Journeys of the Mind

Ever since she left Costa Rica for Los Angeles with her family, Laura Ulloa has been on the move. At an age when most kids hardly know the world beyond their neighborhood, the Baldwin High sophomore has already walked through the gates of a dozen schools.

Like 12,000 other students in Los Angeles County, Laura is the child of migrant workers. From kindergarten on, she has endured an educational odyssey full of upheaval, one that has left little time for anything beyond the basic curriculum. But this summer, Laura has found a home in the Migrant Theater Project, an intensive monthlong program that immerses the children of itinerant workers in the performing arts.

Staffed by a group of professional educators and artists, the program provides students with daily workshops in acting, writing, dance, music and photography. Eighty-four high school kids--nearly all Latino--are enrolled in the project, which is sponsored by the federally funded Migrant Education Program and run by the 35-year-old California Youth Theater. The goal is to light the creative fires of children whose transitory circumstances often preclude any formal exposure to the arts.

“These are kids who are usually in the ESL programs,” says program director Dona Maria Guevara. “They’re not going to get any of the drama or music classes. . . . This opportunity is really exciting for them.”

The excitement has been heightened this summer by the dramatic focal point of the project--a new work by acclaimed young playwright Jose Rivera. Titled “Maricela de la Luz Lights the World,” the play is a fable set in a magically altered Los Angeles. Though the work has yet to be performed (it was commissioned last year by the Seattle Children’s Theater), Rivera agreed to let the migrant project mount a noncommercial production. The students’ work will culminate Thursday night with a lone production at the Duarte Performing Arts Center, where the workshops are held.

“For children, especially minority children, I think knowing what your options are is vitally important,” says Rivera, who wrote “The Street of the Sun,” which played the Taper this year. “Lots of kids feel that their options are nonexistent. I felt if I could just be a bus driver I would be very lucky.”

Rivera’s play itself is a mind-expanding saga about two kids who embark on a fantastical journey to try to lift a spell that’s been cast on Los Angeles. Along the way, they encounter a host of mythic characters, including Hercules, Orpheus and Xbalanque, a Mayan moon god. They also meet such whimsical creations as Ofelia, goddess of the L.A. River, who just happens to be an aspiring Latina actress.

To participate, students must come from families that move regularly in search of work. Most of the parents, many of whom are immigrants, toil in low-paying seasonal jobs in agriculture, fishing or lumber.

At 12, Miriam Nicet Gutierrez was helping her father pick cherries. Born in Los Angeles, she moved to San Diego, then to Tijuana and then back to L.A. as her father pursued work to support the family.

Raul Gonzalez came to Los Angeles from Mexico three years ago. One of 17 children, most of whom remain with his mother in Mexico, Raul went out to the strawberry fields with his father rather than to school during his first six months in the U.S.

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For kids like Miriam and Raul, both of whom now attend Lacerna High School in Whittier, the theater project opens up a world of possibilities. In the writing class, led by Guevara’s daughter Kristina, students read everything from Pablo Neruda to Alice Walker, then write stories and poems about their own lives.

Over in the percussion / music workshop, Desiree Adomou teaches dances and chants from his native Benin. Adorned in traditional African garb, a drum slung around his neck, Adomou beats out a steady rhythm as the kids circle around him and join in a call-and- response ritual.

In the photography / video workshop, filmmaker Juan Devis coaches a small group rehearsing a scene for a home movie made from photos. As two girls read the dialogue, he hands the microphone to Ramon Gonzalez, a wisecracking kid wearing black sunglasses, a Dodger cap and a shirt bearing the name and number of the Dodgers’ star outfielder Raul Mondesi.

“Try not to move your hand,” Devis instructs Ramon, whose banter gives way to concentration as the scene begins.

The project’s eclectic approach has clearly struck a chord with the students. Even in the dance and music classes, where one would expect the teachers to struggle with teenage self-consciousness, all the kids participate.

“The concept of youth theater is getting them involved in some kind of performance,” says Jack Nakano, founder and artistic director of the California Youth Theater, which runs several programs for at-risk youth. “Slowly we break down their inhibitions.”

Guevara acknowledges that there are some obstacles in working with students who have little or no performing experience. But the challenges, she says, are far outweighed by the rewards. “I love giving to these kinds of kids because they are so much more appreciative,” says Guevara, who taught high school theater for many years.

Adomou agrees. “I can see that hunger whenever they come to class,” he says. “I can read in their eyes how happy they are to learn.”

That hunger comes from an educational experience characterized largely by deprivation. Bill Horton, a specialist with L.A. County’s Migrant Education Program, says most migrant children attend three to five schools a year. Many are malnourished, and the majority--anywhere from 75% to 90%--never complete high school.

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For those who do stay in school, the Migrant Theater Project can be a pivotal experience. “It’s so rewarding to see the talent that blossoms from the young people with a little help,” says Elizabeth Cueva, a 21-year-old actress who’s working as a production assistant.

Though the program lasts only a month, the experience can inspire the students to explore their artistic inclinations. Laura’s sister, Adrianna, intends to try out for the Baldwin High dance team this year. Sofia Saldivar, a junior who immigrated three years ago from Jalisco, Mexico, wants to pursue dance as well as modeling.

“Being exposed to this is not necessarily a gateway to a career, but it gives them a form of self-expression,” Rivera says. “If they can know the healing power of art, then they’ll be better for it.”

Though his play is not about migrant families, Rivera believes that the story will resonate with the students. “I think they might identify with the feeling of being in a large, rather incomprehensible place. The kids in the play are in some way seeking home, seeking a niche.”