the money.
A check for $1,500.
And she had prepared it before Jo even finished asking.
I absolutely love that detail.
Because Blair isn't simply looking for an opportunity to humiliate Jo.
She's teasing her, certainly.
That part of their friendship hasn't changed.
But she's also helping.
She recognizes that the center matters to Jo and to the people it serves.
And she uses what she has to support something worthwhile.
The episode also reveals larger financial help for the center, and Blair becomes involved in its continued operation.
I think this is where the friendship reaches a new level.
Jo has learned that wealthy people aren't automatically selfish or indifferent.
Blair has learned that charitable giving can be about more than attending elegant events.
And together, they're doing something useful.
Jo brings commitment, experience, and a willingness to work directly with people.
Blair brings financial resources and practical opportunities to keep the organization operating.
Neither contribution is meaningless.
And neither woman needs to become the other.
Jo didn't have to become wealthy to make a difference. Blair didn't have to become poor to understand why making a difference mattered.
They simply had to recognize that their different abilities could work together.
And to me, that is one of the most valuable lessons their friendship ever taught.
Blair's Money Didn't Become More Important. Her Understanding of What Money Could Do Changed.
There's something I want to emphasize here.
I don't believe Blair needed to feel ashamed of being wealthy.
Money can provide security.
Education.
Opportunity.
And the ability to help other people in ways that might otherwise be impossible.
Those are valuable advantages.
But money can also become something people use primarily to measure their importance.
And that's where I think Blair needed Jo's influence.
Jo wasn't impressed by Blair's bank account.
She wanted to know what Blair was actually doing.
Was she helping?
Was she being considerate?
Was she treating people fairly?
Or was she simply expecting everyone to admire her because she could afford things they couldn't?
That's a much better standard.
And I think Blair gradually began applying it to herself.
Instead of treating wealth solely as something that made her special, she began recognizing that it could make her useful.
She could support a community center.
Help preserve services.
And eventually rescue a school that might otherwise close.
Now, I'm not suggesting Blair became a saint.
Far from it.
She remained vain.
She loved beautiful clothes.
And I doubt she suddenly stopped caring about expensive possessions.
But I don't think she needed to.
Personal growth doesn't require someone to abandon every pleasure or personality trait. It requires recognizing that life involves responsibilities beyond personal enjoyment.
And Blair demonstrated that growth.
She still enjoyed the privileges she'd inherited.
But increasingly, she also recognized what those privileges allowed her to do for others.
That strikes me as a very worthwhile lesson.
Jo Learned That Accepting Blair's Help Didn't Make Her Less Independent
I also admire what Jo learned from the community-center experience.
Because Jo wasn't naturally comfortable asking Blair for money.
She had too much pride.
She didn't want to become dependent.
And she particularly disliked the idea of Blair treating her as someone who needed rescuing.
But when the center needed financial assistance, Jo had to consider something larger than her own discomfort.
Other people depended on the organization.
And those people mattered more than her pride.
So she asked.
I think that took humility.
Not because Jo was wrong to value independence.
But because she recognized that refusing assistance simply to preserve her self-image could hurt people who needed help.
There's a lesson here that applies to many relationships.
Sometimes people refuse perfectly reasonable assistance because they believe accepting help makes them weak.
They'd rather struggle unnecessarily than acknowledge that someone else has something useful to offer.
But I don't consider that strength.
I consider it pride getting in the way of good judgment.
And Jo gradually learned the difference.
Being independent doesn't mean refusing every offer of help. It means retaining your judgment and dignity while recognizing that nobody succeeds entirely alone.
I think that's a valuable lesson for adults as well as teenagers.
And Blair was exactly the sort of person Jo needed to learn it from.
Because accepting Blair's help required Jo to overcome some of the assumptions she'd held since the day they met.
Blair Had Planned on Law School. Then Eastland Needed Her.
By the ninth season, Blair was pursuing a legal career.
She had taken the law school admission examination.
She had entered law school.
And she was trying to establish a professional future.
I think that's important.
Because Blair wasn't simply a wealthy young woman looking for something entertaining to do with her inheritance.
She had ambitions.
She wanted a career.
And she had invested effort in pursuing it.
Then Eastland faced financial collapse.
In the two-part series finale, "The Beginning of the End" and "The Beginning of the Beginning," Blair learns that her old school is in serious trouble.
The school that helped shape her life may close.
And she realizes she has the means to prevent it.
So she uses her grandmother's trust fund to buy Eastland.
Now, I understand why some viewers might see that as a rather convenient solution.
Most people can't simply purchase their former school when it encounters financial difficulties.
I certainly couldn't.
And I don't want to pretend that Blair's wealth had suddenly become irrelevant.
Quite the opposite.
Her financial position made the rescue possible.
But here's what interests me.
The girl who once used money to establish her social importance was now using money to preserve an institution that had helped her become a better person.
That's meaningful.
Because Eastland wasn't merely a prestigious name on Blair's educational history.
It was where she met Mrs. Garrett.
Where she met Jo.
Where she learned to live with people who challenged her assumptions.
And where she began discovering that friendship and character mattered more than social status.
Now she had an opportunity to provide that environment for another generation.
I think that's a beautiful way to complete her story.
Blair Could Buy Eastland, but She Couldn't Buy the Wisdom to Run It
Of course, purchasing the school was one thing.
Running it was another.
Blair quickly discovered that ownership didn't automatically confer experience.
There were financial problems.
Staffing concerns.
New students.
And the difficult decision to make Eastland coeducational to keep the institution viable.
She also encountered Wes Mitchell, a science teacher who wasn't particularly impressed with the wealthy young woman now running the school.
Their interactions included romantic tension, but I don't think the possible romance is the most interesting part of the story.
What matters is that Blair suddenly found herself in a position where her decisions affected other people.
She couldn't simply expect everyone to cooperate because she owned the building.
She needed to learn how to lead.
And leadership involves more than authority.
It requires listening.
Judgment.
Patience.
And the ability to recognize when someone needs guidance rather than punishment.
Those are qualities Blair had spent years developing.
And some of them were exactly the qualities Jo had challenged her to appreciate.
Blair had enough money to buy Eastland. But she had to rely on what she'd learned from other people to become the kind of leader the school needed.
That's an important distinction.
And I think it makes the finale far more meaningful than a simple story about a wealthy woman purchasing a struggling institution.
Then Blair Met Terry, and I Could See the Girl Jo Helped Shape
The final episode introduces a troubled student named Terry Rankin, played by Juliette Lewis.
Terry seems determined to get herself expelled.
She performs poorly in class.
She refuses to cooperate.
And she deliberately breaks school rules.
Mr. Mitchell believes she should face the consequences.
And from an ordinary disciplinary perspective, I can understand his frustration.
A school can't simply ignore repeated misconduct.
But Blair suspects there's something more happening.
She notices that Terry's behavior seems almost calculated to get herself thrown out.
So instead of immediately dismissing her as a bad student, Blair tries to understand why.
Eventually, Terry admits that her parents are getting divorced.
She wants to go home.
She believes she should be there trying to help them repair their marriage.
And suddenly her behavior makes sense.
Not because it becomes acceptable.
But because Blair finally understands what's motivating it.
Terry isn't simply a rebellious teenager who dislikes school.
She's frightened about her family.
She feels responsible for something she cannot control.
And she's deliberately trying to escape Eastland because she believes being home might allow her to fix the situation.
Now, I think that's heartbreaking.
And I think Blair responds beautifully.
She draws on her own experience of family problems and explains that children aren't responsible for repairing their parents' marriages.
Terry deserves the opportunity to continue her education.
To make friends.
And to build a life of her own.
Even when the adults she loves are struggling.
That is exactly the kind of lesson I want television to teach.
A child shouldn't have to sacrifice her childhood or education because she believes she's responsible for solving her parents' problems.
And I think Blair's understanding of Terry is evidence of how far she'd come.
The younger Blair might have focused on the student's disobedience.
The woman running Eastland recognizes that behavior can have an emotional cause.
And rather than simply exercising authority, she offers understanding.
That's the kind of compassion I believe her friendship with Jo helped develop.
Not that Jo was solely responsible.
Mrs. Garrett, Geri, and many other people contributed to Blair's growth.
But Jo had spent years challenging her to look beyond superficial impressions.
And now Blair was doing exactly that.
Jo Didn't Become Blair, and Blair Didn't Become Jo
Here's what I appreciate most about their friendship.
Jo didn't abandon her working-class identity.
She didn't suddenly decide that fancy clothes and wealthy friends were the most important things in life.
And she didn't become dependent on Blair's money.
She retained her toughness.
Her humor.
Her independence.
And her willingness to challenge people who behaved badly.
But she also became more willing to recognize that kindness and generosity weren't limited to people who shared her background.
Blair didn't abandon her wealth.
She didn't stop enjoying beautiful things.
She didn't suddenly develop Jo's mechanical skills or begin speaking like a girl from the Bronx.
She remained Blair.
But she developed a broader understanding of what it meant to be privileged.
And she became more willing to use her resources for something beyond herself.
I think that's what genuine friendship should accomplish.
Not turning two people into identical versions of one another.
But allowing each to become a better version of herself.
Good friends don't have to erase our differences. Sometimes they help us recognize which differences are worth appreciating and which assumptions we need to outgrow.
And that's the lesson Blair and Jo demonstrated.
They were never going to agree about everything.
I wouldn't have wanted them to.
Their arguments were half the fun.
But underneath the sarcasm, they developed real respect.
And that respect helped shape the adults they became.
Mrs. Garrett Started the Lessons. The Girls Continued Teaching One Another.
I think The Facts of Life deserves credit for understanding something important about growing up.
Education isn't limited to classrooms.
Mrs. Garrett could explain right from wrong.
Teachers could assign lessons.
And parents could establish expectations.
But friendship brought those teachings into everyday life.
Blair and Jo had to practice patience when they irritated each other.
They had to practice fairness when their circumstances were unequal.
They had to practice honesty when one of them behaved badly.
And they had to practice humility when the other person turned out to be right.
I love that.
Because I don't believe we become better people simply by surrounding ourselves with people who always agree with us.
Sometimes we need someone willing to challenge us.
Someone who doesn't laugh when we're being cruel.
Someone who points out when our assumptions are unfair.
And someone who refuses to flatter us simply because we happen to have money, status, or a strong personality.
But I also think those challenges need to come with affection.
Constant criticism isn't necessarily friendship.
And humiliation isn't the same thing as helping someone grow.
What made Blair and Jo's relationship meaningful was that they eventually cared enough about each other to recognize the good beneath their differences.
Jo could see that Blair was capable of generosity.
Blair could see that Jo's toughness didn't mean she lacked compassion.
And both began recognizing that their first impressions had been incomplete.
I explored another part of The Facts of Life's moral storytelling in my article about Cynthia in "Breaking Point," and the tragedy that followed a class election.
That episode reminds us how easily people can misunderstand what's happening beneath another person's outward appearance.
Blair and Jo's friendship taught a similar lesson over many years.
People are more complicated than the labels we attach to them.
Rich.
Poor.
Spoiled.
Tough.
Popular.
Unpopular.
Those descriptions may tell us something about a person's circumstances or behavior.
But they rarely tell us everything worth knowing.
What Jewish Wisdom Teaches Me About Learning From People Who Are Different
There's a teaching in Pirkei Avot 4:1 that I think captures Blair and Jo's friendship beautifully.
Ben Zoma asks who is wise.
And the answer is the person who learns from everyone.
I love that.
Because wisdom isn't presented as something reserved for the wealthiest person, the oldest person, or the person with the most formal education.
It involves recognizing that other people may know something we don't.
And being willing to learn from them.
Blair had an excellent education.
She had financial advantages.
And she had opportunities Jo couldn't take for granted.
But Jo knew things Blair didn't.
She understood financial insecurity.
She understood how quickly people could judge someone by the neighborhood she came from.
And she understood how much determination it could take to pursue opportunities other people assumed were available to everyone.
Jo, meanwhile, had her own blind spots.
She could be so suspicious of wealthy people that she overlooked their generosity.
And she could be so determined to preserve her independence that accepting reasonable help felt like defeat.
Blair challenged those assumptions.
And Jo became wiser because she was willing, eventually, to reconsider them.
That's what I think the teaching means in practice.
Wisdom doesn't require us to agree with everyone. It requires us to recognize that we don't already know everything.
There's also a teaching in Pirkei Avot 1:6 about finding a teacher and acquiring a friend.
I think Blair and Jo demonstrated how closely those ideas can be connected.
A good friend can become a teacher.
Not by lecturing us constantly.
But by living differently.
By sharing experiences.
And by encouraging us to consider perspectives we might otherwise ignore.
To me, that's part of being a mensch.
Recognizing the dignity of people who come from different circumstances.
Refusing to measure human worth by wealth or status.
And being willing to examine our own behavior when someone we respect points out that we're wrong.
Blair and Jo weren't perfect examples of those values.
But they were believable examples of people gradually learning them.
And I think that's even more useful.
The Friendship Changed Their Futures Without Determining Them
Now, I want to make one distinction.
I wouldn't suggest that Blair bought Eastland solely because Jo taught her compassion.
That would give Jo too much credit and Blair too little.
Blair had a heart long before she met Jo.
She had people who influenced her.
And she made her own choices.
Nor would I suggest that Jo became interested in social work simply because Blair made her more generous.
Jo already understood what it meant to struggle.
She already cared about people.
And her determination to help others reflected qualities she'd possessed for years.
But friendships can influence the direction those qualities take.
They can strengthen values we already have.
They can challenge weaknesses we haven't recognized.
And they can encourage us to use our abilities in ways we might never have considered independently.
That's what I believe happened here.
Jo became more willing to recognize the value of resources and opportunities.
Blair became more willing to recognize the value of direct service and personal involvement.
And both became more capable of appreciating people whose circumstances differed from their own.
The writers didn't need to announce that one character had transformed the other.
They showed it through the choices the women eventually made.
I think that's much more satisfying.
And it also explains why Blair's final decision to buy Eastland carries emotional weight.
She's not simply purchasing an asset.
She's preserving a place that helped shape her.
A place where she discovered friendships that challenged her assumptions.
And a place where she learned that some of the people she'd once dismissed could become the people she respected most.
By helping the next generation, Blair was passing forward something she'd received from Mrs. Garrett, Jo, and the other girls.
And I think that's a lovely ending.
One clarification matters, though: the later 2001 reunion establishes that Blair eventually became a lawyer after all. So buying Eastland wasn't necessarily a permanent abandonment of her legal ambitions.
It was a decision to use her resources for something she believed mattered at that stage of her life.
And I appreciate that distinction.
Because helping others doesn't require us to give up every ambition.
Sometimes it means finding a way to make those ambitions and advantages useful to someone besides ourselves.
What I'd Want Young People to Learn From Blair and Jo
If I were using The Facts of Life to teach young people about friendship, I wouldn't simply tell them to make friends with people from different backgrounds.
I'd want them to understand why those relationships can be valuable.
I'd encourage them not to assume a wealthy person is automatically spoiled.
Not to assume a poor person lacks ambition.
Not to assume someone with a rough manner lacks compassion.
And not to assume someone who enjoys expensive things is incapable of generosity.
I'd also want them to understand that friendship involves responsibility.
If a friend behaves badly, you should be willing to tell her.
If she needs reasonable help, you should consider offering it.
And if she challenges something you believe, you should at least consider whether she has a point.
You don't have to agree.
But you shouldn't automatically dismiss her simply because her experience differs from yours.
I'd want young people to recognize something else, too.
A friendship can become one of the most important influences in your life without either person becoming the other's project.
You don't need to rescue someone.
You don't need to reshape her personality.
And you don't need to convince her that your way of living is superior.
Sometimes you simply need to appreciate the qualities she possesses and be willing to share the qualities you possess.
The best friendships don't make one person feel superior and the other feel grateful. They allow both people to contribute something valuable.
That's what I think Blair and Jo eventually achieved.
And it's a lesson plenty of adults could benefit from learning.
My Verdict: Blair and Jo Were Each Other's Most Unexpected Education
When I think about the ending of The Facts of Life, I don't find the possible romance between Blair and Wes Mitchell nearly as interesting as the woman Blair had become.
Here's someone who began the series believing that money, beauty, and social status were enormously important.
Then she spent years living and working alongside a girl who challenged those assumptions at practically every opportunity.
Jo wasn't impressed by Blair's wealth.
She wasn't intimidated by her social position.
And she certainly wasn't afraid to tell Blair when she was behaving foolishly.
But Jo also learned something.
Blair wasn't simply a spoiled rich girl.
She was capable of loyalty.
Generosity.
And genuine consideration for other people.
She could use her advantages to help someone.
And she could offer friendship without expecting the other person to abandon her dignity.
Over the years, both women became more understanding.
More compassionate.
And more willing to recognize that their own experiences weren't the only valid way of looking at life.
I think their adult choices reflected that growth.
Jo found meaningful work helping people at a community center.
Blair used her money to support that center and eventually to rescue Eastland.
And when Blair encountered a troubled student whose parents were divorcing, she didn't simply dismiss the girl as a disciplinary problem.
She listened.
She recognized the fear behind the behavior.
And she offered guidance.
I can't help thinking about how different that was from the girl who once considered Jo socially beneath her.
Now Blair was making room in her life for children who needed understanding rather than judgment.
And Jo, who'd arrived at Eastland convinced she didn't need anyone, had learned the value of friendship, cooperation, and accepting help without surrendering her independence.
That's a remarkable journey.
I don't think one girl made the other into a good person.
They already had good qualities.
But they helped each other recognize those qualities, develop them, and use them more wisely.
At fifty-one, I've become convinced that some of the most valuable people we encounter are the ones who challenge our assumptions without demanding that we abandon who we are.
The people who make us reconsider something.
Who encourage us to recognize our blind spots.
And who can see something worthwhile in us even when we're behaving rather badly.
That's what Blair and Jo gave each other.
Blair didn't have to stop being wealthy.
Jo didn't have to stop being tough.
And neither needed to pretend that their differences had disappeared.
They learned to respect those differences.
And they gradually became better people because of them.
Blair had the money. Jo had the street smarts. But the most valuable thing they shared was the willingness to learn from one another.
And perhaps that's the greatest lesson The Facts of Life ever taught.
Mrs. Garrett could explain the facts of life.
But sometimes the girls had to teach them to each other.
And in Blair and Jo's case, the education lasted well beyond Eastland.
Sources and Further Reading
TV Guide — The Facts of Life, Season 3: "New York, New York"
TheTVDB — The Facts of Life Episode Guide, Including "The Rich Aren't Different"
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