By Jon Farmer
I’ve been thinking a lot about traditions since the birth of our son in December. Traditions can bring comfort and meaning to our lives. They make magic, create anticipation, and spark joy as well as help to structure connections and make gatherings predictable. My son is still working on his list of firsts and he is helping me realize that every first has the potential to be the start of a tradition.

I’m probably playing a little loose with the definition of tradition. Really, I’m talking about those regular happenings and habits that become ‘that thing we do’ or that let us say ‘I’m that kind of person’. For me traditions are equal parts repetition and enjoyment. They create a magic that deepens over time. In my life, Summerfolk is one of the best examples of that sort of tradition.
I started to volunteer at Summerfolk the summer between grade eight and grade nine to get my mandatory volunteer hours for high school. That was almost twenty years ago and I haven’t missed a Summerfolk since.

I didn’t know that I was starting a tradition my first summer but it was so much fun that I kept going back; even when I was living in BC for university. I didn’t want to break my streak or miss the things I loved like seeing old friends, late night dance parties, campfire jams, or singing the Mary Ellen Carter with hundreds of other people in the amphitheatre at the close of the weekend.

There’s a lot of fodder for tradition-making at music festivals and I’ve been daydreaming about what my son will latch on to. Some families make a point to always join the children’s parade on Sunday afternoon. Other families start their holiday shopping by browsing the artisan craft vendors. Friends of ours always have an afternoon picnic under the trees by the amphitheatre and I’m sure we’ll join them this year, maybe after a swim.

Summerfolk thrives on traditions. There are some volunteer teams staffed entirely by extended families. There are people who camp out at the front gate in their chairs to make sure they get the first pick of seats in the amphitheatre when the gates open. There are people who give weekend passes as perennial stocking stuffers. The artistic director has made the spiral angel wing chips from All Smoked Up a personal tradition. There are even couples who found love at Summerfolk and mark the festival as their anniversary.

The music itself can also plant the seeds of tradition as folks find albums and artists who grow into lifelong favourites. Those songs, artists and albums become parts of traditions that extend beyond the festival itself. They work their way into the standards that we play around campfires, slip into the playlists for important life moments, or become the songs that our families start singing randomly.

Steve Poltz’s Fistfight at a Vegan Brunch has reached that latter status in our house. My partner and I listened to Danny Michel’s song Perfect as we drove to pick up the keys to our first home. William Prince’s song Earthly Days was the first dance at our friends’ wedding.

There are already songs that I find myself singing to soothe my son that I learned at Summerfolk or found on albums from artists I saw at the festival. These will be the songs that my son grows up with – the sonic backdrop to his sense of home and family. It’s the same way that the albums I picked up as a teenager set the backdrop for high school road trips, romances, and parties with friends.

That’s one of the special things about traditions: they’re sweet because they’re personal. Kind of like decorating your own cupcake. The tradition is the icing on the cake and in this case, the cake is Summerfolk.

If you’ve never been to the festival, then this could be your year to cook up a Summerfolk tradition. There’s magic in the festival and I’m sure you’ll find ways to make it your own. Visit www.summerfolk.org for all the info you need to volunteer, buy tickets, or learn more.
Jon Farmer is a long-time Summerfolk volunteer. He lives in Owen Sound.