What drew you towards your field and work?
The simultaneous presence and absence of Latinxs drew me to Latinx studies. Latinxs—in particular, people of Mexican descent—were omnipresent when I was growing up in Southern California’s San Gabriel Valley in the 1970s and ‘80s. For example, almost all the students in the schools I attended were of Mexican origin. When I got to college, however, I was told that I was a member of a minority group. There were relatively few Latinxs in my classrooms and even fewer on my syllabi. I didn't read any literary works by Latinxs, with the exception of Richard Rodriguez’s Hunger of Memory, in any of the courses I was required to take as an English major. So I gravitated to Chicano studies to learn more about a community that I knew was integral to the past, present, and future of the United States, but that was actively marginalized and virtually ignored.  

What is a challenge that you encountered in your teaching academic career and how have you addressed it?
Misperceptions of and misunderstandings about Latinx studies, a vast, diverse, and dynamic interdisciplinary field, abound. Because Latinx studies isn’t a traditional discipline, and because of a deeply ingrained and enduring prejudice in the United States that paints Latinxs as inferior, I’ve encountered people, including some colleagues and administrators, who insist that standards in Latinx studies are laxer than those of traditional disciplines. I’ve also encountered people who dismiss Latinx studies as a politically correct fad that's sure to fade away in due time. The growing body of rigorous scholarship that makes up Latinx studies, and our growing enrollments, rebut these false claims.

What advice do you have for graduate students in your field?
I have two bits of advice for graduate students in Latinx studies: First, stay curious. Take a variety of courses. Attend lectures, even by scholars who may not necessarily share the same research interests as you; sometimes we find inspiration in unexpected places and encounters. Go to and share your work at conferences if you can. Join (or start) a writing and/or a reading group. And read, read, and read some more. Our time is precious, and we must protect it—saying no to one thing allows us to say yes to something else. Yet, to grow intellectually and professionally, we must remain open to new ideas and approaches, we must make time for exchanges with others, and we must read constantly.

My second bit of advice is to be generous. Until you write your own book and have it published, don’t trash a book. Instead, focus on what that book does well and what it might have done differently. And while we should be paid for our labor, keep in mind that some of the most inspiring and gratifying activities—for example, attending a job talk by a prospective new faculty member or reading a classmate’s draft—usually aren’t compensated with money. Rather, those sorts of activities count on and build collegiality, an essential component of a healthy working environment and a rewarding career in academia.

What is the most rewarding aspect of your work?
I recently attended the 5th Biennial Latinx Literary Criticism and Theory conference and was reminded how exciting and innovative work by up-and-coming scholars—in particular, graduate students and newly-minted PhDs—is. I was also excited and impressed by the labor and dedication our colleagues at the CUNY Graduate Center put into hosting this conference. The community of scholars they’ve nurtured over the years is affirming, inspiring, and supportive.  

What projects are you working on at this moment?
As chair of UCSC’s Latin American and Latino Studies Department, I’m working on getting my colleagues and our students the resources we need and deserve to flourish. Inspired by the 20th anniversary of the introduction of the DREAM Act in the US Congress in 2001, I’m also working on a project on migration narratives and temporality, with a focus on the figure of the child migrant and what I call undocutime, the prolonged waiting, permanent temporariness, enforced presentism, devaluation of the time, and persistent patience of the undocumented.