Appearing somewhere in the middle of the runs of I Love Lucy and Father Knows Best, the mid-1950s were something of a golden age for television in that there was a burgeoning level of sophistication in writing and production, but the rules and tropes hadn’t yet entirely crystallized—Jackie Gleason here plays Ralph Kramden, a New York City bus driver frequently trying to supplement his meagre income via get-rich-quick schemes—their modest apartment signifying the family’s modest means (the same Bensonhurst apartment today would probably place its owner or renter solidly in the middle class, but I digress). There’s a bit of post-war tension in the air on the show, with Ralph and Alice each in traditional roles, but with a housewife who isn’t cowed in the least by Ralph’s bluster. The era’s other big working class sitcom, The Life of Riley, about a riveter and his family, is, though wildly popular in its day, tough to find.

Where to stream: Tubi, Hoopla, Pluto

Julia brought with it a number of innovations, not the least of which was in its portrayal of a Black woman who wasn’t a maid—very much a novelty in the late 1960s. Diahann Carroll’s Julia Baker was also a single widow raising a young child and taking on a traditional pink-collar role as a nurse, in this case in the doctor’s office of an aerospace manufacturer. Though the series didn’t entirely shy away from discussions of race and racism, the suburban setting and friendly white neighbors didn’t entirely speak to the realities of life for many Black Americans at the tail end of the Civil Rights Movement. Still, there were sitcom-appropriate money struggles for Julia, with the sense that things were secure, but without room for extras.

Where to stream: Nowhere currently, but episodes can be found on YouTube.

The long reign of Norman Lear as TV’s most challenging and yet still wildly successful producers began here, with the story of the ignorant, narrow-minded, “lovable bigot” Archie Bunker, played with such finesse by Carroll O’Connor that he still manages to garner empathy—and even probably a bit of hero worship among viewers who no doubt missed the point. Jean Stapleton’s deferential but observant Edith was a housewife in a deliberately traditional mold, while Archie worked as a dock foreman, picking up shifts as a cabbie by night for a bit extra. It being the ‘70s, those two jobs were more or less sufficient to support a family that included a daughter and son-in-law, but the family was also not living in anything like luxury.

Where to stream: IMDb TV

Fred Sanford (Redd Foxx) straddles two worlds in his occupation as a junk dealer—though the occupation screams “working class,” Fred’s also the owner of the business, which definitely counts for something. Still, most episodes of the show (which was one of the highest rated shows on television for most of its six-season run) revolve around some get-rich-quick scheme of Fred’s, or the efforts of his cheapskate son (Demond Wilson) to save a few pennies, the Watts-neighborhood junk business providing little more than the basics.

Where to stream: Prime Video, Peacock, Pluto TV

Though quickly hijacked by the popularity of Jimmie Walker and his “dy-no-mite!” catchphrase, Good Times, as conceived, was meant to be a social-commentary sitcom in the vein of All in the Family and Maude, the two earlier Norman Lear shows from which it spun off. Some of that survives in the series, which starred Esther Rolle as housewife (and former maid) Florida Evans, and John Amos as James Evans, who generally holds down at least two jobs, almost all of them short-term and involving some form of manual labor, keeping the family just one step above desperate poverty in the Chicago projects.

Where to stream: Peacock, IMDb TV

More of a workplace comedy than a traditional family sitcom, Alice (based on the movie Alice Doesn’t Live Here Anymore), revolves around the title character (Linda Lavin), who takes a job at Mel’s diner in Phoenix to support her son following the death of her husband. Though they lasted well into the 1980s, this show, along with the similarly popular One Day at a Time, were very much products of the mid-’70s, when sitcoms were willing to make slightly bolder choices: placing single mothers in the lead, for instance. Alice is both of its form and of its time: Though money is tight, there’s never the sense that her small family is on the verge of ruin. It’s a bit of a contrivance that a diner salary could support two people, even back then, but it’s not the wild fantasy that it might be today.

Where to stream: Digital rental

“Shoe salesman” is a job that doesn’t necessarily fall under the blue-collar category, but it’s impossible to see the beleaguered and low-paid Al Bundy as anything other than working class, supporting his less-than-appreciative family (including the flawless Katey Sagal) on a minimum-wage (he says) job at the mall. Married...with Children was never intended as a realistic depiction of family or working life, but instead meant to parody the more traditional sitcom of the past before taking on a life of its own and running for a very impressive 11 seasons. That being said, I’m not sure that it’s any less realistic than the many shows about relentlessly happy dads with perfectly satisfying jobs that preceded it.

Where to stream: Hulu, Peacock, Fubo, Pluto

Coming at the end of the 1980s, Roseanne was absolutely seismic. The decade had been top-heavy with sitcoms involving largely middle- and upper-class families who didn’t seem to have any particular worries about money beyond the needs of a particular episode’s plot. It also showed up about mid-way through the run of the era’s most popular sitcom, The Cosby Show, a series involving a successful doctor married to a successful lawyer that went out of its way to paint a rosy picture of family life in general, and Black family life in particular—that these two poles of ‘80s television should both have troubling legacies thanks to their leads is deeply depressing.

Married...with Children was already skewering the family sitcom, but doing so over on Fox which was, at the time, an upstart network with limited distribution. Roseanne was on ABC, one of the big three networks, and it was the first time that a major show had gone all-in with its depiction of a loving family with troubled relationships and economic challenges. Though jobs change throughout the series, Dan (John Goodman) works as a drywall contractor and Roseanne (Barr) is a line worker at Wellman Plastics, a factory that her daughters would reluctantly take jobs at in the latter-day spin-off, The Conners.

Where to stream: Peacock, Hoopla

Perhaps in response to a decade of trying to will a solid middle class into existence by pretending that money given to the wealthiest would somehow trickle its way down, there was a brief golden age for working class sitcoms—even the cartoons portraying families with financial struggles. What plays most as fantasy to modern viewers of the show is that house: Homer Simpson provides the family’s sole income despite having no higher education (and technically, we later learn, not even having finished high school) and can still afford a roomy suburban tract house in a decent neighborhood. What seemed slightly unlikely circa 1990 plays like a wild fantasy in 2022, even given the house’s many flaws.

Where to stream: Disney+ (all seasons), Hulu, Fubo, FX Now (select seasons)

Though sadly short-lived, Roc represented a return to a ‘70s style of sitcoms that were funny without being afraid to turn to drama. Beginning life as a slightly more traditional sitcom involving Roc, a Baltimore garbage collector; his wife Eleanor, a registered nurse, and their extended family. It was quickly clear that the theatrically trained main cast (Charles S. Dutton, Ella Joyce, and Rocky Carroll) were capable of more than standard sitcom shenanigans, and the show went deeper into the problems faced by a low-income Black family in Baltimore. Work for both Roc and Eleanor was mostly steady, but there wasn’t much extra money, and, while there was a sense of community, the neighborhood definitely had problems.

Where to stream: Pluto TV, BET+

Malcolm in the Middle, besides introducing the world to the man who would come to portray America’s most beloved meth kingpin, Bryan Cranston, also represented onscreen the economic reality that had firmly taken hold in the real world—the fact that while office jobs might be more comfortable than manual labor, they don’t necessarily provide any more economic security. Office work, as with Hal’s job here, used to be seen as a step up...but now doesn’t provide any more income or stability than the type of manual labor jobs that used to signify “working class.” Here, Hal’s office job and Lois’ job at a drugstore still leave the family struggling to pay the bills and stay in their cramped house.

Where to stream: Hulu, IMDb TV

Though never particularly buzzy, The Middle ran for an impressive nine seasons without relying on any particular storytelling gimmick or high concept: just the story of the Heck family, a family living in the fictional Orson, Indiana. Frankie (Patricia Heaton) begins the show as a salesperson at a used-car dealership before becoming a dental assistant, while husband Mike manages a quarry. The show blends a bit of Malcolm in the Middle-style portrait of a white family (barely) balancing work and kids, with a bit more straightforward style.

Where to stream: HBO Max

Raising Hope won critical praise during its relatively brief four seasons by walking a tightrope: The show is consistently over the top in style, as well as in substance; but still manages to paint a picture of an American working class that can no longer reliably seen as the middle of anything. The show’s title child is the product of a one-night stand involving Jimmy Chance (Lucas Neff) and a serial killer; Jimmy’e extended family come together (sort of) to help him raise the baby, but the closest to success that any of them have come is with grandfather Burt’s lawn service. The dementia of Cloris Leachman’s Maw-Maw is frequently played for laughs, but it’s also clear that elder care is just one more factor keeping the family on the precipice of disaster from one minute to the next. It’s all very surreal, but very relatable.

Where to stream: Hulu

Workplace comedies tend to revolve around white-collar office environments (The Mary Tyler Moore Show, The Office, 30 Rock, Parks and Recreation, etc.). Superstore, instead, revolves around the staff of Cloud 9, a big box retailer that sits somewhere between Wal-Mart and Target in terms of reputation. The show’s deep bench and diverse cast are largely, and appropriately, focused on the jokes, but much of that comedy revolves around the relatable situation of working a job that demands both commitment and a happy, smiley attitude in the face of both entitled customers and obnoxious bosses.

About mid-way through the series, America Ferrera’s Amy sets out to climb that corporate hierarchy to become store manager, an astute arc which sees her face racism, sexism, and nepotism before being expected to place herself above her old friends, both in terms of power and salary. She’s got it good in the world of Superstore (and in real-life): Unionization efforts are consistently thwarted, and greeter Myrtle is considered so expendable that she’s replaced by a hologram. There’s no bottom in retail.

Where to stream: Hulu, Peacock, Fubo

As with many politicians, when sitcoms deal with the “working class,” they mean “white working class,” and have been slow to catch up with modern economic realities. I’m not sure what “working class” even refers to anymore, when even highly skilled labor and many white collar jobs carry with them the same level of economic insecurity that we used to associate with manual labor. Donald Glover’s Atlanta reflects all of those new realities in the character of Earn Marks, a Princeton dropout who becomes a talent manager for his rapper cousin, but is usually broke and often experiences homelessness. The show (which does an awful lot of impressive things) makes clear that the economy of 2022 is very different than it was in decades past, particularly for millennials and especially for Black Americans.

Where to stream: Hulu

Reinventing Norman Lear’s popular, and also very working class, sitcom from the ‘70s and early ‘80s, this more recent One Day at a Time depicts a Cuban-American, single-parent family lead by Penelope Alvarez (Justina Machado), a veteran and nurse coping with PTSD in the wake of both military service and an abusive spouse. The family struggles with that single income, as Penelope also goes back to school to become a nurse practitioner—giving up more time and money with the hope of a return later on. A storyline in the third season involves the Alvarez’s building potentially going condo, threatening the family’s ability to stay in an affordable apartment.

Where to stream: Netflix for seasons 1–3; season 4 isn’t streaming at the moment.

There’s a throwback quality to The Upshaws in the ways that its rhythms mirror those of traditional family sitcoms. What’s different here is, first, the level of talent on both sides of the camera, and, second, the tangled family situation that doesn’t look like much else on television. Creators Regina Y. Hicks and Wanda Sykes are TV veterans of the first order, while Kim Fields (Regina Upshaw) and Mike Epps (Bernie Upshaw) lead an impressive cast (that includes Sykes). That family includes not just Regina and Mike’s kids, but Mike’s daughter with another woman, conceived after he was married to Regina. Families are always more complicated than TV sitcoms might suggest, and it’s nice to see a bit of that complexity. As for the family’s finances, Bernie runs a struggling garage, while Regina is a hospital administrator with decades of experience but who can’t get a promotion for lack of an MBA. Things aren’t dire (the house is pretty nice, actually), but it’s early days; the show’s been renewed for a second season, and it remains to be seen whether the family’s circumstances will change one way or the other.

Where to stream: Netflix