Ever wondered how a language gets standardized? Two Boston educators are making history with their Cape Verdean Kriolu dictionary, inspired by Haitian success. It’s a journey of passion, culture, and a little bit of rebellion against colonial norms. Will their efforts finally elevate Kriolu to its rightful place?
In a groundbreaking endeavor to preserve and elevate the rich linguistic heritage of Cape Verde, two dedicated Boston-based educators are spearheading a monumental project: the **Cape Verdean Kriolu dictionary**. Manuel Da Luz Goncalves of Roxbury and Djofa Tavares of Dorchester have published the second edition of their comprehensive guide, aiming to standardize the language and make it accessible to a broader audience, particularly English speakers. This initiative is more than just academic; it represents a profound commitment to **cultural preservation** and identity.
The latest iteration of their **Kriolu dictionary** marks a significant advancement from their 2015 debut. While the first edition primarily assisted Kriolu speakers in learning English, this new volume is meticulously designed to facilitate English speakers’ acquisition of Cape Verde’s native tongue. This strategic shift underscores a broader vision for **language standardization**, ensuring Kriolu can thrive in both academic and everyday settings.
Boasting over 40,000 defined and translated words, the dictionary is a testament to years of arduous research. Da Luz Goncalves recounts the initial challenges, which necessitated numerous trips to Cabo Verde to study written materials, music, and oral traditions. His extensive research also included analyzing over 200 books on both **Haitian Kreyol** and Cape Verdean Kriolu, drawing crucial parallels and lessons from other successful language movements. This rigorous academic approach fortifies the dictionary’s authority and utility for **bilingual education Boston** and beyond.
The importance of this work is magnified by the historical context of Kriolu. Despite being the language predominantly spoken by most Cape Verdean residents across the islands, Portuguese remains the official language. This situation is further complicated by the diverse dialects across isolated islands and the deeply ingrained colonial legacy that once rendered Kriolu “taboo” in schools and official discourse. This historical oppression has had lasting effects, influencing some Cape Verdean families in Dorchester to view Kriolu with skepticism.
For 76-year-old Manuel Da Luz Goncalves, a former guidance counselor specializing in bilingual education at Madison Park Technical Vocational High School, this project is a decades-long labor of love. Witnessing the absence of Kriolu educational materials for waves of Cape Verdean students arriving in Boston fueled his resolve. He recalls his mother’s initial doubt (“For what?”) but ultimately her blessing, which solidified his commitment to creating something profoundly impactful for the country and its diaspora.
A significant inspiration for their methodology came from the successful efforts in Haiti during the 1980s, which saw Kreyol elevated to an official language alongside French. Da Luz Goncalves immersed himself in the study of Haitian Kreyol, attending workshops at Indiana University and traveling to Haiti multiple times. This foundational understanding of another creole language’s journey toward recognition provided a powerful blueprint for their Cape Verdean Kriolu project, demonstrating the feasibility of such ambitious linguistic goals.
Djofa Tavares, a Dorchester resident and science teacher at the Russell Elementary School, plays a pivotal role in this initiative. As Da Luz Goncalves’s niece, she not only assisted in compiling the dictionary but actively utilizes it in her work teaching Kriolu to both children and adults. Her contributions extend to authoring the first English-Kriolu children’s book, “Tiagu Y Vovo,” published in 2023, and collaborating with a friend to establish a greeting card company featuring Kriolu phrases, further demonstrating the practical application and growing demand for the standardized language.
For Tavares, “language is the soul of our culture,” a sentiment echoed by a growing number of Cape Verdeans who are actively reconnecting with their native tongue. The dictionary serves as a crucial bridge, allowing individuals to “see the words” and embark on a “pilgrimage” back to their linguistic roots. This resurgence of interest highlights a powerful movement towards reclaiming identity through language, challenging decades of historical suppression and fostering a renewed sense of cultural pride.
Despite the dictionary’s immense success and growing acceptance within the diaspora, the battle for official recognition and promotion of Kriolu in Cabo Verde itself continues. Da Luz Goncalves notes that while some politicians verbally support Kriolu, viewing it as a “secret language,” they often resist actively promoting it due to lingering “colonial understanding.” Thus, the struggle persists, but the Cape Verdean Kriolu dictionary stands as a beacon of hope, driving a vital movement for linguistic and cultural autonomy.
