In one of America’s most iconic national parks, the scent of pine mingles with bleach. Yosemite National Park, famed for its towering granite cliffs and serene valleys, is facing a crisis not of fire or flood, but of labor. A critical shortage of custodial staff — driven by hiring delays under the Trump administration — has forced scientists, rangers, IT personnel, and even senior leadership to scrub campground bathrooms as the spring tourist season begins.
The development, confirmed by internal emails and firsthand accounts, lays bare the operational strain inside the National Park Service. As the park’s permanent employees brace for the influx of visitors, they’re being reassigned from ecological fieldwork, IT support, and interpretive duties to restroom sanitation — a makeshift solution rooted in both necessity and bureaucracy.
An internal email from acting Superintendent Stephanie Burkhart’s office outlines the scope of the reassignment. Five divisions — including Resource Management and Science, Commercial Services, and IT — are tasked with cleaning ten campground restroom facilities through early May. The order links the move directly to an Interior Department mandate emphasizing park accessibility, especially during peak seasons.
The scientists now wielding scrub brushes instead of specimen jars are not protesting the labor itself. What they are protesting — often anonymously, for fear of reprisal — is the systemic failure they say is choking the park’s ability to function. As one employee put it: “I’m not above cleaning a bathroom, but I’m sick of our leadership not pushing back on anything and just toeing the line.”
This sudden custodial conscription follows a chain reaction of staffing issues, exacerbated by a federal hiring freeze and bureaucratic bottlenecks under President Trump.
Though Yosemite leadership explored alternative solutions — contracting janitorial services, deploying volunteers, or reallocating seasonal staff — none could be enacted in time. Even portable toilets were deemed unacceptable for the visitor experience Yosemite promises.
Some saw this move as part of a broader pattern — one that skeptically targets the park’s educated workforce. “It seems to target the scientific community of the park service — the educated,” said Ken Yager, founder of the Yosemite Climbing Association. He fears morale is the real casualty here.
Yet amidst the discomfort, a strange solidarity has emerged. At a mandatory training session, about 40 employees from across the park gathered to learn the custodial ropes — from PPE to proper disinfectant ratios. Maintenance staff, often overlooked, found pride in demonstrating their expertise. And when it was revealed that even the acting superintendent would pull bathroom shifts, the mood reportedly shifted.
“At the end of the training, someone said, ‘I’m proud to be wearing the same uniform as everyone else here, and I’m proud to be your colleague.’ I found this inspiring,” one employee shared. It was a moment of unexpected unity, forged not in field studies or boardrooms, but beside campground latrines.
