Left Behind ëVoces y Vistasí Offers Perspective of Salvadoran Migrantsí Children by Fresia RodrÌguez Cadavid The global phenomenon of migration can be explained and understood politically, historically or commercially. Often the sentimentality and emotions surrounding migration are ignored or not discussed. A new black-and-white photography exhibit at the Consulate of El Salvador is designed to break that silence and give those affected most by migration a powerful voice through art. ìVoces y Vistas: NiÒos de la Diaspora SalvadoreÒa (Voices and Sights: Children of the Salvadoran Diaspora)î takes a look at migration through the eyes of more than a dozen children who have been left in the care of another family member when a parent traveled to North America to seek better work opportunities. Realized in the canton of El Tamarindo, La Union, in El Salvador last year, the programís goal was to equip 13 children with a camera and have them document the effects migration have had on their daily lives, according to program director and creator Heather Bradley, an undergraduate student at the George Washington University. The end result was a somber reflection on the stark, undeniable intuition of child photograph ers, with each picture revealing an original and fresh perspective on migration. Eight-year-old Yonathan took a photo of his elderly grandfather calling the United States to speak to his son, Yonathanís father. Next to the photo is the young boyís handwritten caption explaining that he took the picture because his father is in the United States. According to Bradley, such an acknowledgment shows the circular and multigenerational effect of migration. The handwritten descriptions that accompany the photographs give them an even more intimate, authentic impact. Nine-year-old Evelin, who is being cared for by her grandmother because her mother and aunt have both migrated north, photographed a footprint with the thought that it could belong to a migrant. This childís insight parallels the concerns of many U.S. academics and immigration advocates that the trail of the migrant is unknown and could be unsafe. The contribution of Evelinís 10-year-old cousin, Xiomara, who also lives with her, is equally moving. In one photograph, Xiomara captures their elderly grandmother lying on a hammock. You can see the womanís tired eyes and frail body. Such a depiction reveals a reality that is becoming more and more popular in Latin America: Many aging grandparents are taking responsibility for their young grandchildren as their children travel north for better opportunities. Eleven-year-old Miguel confesses that he remembers his father, who migrated to the United States, by photographing various objects. In one photo, he captures the image of a bicycle helmet with the U.S. flag embossed on it as it hangs on the branches of a tree. In an accompanying photo, the fishing cord that his father used lies alone on a lawn chair. The solitude of the objects is unavoidable and comes through powerfully in the pair of photos. One is left to wonder if Miguel feels as if he is the helmet or fishing cord, alone in his country without a father. The exhibit, through its bareness, not only offers viewers insight into the perspectives of children, it also connects viewers to the plight of these childrenís parents in the United States. One wonders if the families will ever be reunited. To support loved ones back home, Salvadorans send home record levels of remittances. Knowing this, the reality emerges that migration is not a selfish issue, but a necessity to offer children left behind opportunities the parents did not have when they were young. Through observing the photographs, one cannot deny that these children remain connected to their parents despite the distance between them. However, the exhibit has a deeper dimension. It reveals the childrenís surprising consciousness toward their parentsí lives in their new adopted country. This shines through in 12-year-old Darwinís photograph of a man at a construction area. Many Salvadoran immigrants work in construction, where workers encounter dangerous conditions with few benefits. Though unsafe, one wonders if that is the fate awaiting Darwin when he tries to make a living for his future children. ìVoces y Vistas: NiÒos de la Diaspora SalvadoreÒa (Voices and Sights: Children of the Salvadoran Diaspora)î runs through June 17 at the Consulate of El Salvador, 1724 20th St., NW. For more information, please contact the consulate at (202) 331-4032. Fresia Rodriguez Cadavid is a freelance writer in Washington, D.C.