Half Nelson: On Micro-Level Change

This review was published originally in cinekklesia on April 21, 2007.

Last weekend, my wife and I conversed with a friend of ours who currently is teaching a college-level course. She was expressing disappointment at the fact that her students didn't seem to get it, that despite the new theories and research she had presented to them throughout the semester, they seemed stuck in singular, conventional modes of thinking. She also seemed disappointed at their apparent lack of passion for new ideas and their skepticism that anything could change. After all, if the status quo was largely immovable, then why get excited about new ideas — ideas that (for all practical purposes) are already DOA?

Two explanations for her students' fatalistic perspectives come to mind. First, despite all of the enthusiastic rhetoric (propaganda) about the value of a liberal-arts education, most students are in it for the piece of paper that lands them higher-paying jobs. Ideas are only valuable insofar as they can be regurgitated on essays and exams for the purpose of getting a decent grade, graduating, and moving on.

Secondly, perhaps my friend's students are simply onto something. Perhaps large, macro change is not realistic, that hoping for anything different is simply an exercise in banging one's head against a wall. Granted, her students' fatalism may stem from their own life goals: they don't want to become activists, and if enough of their peers feel the same way, then change won't happen — the proverbial self-fulfilling prophecy. Then again, maybe they simply looked at their parents—the narcissistic Baby Boomers who once espoused hope and idealism, only to became conventional bankers, doctors, and lawyers—and realized that calls for social change are simply naive and/or deceptive.

In its own way, Ryan Fleck's Half Nelson (2006) examines the question of whether change is ever possible and if so, at what level. Ryan Gosling plays Dan Dunne, a white history teacher in an inner-city school with a primarily African-American student body. He eschews the standard curricula in order to teach his students from a broader perspective: rather than teach what happened, he wants to raise their consciousness about the how, specifically the role of struggle in bringing about social change. (Who said Marxism was dead?) One gets the sense that Dan initially intended to teach at an inner-city school, that he wanted to "do good," "make a difference," and "change kids' lives."

Yet, Dan's mission is thwarted by a major stumbling block: a prodigious drug habit. He barely can show up to school, and even though he can put together an interesting (albeit unconventional) lesson for his students, it is obvious that he is always on the razor's edge between function and dysfunction. At some point, we must ask ourselves whether Dan is playing the role of hypocrite: how can he encourage his students to think in terms of macro-level change when he seems unable or unwilling to make a micro-level change in his own life?

The question of life-altering change also haunts one of Dan's students, Drey (Shareeka Epps). Her father is practically non-existent, her mother is overworked, and her brother is in prison for drug dealing. Thus, in terms of adult role models, she has to make a choice between Dan (whose drug habit is known to her) and Frank (Anthony Mackie), her brother's friend who escaped imprisonment and now contributes to her family's income. Throughout the film, we see Dan attempting to play the role of protector: while he may not be the best role model for Drey, he at least doesn't want her taking Frank's lead down the road of criminality.

Thus, Half Nelson presents us with two questions regarding its main characters: (1) will Dan clean up his act and get his life in order, and (2) which path will Drey ultimately choose? I won't provide more in terms of plot specifics, but I will say that Fleck presents us with a tiny glimmer of optimism at the end. Half Nelson is elegant in that it lacks the tedious (and potentially racist) didacticism that one would expect from a film about a white teacher in an inner-city school, and it also lacks an overdrawn ending — Fleck gives us just enough information (and no more) to draw a potentially positive conclusion.

Ultimately, Half Nelson demonstrates that micro-level change is all that we should hope to accomplish in life. The sweeping historical changes about which Dan tried to teach his students are rare events, and I hypothesize that most of those were the result of factors external to—and beyond the control of—the actors involved. Even the notion that by changing ourselves, we can change the world is overly optimistic; after all, by changing ourselves, we may affect only the few people in our immediate sphere of influence.

While this may seem like a depressing perspective, it is actually quite hopeful. While most change may occur at an individual and local level, it still occurs. Encouraging students (or anybody) to "think big" and to fight for broad, sweeping reforms merely sets them up for disappointment, frustration, and burnout. Demonstrating effective, long-lasting change at the micro level and teaching students to maintain reasonable (or even low) expectations is more realistic and ultimately more edifying.