Anytime I have attempted to write about Scotfest with the intention of taking my own personal feelings and experiences out of the blog post, it backfires. I cannot seem to untangle my emotional ties from that of this festival and the people involved. As a writer, I don’t know how to write in a way that is informative and withdrawn. As a reader, I am drawn to a text or book with emotion and heart, things that I relate to, that draw me in. I write what I would want to read. This was intended to be written as a feature of Tiffany and her family but I can’t seem to edit it in a way that doesn’t include those personal ties to Tiffany, the friendship we have, and the love I have for her family.
In each person’s life there are times, a series of events, which they look back upon and realize that their past self had no idea the significance of such a small moment. It happens to each and every one of us. It’s what can lead to regrets. What should I have done? What could I have done? Why didn’t I do this? Why did I do that? How would things look now? If only I could tell past me to do this instead.
My first official job as a professional photographer was working for a local wedding photography company. The work environment was completely toxic, though I didn’t realize it in the moment. I prided myself on a job well done. I tied my self worth into my accomplishments as a hard worker. The harder I worked, the more valuable I was as an employee and a person. But this company was a breeding ground for backstabbing and selfish intentions. I was led to believe this is what the photography community is all about. Claw and cheat and bite your way to success because that is how you achieve greatness. This company fed me the lie they were there to help entrepreneurs achieve their goals. The owner of the company told the entire team at my first employee meeting, “You shouldn’t care about your employees’ feelings, you should care about how much is in your bank account.” Even in the moment it didn’t sit right with me but I thought, “Maybe they’re right. Maybe I need to be more selfish.”
I believed it was me versus every other photographer in the local community. I had to beat them at this game I didn’t even know the rules for, but I was determined to win.
When I first met Tiffany, I had no idea who she was, why she was at Scotfest, or how to even approach another photographer. Another photographer was my direct competition. I knew she was a photographer. I knew she had kids but I honestly wouldn’t have been able to pick them out of a line up. I couldn’t even tell you that her husband’s name is Liam. But I saw another person with an expensive camera, who clearly knew what she was doing, and I was instantly territorial. Scotfest was my golden ticket. Another photographer was a threat. This was going to be my grand opportunity and I would be damned if someone got in the way. So, as an introvert who had no idea how to be aggressive or cut throat, I chose to avoid her and what I thought was a threat to my own success. I assumed any other photographer involved with this event had the same intentions I had and I needed to beat them at whatever sort of game this was.
I was in over my head with no clue what I was actually doing. Didn’t know how to be cut throat and aggressive to achieve the kind of success I was told was important. I’d only ever attended the event for one year before signing up and offering my skills and time as a photographer, but I was determined.
My original decision was clearly selfish. I’d developed a growing obsession with all things Scottish- it hadn’t even originated from my own Scottish heritage. I was a naive and hopeful, aspiring photographer who wanted to one day run her own business. Saw it as a way to acquire connections and get my name out there. I didn’t understand. I saw it as a means to an end, a way to achieve what I believed to be my true goal: setting myself up for success. If only I could tell past me that the way I defined success would drastically change from then to now.
It took a few years for me to realize how wrong I was. Sometimes I think back on those years and wonder how many small but impactful memories I missed out on because of my own ambition. Those kids I couldn’t have picked out in a line up? I’m constantly aware of them now, the entire weekend of Scotfest. Not just because I know they’ll give me a great photo, though the photographer in me is always thinking about capturing the moment. But that’s not the priority. No, my priorities have shifted. Those aren’t just tiny humans running around at an event. That’s Leo, and Cora, and Landon dancing in the main tent. There’s Leo’s drum, but where is Leo? There’s Flatfoot 56 about to take the stage but where is… oh, yup there’s the kids following closely behind still talking to the guys because they want to say just one more thing real quick.
Looking at an event that has grown to the size Scotfest has, most people just see the bigness of it, the grand scale, the numbers, the large crowds entering and exiting the gates. But when you look closer, when you pause for just a moment, you see Leo playing his drum while looking up at Tobin from Flatfoot 56 rocking out on stage. You see Cora dancing like she has all the fuel of the Energizer bunny. You see Landon clutching his bagpipes as if it were him on stage with the band performing every single song while a sea of people watch. At that moment, that’s not just you attending a festival. In that moment, no matter how seemingly small it may feel, you’re part of something bigger than just a simple festival. Every year when I look back at my personal experience at Scotfest, it is the small moments I remember the most; the small moments that leave the biggest impact.
How many small moments were lost to me in those early years because I was caught up in the grand scheme, the overwhelming gusto that is Scotfest? As an event, the numbers are important, the money is important, the feedback from the masses is important. Because those big numbers ensure the event will continue on into the years to come. But those aren’t the things I’m sharing with my family and friends when I recall the events of the weekend. I’m not recounting how I got a great photo of a band pulling some kids up on stage. Laughing about Tiffany rolling her eyes that her kids are badgering a staff member, anxiously trying to get permission to bring their instruments up on stage with Tobin and the guys. I’m nodding my head agreeing that it’s totally unacceptable Leo hijacked a golf cart while secretly loving that he thinks he’s one of the top dogs because he got to drive around in a golf cart he may or may not have had permission to take. Like kids on Christmas morning, their eyes are bright with hope and joy. They can’t wait to experience that larger than life moment of being on stage or just experiencing the weekend with people they admire and call friends.
I’ve gone through my photo galleries from previous years and was surprised I have so many pictures of Tiffany’s family. Couldn’t remember taking those photos because at the time I wasn’t seeing the people, the moment in front of me. Not truly. I was seeing the basics. Here is a family, in kilts, with toy instruments, enjoying the festival. That’ll be good for social media and my portfolio. Get the shot, move on, find the next one. Rinse and repeat. A means to an end.
I fell in love with Scotfest from the moment I stepped through the gates that first year I attended. It was a selfish love. But it has grown into a dedicated love. Somewhere along the line my goals shifted from, “How can Scotfest help me achieve my goals?” to “How can I help grow this festival with the skills I can provide?” I had no way of knowing just how much a random festival would impact my life. As crazy as it may sound, Scotfest has changed not only my life but me as an individual.
In 2021, I realized I am just one person. The goals I have for the festival have outgrown my original, selfish intentions. It was just me and one other photographer, Amira Jacobson. Both she and I felt like we were in way over our heads. So, I approached members of the board throughout the event and told them I needed a team, a team of at least five but even now I question if that’s enough. They asked if I was ready to take on a leadership role and I agreed. I wanted to build a team. I needed a team. Scotfest has grown to a scale that can’t be captured by just myself and one other photographer. Perhaps it had always been too much but I was blinded by my own selfish goals and it wasn’t until that year, 2021, with the knowledge that we’d be bringing in Graham McTavish the next year, that I realized I would never even begin to meet my own expectations.
People tell you to look for inspiration everywhere. As a writer, don’t just read books- go out and look for inspiring experiences, go people watch at a coffee shop. As a photographer, don’t just look at pretty photography online, go to a museum or a park. Leave the pen or camera at home. But sometimes, inspiration is right under our noses. Sometimes, we don’t have to look any further than a simple Facebook post.
Tiffany:
“Every year, we get comments about Scotfest. ‘Why do you always have to go?’ ‘Scotfest isn’t that important.’ ‘You should just save your money instead.’ etc etc. For the last 10 years we hear that from one person or another and we just have to ignore them. Scotfest isn’t just a Scottish festival. Like a giant family reunion full of family and friends that we dearly love. It’s the place that first sparked the love of music in Leo. It’s the place where all of our kids grew up – meeting new friends, learning to love and appreciate their heritage, music, and new friendships. We’ve had deep heart to heart talks with friends in the hotel lobby until 1am. We’ve watched our kids rock out on stage with the bands. Danced and laughed and loved together as a family year after year. We’ve had hard talks with good friends, unforgettable memories, hugs that warm you all the way to your bones… Scotfest isn’t just a festival. It’s something so much more for us. So here’s to 10 years of incredible Scotfest memories, and many more to come.”
Imagine attending an event for ten years; but when you picture it, don’t think of the overwhelming passage of time, think of seeing ten years of Leo with his drum, Landon with his bagpipes, Cora with her red cheeks from hours of dancing. Imagine watching your children grow from tiny babies to toddlers to pre-teens. What will another ten years look like? Can you picture those kids as adults, on the stage, not as little kids pretending they’re the main act, but as the band coming back to where it all started? I can. I see the future of Scotfest in these kids- those little humans I originally couldn’t pick out in a line-up- this family, and countless others just like them.
When I mentioned to board members I wanted to ask Tiffany to join my future team, I was told she would most likely say no because her family’s experience at the festival is too important. And who can blame her? We’ve watched her kids grow up with Scotfest as a backdrop. Why would she give up something so precious? But I knew I needed Tiffany on my team. When I asked her to join as an official member, I made a promise. I promised her I would ensure she would still enjoy the festival like she has for years: with Liam, with their kids, watching them grow and experiencing things they would talk about for years to come, memories they’re sure to share one day with their own children. It is a promise I will never break. Because that is what Scotfest is about. It’s not just an event. Not about the crowds or the numbers or the money. It’s about people like Tiffany and Liam and Leo and Cora and Landon.
Tiffany agreed. Though, in that moment back in 2021, standing behind the ScotRock main stage in that stifling Oklahoma heat, I could tell she was apprehensive. I could see the thoughts running through her head, though she didn’t voice them outloud: “Am I taking on too much? Am I committing to something I’m going to regret? Are they going to ask me to photograph events that might pull me away from seeing my kids enjoy the festival?”
As much as I love seeing Tiffany’s kids enjoying Scotfest, I know Tiffany cherishes these moments in a way I will never fully understand. As much as I love having Tiffany as a support system and a fellow photographer and friend, I will never accede my promise.
My first year volunteering at Scotfest, I remember parking my car, grabbing that volunteer print off from where it sat on my dashboard, staring at it, and asking myself: is this worth it? Is it worth the stress and anxiety causing my hands to shake? I sat in my car debating on if I was good enough. Sat there debating if I should even try. The introvert in me wanted to turn my car back around, drive home, and call it quits before I had the chance to fail. I was sure I wouldn’t make friends. Would be too weird, too quiet. I wouldn’t know how to connect to anyone. They would hate my photos. They would think I was a fraud. If only past me knew where I would find myself seven years later. To only know then what I know now. If only I knew the family and love I would find even amongst all the trials and difficulties, To have known when I saw Tiffany with her more expensive and better quality camera equipment that she wasn’t competition. If only I had seen her kids as not just any other tiny humans running around and screaming with excitement but seen them as the amazing humans they are. “If only…” those are the words of regret which can consume a person. But when I look back on my own experience with Scotfest through the years; through a lens, I cannot regret a single moment. Even through the blood, sweat, and tears- there is not one regret. Because I love Scotfest. Scotfest is not just an event; it’s home.
In Loving Memory of Tiffany’s father, Bob Sponseller