A watercolor of the two-story Victorian home where I live with my best friend. The home is light yellow with turquoise trim. A Crab Apple Tree and rain barrel sit against the house, and two raised beds sit in the front yard.

Welcome to Hollerin’ Up! I’m Erin.

I was raised in Louisville, Kentucky where I currently live with my dog and queer family in a big turquoise house. I grew up with a love for big shared meals with family, music sung in fellowship, pies made from fruits and veggies in the garden, and a close relationship to the earth. My work is rooted in fighting for a world where everyone can access these simple pleasures no matter who they are. 

A portrait of me smiling off camera wearing a forest green turtle neck tank top, chunky green earrings, and pink glasses in my blonde hair. Photo by Natosha Via. 

From co-founding Sunrise Movement and helping pass the largest climate legislation in US history, to coaching frontline organizers to build up their financial strategy and staying power, to advising donors on the leading political strategies of the moment, I lead with both precision and heart. I am a long-haul movement builder — someone who can build a fundraising spreadsheet in one hand and conjure just the right movement song in the other. My support offers something different: a way to take seriously the work of building a freer world without leaving behind the self, the land, or our communities.

A closeup of my mom’s white hand lightly touching vibrant green moss on a dead tree in Pisgah National Forest in North Carolina. Photo by me.

I bring over a decade of experience in multi-entity fundraising strategy, management, team culture, and organizational flow to my clients. Together, we will build power outside the bounds of status-quo philanthropy and party politics. My approach blends data and story, structure and intuition, spreadsheets and sacredness. I work as a coach, strategist, and facilitator, helping teams stitch together clarity, confidence, and self-sufficiency so they can grow without burning out. 

A portrait of me sitting back with my legs over the side of a large black chair. I’m wearing a long sleeve collared white shirt and white cowboy boots. Photo by Natosha Via.

Whether you're navigating a leadership transition, launching a new donor strategy, or finally stepping back to plan for sustainability, I bring long-haul vision, people-first process, and a whole lot of Southern tenderness to the table.

A watercolor of the two-story Victorian home where I live with my chosen family. The home is light yellow with turquoise trim. A Crab Apple Tree and rain barrel sit against the house, and two raised beds sit in the front yard. Painting by my amazing badass mama, Alice Bridges

A portrait of me smiling off camera wearing a forest green turtle neck tank top, chunky green earrings, and pink glasses. Photo by Natosha Via

A closeup of my mom’s white hand lightly touching vibrant green moss on a dead tree in Pisgah National Forest in North Carolina. Photo by me.

A portrait of me sitting back in a large black chair. I’m wearing a long sleeve collared white shirt and white cowboy boots. Photo by Natosha Via

“I’m not afraid of love or its consequence of light.”

Joy Harjo, The Creation Story

Communities of practice ground me in my work:

  • I am a member of the Momentum Community and the Solidaire Network

  • I am a regular meditator and Dharma practitioner with Radical Change and the Southern Dharma Retreat Center, and am a graduate of Norma Wong and Collective Acceleration’s 8-month course on the Art of War. 

  • I am a member of the Mourning Choir, a Louisville-based community choir founded in October 2023 in response to the unprecedented siege on Gaza. We bring songs to vigils, public grief spaces, and protests. 

In every setting—from a campaign debrief to a candlelit circle—I bring care, rigor, and an unwavering belief that soulful practice matters.

Me and a fellow Kentucky protester lead a chant at a cold, blustery rally with Sunrise Movement outside Congress. Photo by Rachel Warriner.

Me and a fellow Kentucky protester lead a chant at a cold, blustery rally with Sunrise Movement outside Congress. Photo by Rachael Warriner.

What I’m Reading

The Seven Necessary Sins for Women and Girls, by Mona Eltahawy.

“What would the world look like if girls were taught they were volcanoes, whose eruptions were a thing of beauty, a power to behold and a force not to be trifled with? What if instead of breaking their wildness like a rancher tames a bronco, we taught girls the importance and power of being dangerous?” 

A picture of me bundled up by a fire reading on a beach at Deam Lake on winter solstice. The sky is full of clouds embossed over a bright blue sky. Photo by Al Herring.

A picture of me bundled up by a fire reading on a beach at Deam Lake on winter solstice. The sky is full of clouds embossed over a bright blue sky. Photo by Al Herring. 

“Flowering Jasmine” by Sumana, the first free women, translated by Matty Weingast.

“Walk through the mind all day and all night. When you find each thought ending right where it began—here your circling ends.”

“Appalachia the Borderland” by Veronica Limeberry, Dissembling the Split Rail, Vol. 2 No.2 Mergoat Magazine.

“Being of the border, existing in-between, beyond, and against, necessitates resistance.” 

Survival Is a Promise: The Eternal Life of Audre Lorde, by Alexis Pauline Gumbs.

“Audre is overwhelmed by the sands of time. Ancestor Audre knows the desert is an ocean.”

In My Headphones ✨

  • Gold, Cleo Sol, because sometimes you need Cleo to tell you to stop crying 

  • Buckle Bunny, Tanner Addell, because we all need to holler ‘rhinestone hat says ken-tuck-ee, I’m a buckle bunny’ from time to time 

  • I’m Alright, Jo Dee Messina, because where would we be without 90s country women icons singin’ us through life’s highs and lows 

  • All Things Light, Cam, simply because the harmonies go crazy 

  • Vulture Prince, Arooj Aftab, because some grief needs a soundtrack as wide as the sky, also Free Palestine

A black and white portrait of me dancing outside. Photo by Natosha Via.

A black and white portrait of me dancing outside. Photo by Natosha Via.