Why, Why, WPPI? | Personal Reflection

Sometimes, I wish deep down inside that I was the cool kid. Like Meg. The girl I knew in elementary school who was never without an invite to everyone's birthday parties and sleepovers. When me? I may have gotten one out of every five distributed in cute little cubby holes and stuck inside open desks.

Maybe it's because I was tall for my age. Or maybe it was the freckles. Or maybe it was just that I didn't go out of my way to make myself a likeable person by liking others very well.* I think I learned that lesson the first time in fourth grade when it dawned on me that I couldn't recall the last time I went out of my way to do something nice for people. And so, I made the decision to have a Halloween party and invite everyone in my class. Well, all of the girls at least. Boys, of course, still had cooties at this stage in their development.

And wouldn't you know it, they came. Even a clique of girls who kept me at arms-length from their lunch table came to my house for a boo-fest inspired by my need to be liked. To be cool. I mean, not that stringing spiderwebs across your house or hanging garbage bags from the tree out front is cool, but whatever. They came. They ate my party food, slept on my living room floor, and they even managed to (seem to) have a good time.

I find myself thinking about that same need-to-be-cool premise a lot now as a photographer. And more specifically, a portrait photographer, in an age where there are so many who have come before and so many yet to enter the scene.

Oh boy, I said it. The scene.

Yep. It's true. There's a photography scene. And it makes me quiver in my fourth-grade bike shorts and baggy sweatshirts all over again. Because in some circles, it's about image. And in others, it's about art. And even, strangely enough, there's the circle where all the cool-cat business-types congregate. And me? I just feel royally un-cool.

So when faced with the prospect of attending WPPI (only the biggest, most well-known annual come-together of professional photographers), I initally wanted nothing to do with it. Wouldn't touch the prospect with a ten-foot pole, because why would I, an un-cool kid, immerse myself in a world where I'm likely to be shocked and awed by everyone else to the point of self-loathing? It's self-esteem-suicide.

And then I woke up one day and asked a very important question: Or is it?

Because I guess, in that moment, I started looking at WPPI like that Halloween party. While sure, I'm not the one doing the inviting, someone important sometime ago made the decision that at this convention, the cool kids and the uncool kids and all of us inbetween would sleep and party on the proverbial floors of each other's lives for a couple of days. Everyone who wields a camera and makes some money from it (even if just occasionally) can pack their bags and come to Las Vegas for a couple of days of shock-and-awe. But even more importantly, they can come for community.

We are all, each and every one of us photographers, a part of something amazing. We do with our hands and eyes and hearts what a lot of people only dream of. And we've all got something to learn and gain from each other. WPPI, to me, represents the ultimate in bringing together everything that is fantastic about our industry. And now? I would love to go and not only see what all the cool kids are up to but to learn.

To embrace in its fullness all that is in store in the days ahead, whether I'm a "cool kid" or not. Because really, at this point in life, who cares? And isn't cool just relative term anyways?

So does that answer your question, Lawrence?

p.s. you can e-mail me here.

*Now that I think about it, maybe it was the bike shorts and baggy sweatshirts...