Nate's blogs, pics, etc.

Snow Day Festivities

2008-02-13T09:37:00.000-05:00

Our dogs have very different ideas for how a snow day should be spent. It is quite a dichotomy.

Jackson's 1st Birthday

2008-02-09T09:32:00.000-05:00

This happened about a month ago, but I was trying to learn scrapblog recently. So, this is what I came up with. Click the blog title to access a full screen view.

U23D Coming Soon

2008-01-05T00:31:00.001-05:00

Guess who's ONE year old today!

2008-01-01T12:41:00.000-05:00

Who's 1 today? Only the sweetest dog in the whole world: Jackson!

Purposes

2007-12-01T20:06:00.001-05:00

Humanity, for as long as it has existed, has sought commonalities. I could never figure out why so many people can pack themselves into a shopping mall. Then, the truth struck me. It's not the flashy advertisements. It's the sense of purpose. People come to be part of something bigger than themselves. Not like at a sporting event either. There is a much different vicarious fulfillment. I think everyone's internal desire for community and purpose finds some common ground here. Shallow it may be, but knowing is at least a start. Merry Christmas to anyone who reads this.

2007-10-16T08:00:00.000-04:00

This is a loop test. This is being sent to the blogger blog to see if it updates on my freeweb blog and then sends an update notice back to my email address. Loopty-loop we go.

Trading Passions for Pettiness: Teaching in the Information Age

2007-10-08T19:47:00.000-04:00

My wife and I both teach. We both went into teaching because people had poured their lives into ours as kids and adolescents and we wanted to reciprocate that investment into other young lives. When you are first starting to teach, just surviving the daily mix consumes much of your energy and time. Therefore, it takes a few years until a teacher--even someone who has a very successful first couple years--really gets into his/her stride. Once "striding," there is a feeling of accomplishment: the rapport with students develops much more quickly, your competency of the content is distinguished, and classroom management comes naturally. For me, this is the moment when I really felt like students were finally being omptimally impacted by my presence in their lives.

I started having this feeling during my third year of teaching, but I still had some classroom management kinks to work out. Last year was my fourth year I thought I was there in the sense of being able to handle everything. I did have some setbacks, however, that came from administrators seeking a personal agenda that had me in the way of it in some manner and for some reason. It was then that I started to really think about what makes a good teacher.

No Child Left Behind (NCLB) was introduced during my first year of teaching. Blame Bush if you want, but it was Ted Kennedy who pushed it into law and made it an easy way for Bush to show some bipartisanship. Anyway, even a rookie such as I could see that this was going to push states and school districts into some positive growth. However, I could also see some potential negatives if districts started to feel pressured and were tempted to skew some data-recording methods to make it look like there is more growth than there actually is.

The past couple years, we have seen our school district immersed into a regime highly centered around data. Somewhere, someone must have realized that if data could be put into a computer to have it computed in Excel or something similar, then maybe this meant every facet of our lives could be quantified in data. Then came the testing, the learning checks, the bigger push during state assessment week, the pep-talks to students about state assessments, core content documents that had to line up with everything else, and--new this year--walk-throughs to make sure teachers were putting the daily objectives (like a military operation) on the board. Not all schools have adopted the new gimmicks as much as others, but my wife and I (she at a middle school and I at a high school) have principals who drank the "data koolaid" received from the man in dark sunglasses and asked for seconds.

All of this has led teachers into a routine of having so many i's to dot and t's to cross that there is little time left for truly creative approaches to impacting the lives of students. There is a new game to be played. The federal goverment made the rules, the states started interpreting them, the districts broke them down into visions and goals, and the lowest rung on the ladder, teachers, were left scrambling to make sense of it all. My wife has had it worse than me. The middle school and elementary levels have had the most little rules added to the game. All of the new little hoops we have to jump through has left many teachers who were already driven, productive professionals with the feeling that there is no time to have real ingenuity in the classroom. In sum, we have been asked to sacrifice our passions for someone else's program.

I'm sure teaching is not the only profession to see this kind of tarnish on noble endeavors. I know that there is always a level of reality that sets in once you have done anything for a while that you once had romantic feelings towards. Yet, I have heard more than one long-time teacher express a feeling of this being worse than anything they have ever seen. In fact, I have seen some of these same long-time master teachers pulled into the principal's office for not being cheerleaders for the new regime. Whatever the outcome, I have to find out if there is still room for passion. I don't feel I have lost mine yet, but others have not been so fortunate. There has to be something that can keep a devoted teacher connected to the reasons he/she started doing this in the first place.

I am writing this blog entry without really writing down a solution...because I am not sure I have one yet. I will return when I have ruminated and observed more thoroughly.

Here we go!

2007-03-31T10:10:00.001-04:00

Jack says: The main attraction is on his way. Oh, and Gimli is with us too.

Bedtime

2007-03-11T22:16:00.001-04:00

One of us likes the new sleeping arrangement and one of us is less than enthused. You decide.

the big back yard

2007-03-11T16:25:00.001-04:00

First time at the park

2007-03-11T16:01:00.001-04:00

I have never seen a yard this big!

Photos of Jackson

2007-03-07T19:58:00.000-05:00

Go to
http://www2.snapfish.com/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=144499411/a=85874830/t_=85874830

"That's the way this wheel keeps working out"

2007-03-05T08:32:00.000-05:00

Stacey thoughtfully strolls towards the place we buried Gracie two days ago (upper right dirt pile). At her heals is Jackson, an eight week old black lab, collie mix who is heeling our need to love four-legged friends. We thought it may be too soon for a new puppy, but Jackson is proving that loving another puppy is not abandoning a memory, but embracing new life. If you're a dog lover like we are, you may understand.

In memory...

2007-03-04T18:09:00.000-05:00

In memory of Gracie.
November 2004 to February 28, 2007

A relentless spirit and a true companion of the heart with eyes that seemed to look right into you. We will miss you as the joy of your memory lives on.

You have new Picture Mail!

2006-11-14T22:35:00.000-05:00

"The Dam of Self"

2006-10-23T21:25:00.000-04:00

This is a new poem I wrote over the weekend while my wife was out of town.

By yourself after
With companionship for so long
Can cause sudden self-centered moments
Unlike you’re used to having.
Not regressive or degenerative,
Simply the vacuum of motive that
Demands filling the void with the anti—
It was dammed up. If dammed (and damned),
This would explain emptiness now
Being subdued in public milieu.

Others keep focus off ourselves, yet
We so often give to receive;
Ideas of being rewarded
Before even releasing compassion.
Entitlement is my liege
No matter what level of service
I seem to approach.
Responsibility wars with apathy,
The duel of the ages and every moment.

Classic Hollywood romantic surrounds me:
Coffee shop, rain, love ballad, mood lighting—
Any second, the heroine selfishly left behind
Comes through the glass door
Dripping wet with mascara marring
Angelic complexion.
I wouldn’t need this place or want that face
If it were just you and only you.

I used to live for melodramatic autumn days,
Welcome were moments laden with reflections
I know longer remember but still feel.
Come make me remember the innocence
Of once upon a September.
There I’ll find origin of what we see now.
Leaves will turn color, but not before
Turning once more toward wind and welcome rain.

Nice to meet ya!

2006-10-03T13:01:00.000-04:00

Gracie portrays what we really attempt in relationships many times. When getting to know someone, there are times you get close enough to smell the essence of who that person is. Not a pretty way to put it, but still true. It asks: What does a dog do when you meet it? It smells you. What are you made of? Who have you been with? Where have you been?

We all smell and we all smell. It is part our nature. Maybe this is why the Israelite priests burned incense in the temple. (See Exodus 30:6-8) Or, what about that woman with the perfume? Think of the overwhelming scent of an entire bottle of perfume being spilled all at once. Suddenly, everything else is cancelled out. Even other senses yield to the nose being drowned in sweetness. Maybe Jesus realized this and the historical importance of this sacrifice.

Boating

2006-09-03T14:20:00.000-04:00

Cruising in style, this chick knows how to ride.

Posers

2006-09-01T17:47:00.000-04:00

No, we NEVER pose

Ah, Friday

2006-09-01T16:20:00.000-04:00

This guy just needs to get home.

Floodwaters & Foreverness

2006-07-31T08:51:00.000-04:00

Psalm 29:10-11
10 The LORD rules over the floodwaters.
The LORD reigns as king forever.
11 The LORD gives his people strength.
The LORD blesses them with peace.

If you don't know already, David (and the other psalmists) wrote this beautiful Hebrew poetry different from the English poetry with which we are familiar. Instead of achieving unity in a poem by using catchy words that rhyme in each line, they used unity of thought. In almost every Psalm, the first line is directly related to the thought of the second line. I knew there was a good reason I paid (and still pay) the big bucks for a good Christian liberal arts education. I wouldn't know this stuff otherwise.

Anyway, I was reading this chapter in Psalms this morning and it really struck me as one of those Psalms that speaks to the current world so well. God rules over the floodwaters (v.10). He is king. That means there is a flood--perhaps both literally and metaphorically--that he is constantly withholding from bringing our ruin. You know personally and globally what these floodwaters can be. The unredeemed outcome of a family curse or a third world war sparked by warring descendents of Isaac, Ishmael, Jacob, Esau, and the like. Remember, though, he didn't create the floodwaters directly, Sin did that directly, indirectly, or whatever way you want.

Verse 11 then correlates strength and peace. Certainly this is an idea Christians hear often, but rarely understand the implications. I think we often mistake our peace as meaning we finally have everything under our own control (redundant pronouns intended). No wonder we feel like the proverbial finger in the dam so often--we built the dam, so it must have holes. Christians can be so holey. Also, we overlook that peace is God's strength given to us as he being the one strong enough to withhold the flood. So, this peace David speaks of is not just God giving his people his strength through the Holy Spirit, it is also him allowing us to witness his almighty power. That is the predominant source of power people in the Old Testament ages saw from God; it is also the source that people who don't know Christ can see and be pointed toward.

The Icing We Can Make

2006-07-23T18:50:00.000-04:00

That's the top of our wedding cake; we're getting ready to eat it in celebration of our first anniversary. This first year has definitely been incredible and we've cherished the the moments that
have been icing on the filling cake of life. Soli Deo gloria.

Poems, vol. 2

2006-06-29T01:17:00.000-04:00

"Mountain"
Coal black and dominating, leering
Outside my haven’s cloister window;
the luscious time-melting mounds
spread out before you are so inviting
to bliss-seeking barefoot wanderers.
When leaving monastic milieu, my heel
Will pass tawny emerald scenes
(my will the only worthy prominence),
striking harsh, jagged crags
that greet feet with untold malice.
Your knolls pseudo-sublime don’t deceive me.
I stroll and stumble anyway,
treading and struggling without pause
to know that I have seen you face,
have smacked it with my sole and moved on.
--Nathanael Fish
First published in the Asbury Review, Spring 200, Vol. XXVI

"Entreating the Spirit"
Oh, Greatest Love that my conscience
Most earnestly lists to entreat,
Grant me that higher unity
Of which my vain attempts
Cannot meet.
How every faculty
Will not bring its self
To your presence to greet.
So in my helpless estate
Fastbound in grace that my world
Could never compete,
Fill with Your love
My emptied being
That all I am
May be complete.
--Nathanael Fish
First published in the Asbury Review, Vol. XXV, Fall 1999

"Maybe Someday I Will See"
It’s an unusually cold July night in Northeast Ohio. I just turned off a depressing movie that had won enough awards that the publishers listed those on the box instead of the summary. And I don’t know why I came outside to write.
The movie seems to have a lasting reflection since it was about a bunch of loose ends that get tied up. Myself caught in a world I can’t really live in and a belief that I can’t seem to follow, the fish-shaped candle burning next to me has more loyalty in its flickering existence.

I used to mock the ones that wrote so deeply no one could understand, but suddenly it is clearer what their motivation might have been: the waterfall, the children who sing such beautiful songs but never say my name. The other me in the past that never visits, the place where prayer was valid that I forget the location of.

This seemed like a good idea to put this all down on paper but now my thoughts don’t have any more direction than this prose. I usually go for something emotionally buoyant, but right now the only way to get through is to hang onto what I have and hope some new epiphany beings me back. But how many summits of revelation have I reached only to die of exhaustion before I could enjoy the views?
--Nathanael Fish
First published in the Asbury Review, Vol. XXVIII, Fall 2001

Happy Dogs

2006-06-28T13:02:00.000-04:00

Do we look happy now or what? Our parents got us a back yard to run around and do other "stuff" in. We know one person is happy at least because he doesn't have to take us outside on leashes
anymore.

Gracie & Gimli

In Austin, TX at riverfront

2006-06-19T18:44:00.000-04:00

Big Fish Rig

2006-06-17T16:06:00.000-04:00

Yeah, this is Sharkbait to Homeschool, do you read?

My Family

2006-06-16T17:48:00.000-04:00

My wife, Stacey, and our two amazing dogs, Gracie and Gimli

Poems, vol. I

2006-06-14T10:36:00.000-04:00

"Life on a Bridge"
Life on a bridge is a restless one;
Especially when it gets heavy traffic.
Standing in the middle, looking down
at the river with a current only slightly slowed
by unseen low-head dams,
the fallen limb floats so gracefully on its
wide aquatic path, and envy swells.
My attention snaps back to traffic
as a truck driver sets his jake brake
to grind into the random music of many motors
humming my languid mind a lullaby.
What makes it so easy for them to cross?
How are they sure which is the right lane?
I take my cramped, sweating hands
Off the rail and turn to face the traffic
with drivers continually giving me puzzled looks
to ask why I left my car in the emergency lane.
The hazard lights catch my eye
and I am entranced by their rhythm.
My phone rings that same melody
I used to enjoy but now find obnoxious.
I quickly apologize to her for running late,
and tell her traffic is heavy.

--Nathanael Fish
First published in the Asbury Review, Vol. XXVIII, Fall 2001

"Where and When It's All Coming Into What"
The certainties of newness include finding the means to see what is new.
The conjunction of anticipation lies between your
Loosely poignant questions and my precarious inability
To disclose my inner parts.
Buying just a slice of bunt cake at our first meeting
Didn't fulfill your famish.
Never met anyone like this or like this before.
Some would call this random and some would say you're not my type—
A fork can have its prongs bent into a spoon's gentle curve.
Yet, in a land where brazen blondes are a dime a half-dozen (effects of inflation),
A heart of virtue is worth a lifetime at the cancer bed.
Amazing the ways people learn to communicate
Without really having that much to say.
New ways to pass along without adopting fathomable empathy.
I am a veritable ocean including coral reefs, but still at low tide.
If I could only get off this lifeboat and find better nourishment than survival rations;
If you could distract the tiger with the whistle,
I'll hide under the tarp and stab his gut.
Do that or tell the gorilla upstairs to stop jumping
From the window sill to the dining table.
Has my ceaseless transmigration of intuition become so transparent?
If you can see so well, become my eyes
To see through the lazy low-lying clouds of superficial consumerism.
The way we live is the way we eat
And the way I eat is the way I live.
This isn't about you and me anymore, if you couldn't tell.

--Nathanael Fish, Fall 2003
(Particular influences/allusions: First date with Stacey, Life of Pi, and Ishmael)

"Sonnet One"
Written for and read for my marriage proposal to Stacey
With woken steps and lighted path my heart
Approaches the crowning cusp of so much sown
When all my fears of what I cannot own
Now here decree loyalty's every part.
The most delighted avenues are those
Never looking with wary eyes to tread.
We find Him bestowing new joys unfed
And melding us in songs we can't compose.
Eyes once blind now see and blindness is sight;
The dove has descended, love weaves the flame;
Time descends, marked only by love's new name
But for now all else is encased by Light.
May lips absorb forever any tears
And feet dance His true rhythm all our years.

Nathanael Fish, 2/05

Poetry en route

2006-06-14T09:39:00.000-04:00

I guess I’ll start this thing off by posting the same stuff I was going to post on MySpace: my poetry.

2006-06-13T22:47:00.000-04:00

Welcome to my blog. I'm not much of a blogger, but I am always looking for the best place to express what I want to express (pics, usually). So, I guess you can just subscribe and see what happens.