Below, my academic advisor describes a moment where she saw me at my best. 

SPN 125: Spanish for Heritage Speakers. The students are exploring the complex nature of their bicultural identities, in a language that has been practically educated out of them, Spanish. They are considering “el arte de ser bilingüe” with a notable emphasis on “ser bilingüe,” “el arte” the more abstract term. The pragmatic application of our bilingual “cultural capital” is an obvious starting point: many students report their intimate histories of translating from English to Spanish-Spanish to English for relatives. Translating at the bank, the doctor’s office, and the college counselor’s office. Yes, it is true; “ser bilingüe” for many Latinas has often meant instrumentalizing their bilingual identities, putting them to the service—in the name of love, duty, obligation, sheer tenacity—of others. It is the rare one who ventures out, who takes seriously the notion of “el arte.” The self as art, creation, inspiration, and poetry, that self is the riskier one. Where is the pragmatism, the utility, one daresay even the humility, of such a notion? At her best, Erika chooses “el arte.”

Erika has a keen instinct for the poetic, the serendipitous, the inspirational, and a profound faith in the deeper, sometimes unexpected, meaning of things. This poetic instinct is often visible in the topics of her essays, in the subjects of her photographs and the heroines of her stories. At her best, Erika seeks out the hidden text, the marginal story, the quiet subject, and centers them, demanding that we look, listen, and feel. Whether it is the resisting voices in the barracones, the Bolivian wife—and secret head of the household—or the hunger striker’s daughter, Erika is drawn to them and follows her instinct. The results are more often than not breathtaking, stunning, revelatory. At her best Erika reveals poetic truths about human experience and potential because she is willing to take a risk, to trust that there is something meaningful and inspirational where others have not perceived much, if anything. This capacity to take a risk on the poetic, creative and inspirational possibilities of life and to make meaning, communicate it to others and, in turn, inspire us to follow is a defining characteristic of Erika. At her best she trusts that there is resistance beneath the surface, strength behind the peasant skirt, revolution in the children’s mural, and she dares us to do the same.

                                                                                                        -Michelle Joffroy