Life in a Box : Grant Students Examine Themselves in Artistic Autobiographies

The last time Vicki Beltran put her life into a box was three years ago, when the teen-ager and her family packed their belongings to flee strife-torn El Salvador for the United States.

The 17-year-old has again, so to speak, put her life in a box. This time the objects are symbolic--like the burgundy rose petals signifying her love of nature, or a tiny golden bell representing a favorite teacher from her homeland. The outspoken instructor was slain by the military.

“She was a brave woman, and I loved her,” Vicki said. “One day, the army came, because she had strong beliefs in our human rights, and they killed her. I’ll never forget her.”

The box is one of dozens on display as part of “Visions of Life,” an exhibit at Cal State Northridge put on by art students at Ulysses S. Grant High School in Van Nuys. On Wednesday, the young artists viewed their work for the first time in CSUN’s North Gallery, the stark white walls covered with their colorful creations.

The display by the 65 juniors, which ends today, was mounted by Grant art teacher Tamara Watson as part of her master’s thesis in art education at CSUN. Challenged by Watson to “look at themselves, where they’ve been, why they think the way they do,” the students--nearly all of them recent immigrants--decorated boxes with symbolic images of their lives.

On the lid of each box is a plaster cast of the artist’s face--their exterior selves. But inside the boxes are assemblages of seemingly ordinary objects, from teddy bears to lipstick to a padlock.

Many of the creations bespeak happiness. But there are also works like Vicki’s, with images of sadness and pain--even death.

“What really grabbed us is how many kids have had a close encounter with death,” said Sandy Okura, an English teacher who helped students write the descriptions that accompany each assemblage.

Inside Albert Andrade’s box is a drawing of a tombstone saluting a friend who was killed in a gang shooting. “Little Boy, Man’s Heart,” wrote Albert as an epitaph for a youth he described as feisty, loyal and compassionate.

“This guy was like my little brother,” said Albert, 17. “What happened to him should never have happened.”

For Luis Garcia, 16, seared indelibly on his mind is his father’s desertion of the family when Luis was a toddler growing up in Guatemala City.

In the corner of Luis’ box--painted blue and yellow in honor of the Los Angeles Rams--a door swings aside to reveal a picture of Iraqi leader Saddam Hussein, snipped from a magazine.

“The door means that, when I was 1 year old, my dad left me,” Luis said. “And Saddam Hussein is a bad man, and I think my dad is a bad man.”

The youth said he and his brother were raised by their mother with the help of her parents. Black and white photographs of the three adults adorn the box, with Luis’ grandfather in the center.

“You always need a father to help you fix something, like a bicycle,” Luis said. “He showed me how to do it. He’s more like my dad.”

But amid the tragedies remembered Wednesday, vibrant life peeks through, even in the most unlikely of forms.

Tucked in a corner of Rorie de Rosales’ box is an open clam shell containing a small, round, metal object the 17-year-old calls the source of her “second life.”

“It’s the battery for my hearing aid,” explained Rorie, as proud fellow students snapped photos of each other with their creations. “Without it, I wouldn’t hear all the normal sounds. It’s the most important thing in my life.”