This summer, I’m making the case for making memories, not coffee runs, for s’mores, not spreadsheets. My time at the Lair has shaped me in ways I didn’t expect, flipping success on its head and setting me on a path I can actually see. And it’s not just me—other staffers feel it too, our changes small but electric, like sparks catching on the breeze.
Is the twenty-year-old fetching coffee in “Corporate America” more impressive than the one who labored, taught, and inspired? Is the girl behind the computer—half online shopping, half nodding through a team meeting—better prepared for success than the one who managed group dynamics, juggled competing responsibilities, and learned to laugh while scrubbing burnt oatmeal out of a pot?
Deciding to work at the Lair of the Golden Bear is not a reckless act of rebellion, nor a polite excuse to procrastinate adulthood. It’s something more profound and more interesting. It’s a belief that a golden summer in the mountains can teach you more than a hundred LinkedIn-worthy bullet points ever will.
Dedicating your time toward a corporate line on a resume? Sure, that’s logical. But is it wise? Holistically speaking, the experience of engaging in a specialized internship might be far less rich—and far less useful—than a season spent in the dirt, the trees, and the compelling chaos of camp.
At the Lair, you learn to multitask like a chef (project management), communicate like a camp counselor, (customer satisfaction), and bring people together like the staffer yelling “campfire” before a show (leadership and effective negotiation). You learn to perform under pressure while maintaining high standards, and create joy in difficult, sleep-deprived situations. You learn how to read a room, how to influence others, how to shine a flashlight on the beauty around you, and how to make everything, even taking out the trash, fun.
You learn that mastering fundamental skills, even less glamorous ones, is crucial for excelling in more complex roles — a lesson echoed by Lair student staffers like Josh Gallo, who shared, “I learned to not be above basic manual labor tasks,” Josh Gallo shared. “At the Lair, everybody’s cleaning a toilet.”
You learn how to collaborate, and that collaboration is key to success. “People want me to share my ideas,” Phoebe Salisbury realized. Julia Ginsburg spoke of the flip side—the importance of taking in the visions of others and letting them shape what’s yours. “I learned to take into account other people’s creative ideas,” she said.
You learn the bigness of the stars and the smallness of your problems. And that it’s up to each of us to make our own mind a good place to hang out: string some lights, play some music, put up a few posters.
Sure, internships promise clear career paths and professional polish. They nudge you forward. But here’s the thing: internships can wait. Camp can’t. And while internships offer neat, measurable steps forward, the progress you make at the Lair is harder to quantify under the fluorescent lights of careerist thinking. It’s more like a skip than a step.
Lair staffers immerse themselves in a one-of-a-kind culture, gaining a wealth of self-knowledge in the process. They shake themselves open to connections with people they never expected to love, and they cultivate crucial soft skills that the professional world is always craving.
“Staffing has pushed me to realize my full potential,” Ellie Connor said, “not only in terms of hard work but also creatively.” After her first summer at the Lair, she discovered she could do so much more than she ever thought. Now, she’s counting down the days until she can return to camp for another year, another lap around the Sun.
“I wanted to do it because I wanted to take the opportunity to grow who I am,” Gavin Pola explained. “I was very motivated and I wanted to do lots of things, but to me, you have the rest of your life to be an adult.”
Nate Saxton agrees: “These years form us forever and taking advantage of growing socially will teach you more than any job ever can. We’re still so young and we’re such big sponges.”
Lair staffers don’t just strive for professional stability, they aim higher. They reach toward the best version of themselves, the version that helps others realize their full potential. They’re playing the long game: happier humans, healthier relationships, a better world.
“The most important thing I’ve learned is how much of life is quality of life,” Samantha Game told me. She spoke of a shift in her nervous system, shaped by days spent outside. Her mind cleared, her anxiety softened. “It has shaped dramatically how I am going to build my life going forward,” she said about her time at the Lair. Gamer refuses to let the ordinary fade into the dull or the unremarkable. Each day demands beauty, each moment fulfillment.
It’s the Lair that plants this quiet insistence—a resolve to never settle for less, that is woven into the fabric of its community. It’s the kind of place that gets under your skin in this way, makes you realize that letting life’s light dim isn’t a choice; it’s something you simply can’t do once you know better.
For me, giving three summers to the Lair was the greatest personal and professional gift I’ve ever given myself. The experience included grit, a wide range of practical competencies, a sharpened self-awareness, and a lived understanding of what matters most. I found stories for dinner parties, best friends, a knack for cutting two boxes of cherry tomatoes in under ten minutes; a love of music and cooking; and a more assertive sense of purpose.
My time on staff has been a miraculously well-written coming-of-age story. It has redefined my idea of success. Success isn’t just academic achievements or job placements. It’s also the ability to gracefully navigate the human experience, thoughtfully respond to the world, and get close to people along the way.
When I picture my career now, I see it stretching out like a dusty camp trail—sunlit, winding, and full of who-knows-what. It’s bound to bring a buzz around every bend. I’m excited to skip down that trail.
So, this summer, drive up to Pinecrest. Don’t shove all the awesome, bright, alive parts of you behind a desk. Let them out. Let them dance under the Sierra Nevada pines.
Apply to work as a summer Lair Staffer.
