From Chicago J1 to summer camp: why I'm a camp convert

From the bright lights of Chicago to the campfires of Pennsylvania, Kiera shares how she learnt more about bougie skincare products from a bunch of preteens in the Pocono Mountains than she did in the big city.

I did my J1 in Chicago – solo, spontaneous, and armed with a suitcase I overpacked like I was moving there permanently. Living in Chicago genuinely felt like being in a movie – I worked as a host at Margaritaville on Navy Pier, soaked up the skyline, got into Lollapalooza for free, and even went to a baseball game (which, turns out, is the longest and most boring sport ever – but the pics were cute). There were so many Irish people around, at times it felt like I’d just moved counties, not continents – but with better weather and more fireworks.

The call from the wild

But honestly, city life can be super lonely when you’re a solo traveller. It can feel like everyone else has their people, their plans, and their apartments with dishwashers. That’s why camp hit different. Most people go solo, and everyone’s in the same boat – excited, nervous, jet-lagged, and figuring it out together. And it doesn’t hurt that camp is way cheaper – no extortionate rent, no $25 sad salads, and all the s’mores you can eat.

I spent two summers at Camp Lindenmere in the Pocono Mountains, Pennsylvania – first as a rock shop instructor (yes, literally Camp Rock) and then as events coordinator. Both times, I was a bunk counsellor – meaning I lived with a cabin of preteens who did more nightly skincare than I do (we’re talking bougie products) and asked deep, philosophical questions like, “Is your uncle a leprechaun?”

No regrets, no explanation

Camp life is a whirlwind. It’s a 7:45am wake-up, chasing kids who’ve mysteriously disappeared from their scheduled activities only to be found absolutely thriving in the gaga pit (sadly not a Lady Gaga-themed pit – I checked). I still don’t fully understand the rules – except that it involves kids aggressively slapping a ball at each other with pure joy. You lose your voice leading chants that make no sense but somehow become your entire personality. On your night off, you end up in Walmart just for some peace and fluorescent-lit quiet. And yes, one time I dressed up as Pitbull and used a money gun on stage in front of the entire camp. No regrets, but also no explanation.

But I’d do it all again – because nothing beats the bond you build with your bunk. My girls made me laugh every single day, taught me patience (and TikTok dances), and turned a random log cabin in Pennsylvania into a place that genuinely felt like home.

If Kiera's time at camp makes you want to pack up and head for the woods, then check out our Summer Camp USA program, now on our BUNAC site - same team, same awesome program, new name.