Words, beyond their declarative or descriptive formats, also carry a performative character – they serve not only to report what is done but also to do it (Austin, 1962). In this sense, it is through the words that compose everyday interactions that society can be outlined and reinvented.

In a time when processes of neoliberalization are exacerbating the subordination of more vulnerable groups, pushingthem to the margins, it becomes relevant to explore the importance that language assumes in these marginalized spaces, which are marked by a spatialization of denial of access to goods and services (Raposo et al., 2019). One of the processesthat legitimise this type of inequality is imposed by ethnic-racial borders, tracing a continuity with colonial and capitalist logics, where it becomes evident what Fanon (1968) refers to as compartmentalized cities, delineated throughprocesses of racialization that intersect with class and space. In fact, Domingos and Peralta (2013) demonstrate how the housing segregation characteristic of the colonial period translates into a dynamic of domination with palpable elements in current contexts, visible in the organization of cities that were imperial capitals, such as Lisbon.

Nevertheless, these territories are not limited to the contexts of deprivation imposed upon them. It is also in the margins –where the laws governing the centres are not inscribed (Turner, 1969) – that the urban structure takes the spatial form of identity affirmation and resistance, profoundly linked to language (Turner, 1968; Certeau, 1980).

This article, therefore, starts with the question: What role does language play in the daily life of the periphery of Lisbon? Through this question, the aim is to understand how words are articulated with the contexts of exclusion that shape the urban condition in the suburbs and, simultaneously, function as a mechanism of identity affirmation and resistance.

To delve into this question, four young people aged between 22 and 25 years from the Linha de Sintra, in the periphery of Lisbon, were interviewed in December 2022. Namely, the interviews were concerned regarding the neighbourhood of São Marcos, Cacém, Reboleira, and Casal da Boba. The analysis focused on discourses in hierarchical situations thathighlight oppressive structures, as well as creative values in daily sociability and artistic forms that permeate everyday space, such as graffiti.

Regarding power relations, Karl Marx apprised that the dominant ideas are the ideas of the dominant class (Marx,2019). James C. Scott (1985) proposes a careful look at this hegemonic appearance, paying attention to the ideas and practices that effectively prevail in subordinate classes. Hence, the author argues that the apparent consent observed inthe subordinate classes may reveal non-visible forms of insubmission. Instead of limiting resistance only to what is seen in public, such as organized collective movements and symbolic demonstrations, Scott suggests analysing the spacewhere most of the conflict and resistance occur: in everyday life.

In this sense, Scott (2013) identifies two predominant discourses: the public and the hidden. Public discourse serves as a facade that stems from the need to maintain relations with the ruling class and it is expressed through a performance of outward consent. On the other hand, the hidden discourse thrives within close circles, providing a venue for suppressed rebellions and resentments.

In terms of linguistic resources that hold pragmatic value, several studies have highlighted ways of addressing as one ofthe most obvious links between the structure of language and the structure of society (Gouveia, 2008). Given this, this article considers a daily situation where social order is typically emphasized in these racialized neighbourhoods – police contact. For young people from the periphery, the way they address the police is in the third-person singular with a nullsubject. Two of the young interviewees, Rafael and Raquel, mentioned they use this form to be “as subtle as possible, so there are no mistakes.” This reflects the fear of making linguistic errors, which can lead to confrontations, especially “when one loses the sense of belonging” and is often resolved through distancing strategies (DaMatta, 1980: 188).

However, the careful choice of words that is evident in the performance of public discourse does not extend to the hidden discourse within close circles (Scott, 2013). Building on this premise, the interviewees were asked about the nicknames they use for the police in their circles. All the young people mentioned that terms like bófia, bongó and porcos[meaning pigs] are commonly used in the periphery. In these neighbourhoods, police violence rates are drastically higher since the precarious and racialized populations, as well as their territories, are historically criminalized (Alves et al., 2021). Ana claims that the use of these nicknames symbolizes how “the feeling of not liking the police in theperiphery is general”. Similarly, as expressed by Rúben, “It’s a way to demonstrate our distance”.

Regarding the criminalization imposed in these areas, the young people reported that they were stereotyped by phrasesthat indicate that people living in Linha de Sintra have a greater predisposition to commit crimes. Ana tells us that they often say to her: “Oh, you’re from Amadora? Better watch your wallet”. About Rafael they say: “Look he’s from Cacém, he’s dangerous”. It should be noted that, as regards those whoare criminalized, language itself takes on values that define it according to the social stratum to which it refers. Look, forexample, at the euphemisms that prevail, where young black people from the periphery are presented as outlaws in the sensationalist media, but the act of a person of high economic class stealing is merely defined as fraud (Lapa, 2007: 27).

Also about contexts of exclusion, Grada Kilomba (2020: 111) exposes how the question “Where are you from?”, when directed from a white person to a black person, figures as an exercise of power “that confirms dominant fantasies about”race” and territoriality”, drawing a border that refers to where one should be. Like this question, the interrogation”Where do you live?” can create a separation in young people given the hierarchizing skeleton of cities. As Rafael points out, “In job interviews I say Sintra¹“. Raquel also mentions, “When I think the place can influence me I say I am from Sintra”. In fact, Ascenção (2013) states that the discursive element of housing assumes intense relevance when residents relate to the rest of society, often taking formats capable of hiding the place where they are from, beingemblematic in the search for employment.

In this line, all interviewees mentioned they do not identify themselves as Lisboners, since, as Raquel says, “I do nothave the privileges that are associated with that”. Rúben replies: “Asking that to someone from the periphery is like asking a descendant of immigrants if they identify themselves as Portuguese (…) but this relationship of distance was not created by me”. This shows the recognition that young people are not made central, marked by adversities that are prevalent in the periphery as the issues of non-attribution of nationality, which redraw borders and perpetuate asymmetrical power relations (Raposo et al., 2019).

It should be noted that it is not only the words themselves that take on a performative value, but also the way they are said. When I asked the interviewees if there were occasions when they changed the way they spoke, some claimed that they try to speak in a more formal and correct way when addressing people from higher classes. Raquel mentions, “Ichange because I feel I am being judged. But it’s oppressive to speak, sometimes I really feel like I have to be changing who I am”. Rafael also points out that it’s “mostly to avoid being judged”. Rúben says: “I don’t care what people think. But I’m not going to guarantee you that it was always like  that. When I got to college, I hid the way I spoke, sometimes I let out words and it was very oppressive”. It can be seen, therefore, that typically when addressing the upper classes, the concern with social position is accentuated and the fear of “dropping words” that will be sanctioned arises when one loses “the notion of place” DaMatta (1980: 188). Indeed, on the classification of language varieties that are not accepted, Bagno (2003: 29) notes that prejudice is not strictly linguistic, “what is being evaluated is not just the person’s language, but the person himself”. Thus, linguistic practices are the means that make prejudice visible.

Nevertheless, despite residents having their existence confined to the condition of the other through borders that deny them rights and their own humanity, those who inhabit the margins also challenge these categorizations by producing counter-representations about themselves and the society to which they belong (Ascenção, 2013). In this sense, it isimportant to introduce Turner’s notion of the margin (1969), which denotes that there are states in which certain groups characterized as non-beings can approach and coexist with each other in a more egalitarian manner. In that way, theauthor contests that it is in the margins of the structure and beneath it that the interstices of norms erupt, offering possibilities to build new identities and social realities.

When inquired about greetings, local expressions, and alternative names that are part of the everyday life in theseneighbourhoods, all the interviewees showed a predisposition for creative values associated with them. Regardinggreetings, the young people stated that “each area has its own handshake”, sometimes incorporating words. Rúben mentioned that the handshake in the Casal da Boba neighbourhood includes the “503”, which is associated with thevertical view of the neighbourhood. Raquel also mentioned that the postal code is typically included in the greeting.

As for local expressions, Rúben recalled one expression in Creole, “Boba li ké terra,” which translates to “Boba here isthe land” in Portuguese. In this regard, the young people stated that alternative names were created to refer to the placewhere they live. Among various examples, São Marcos is called “SM City” and “Baixada,” Cacém is known as “AKACity”, which stands for “Afrikanus ku Atitudi” or “Agualva Ka100 e Arredores,” and Casal da Boba is referred to as “503”.

When asked what these alternative forms of greetings, expressions and names create and why they are used, the interviewers answered the following:

It’s all about a question of identity (…) if you look at the cultural level there is this statement that says “we are from the suburbs” [Ana, Reboleira]

It reinforces the sense of community here in the hoods, it gives us an identity all our own (…) I think the alternative names might even be to give our names ourselves and not let others define for us our spaces and who we are [Raquel, São Marcos]

Some are adaptations because of what we live here, and to have our own language. Like it’s a personalized thing that you only know if you’re from this hood [Rafael, São Marcos]

To create a sense of unity we have that thing of creating a scene of our own (…) As we are more united in the hoods, we have that need to create an identity [Rúben, Casal da Boba]

It is, therefore, through the constant interactions that take place in these neighbourhoods that a sense of community is consolidated, and neighbourhood community relations are reinforced. There is a sense of pride and an appropriation from being from the suburbs as an emblem of identity. In this way, groups are solidified, and contours of belonginglinked to the territory are delineated, which aligns with the processual way in which identity is discursively constructed, as advocated by Hall (1996). Indeed, all the young people mentioned that specific greetings of the area, alternativenames, and local expressions represent signifiers of identity and collective belonging. These formats “are visible marksof shared meanings, of worlds of belonging” (Pais, 2017:925), where only those who belong to the neighbourhood know their meaning. As such, borders are redefined, and their constituents are marked through formats that represent them in acontinuous movement through time. In this way, these linguistic formats not only reflect the social, being the locality and the groups daily reinvented by the residents. As pointed out by Pais (2004), territories of liminality, such as those designated as “dangerous neighborhoods”, generate a sense of belonging that ensures convivial landmarks that are aguarantee of identity affirmations and allow for the recreation of new urban scenes.

On the other hand, as Raquel argues, the creation of other names for places can stem from the need to redefine them,with a refusal to use given names that have become stigmatized. It is in this sense that Godinho states (1998) that the struggle for freedom implies for all oppressed groups the struggle for the right to speak and to name themselves instead of being named. In this way, collective identifications are constructed, aligned with the places and the sense that the inhabitants have of them, bypassing what is imposed on them. They claim, therefore, participation in the neighbourhood’s construction through toponomy. The inclusion of “city” in the names, as well as local expressions such as “Boba li ke terra”, seem to claim a new territoriality, constituting centres in the peripheries. This type ofexpressions appears to be recurrent in the margins. In fact, Rafael also mentions that “here it is said that AKA City is the capital of Linha de Sintra”.

As argued by Certeau (2009), language is one of the fundamental domains for a broader understanding of the resistanceof social groups, insofar as the dominant discourse is imposed by the institutions of power, which constitutes the linguistic capital of the elites, and which is circumvented by subordinate groups through creative and adaptive forms.

Emphasizing creative values, artistic formats linked to words emerge. All the young people mentioned that the peripheral neighbourhoods are surrounded by various graffiti. In São Marcos, “there are love poems, names of groups organgs from the area, postal codes, or BXD, more revolutionary phrases, and many criticizing the police”, as Raquel describes. Ana also reports that in Boba:

There are many graffiti pieces that have a lot to do with the issue of identity and for statement purposes. There’s one with Amílcar Cabral, another with lyrics from Kendrick Lamar, a raised fist of Fanon, which are literally political statements. There are also some that are more cultural and African-originated.

Raquel mentions that the community-made graffiti “are leaving a mark on the neighbourhood, and for example, those about the police, I think they are ways of dealing with problems and exposing them to the people here who also suffer from them.” Rafael points out that they are typically “ways to expand our ideas (…) they create identity and belonging, we are the ones making our ideas visible in our space”.

In this sense, it is evident that graffiti practice for young people resides in a format capable of permeating the urban and social fabric. Pais (2017: 310) also affirms that everyday life is a field of resistance with creative potential, where civic-political appropriations emerge, transforming public space into a stage for protests that often simply refer to the right todignity.

Indeed, according to Turner (1968), artistic and social activities linked to creative values mainly occur on the fringes ofestablished cultural systems, outside the common paths. It is in this sense that Rúben claims, “The hoods have always been the cradle of culture (…) Culture comes from the most excluded”.

Thus, although the contexts of exclusion are emphasized in the discourse of young people and the stigmatization thatrevolves around the peripheral areas are made visible through linguistic practices, these places, beyond territories ofexclusion, are also territories in emancipation, with the word being an essential vehicle in this transgressive character. Infact, young people from the periphery shape language through creative values that govern their daily social interactions and make it possible toredefine their own spaces. Depending on social needs and daily realities, words are adjusted and collective identifications about space are built, outlining contours of belonging and unity. Furthermore, the consciousness that they live on the margins and the stigmatization to which they are subjected leads to the characterization of centres on the peripheries and the subversion of the categories imposed on them. This subversion intersects with artistic practices that appropriateeveryday space, emerging in the form of graffiti culture. Through this artistic practice, they reinvent the urban structurein a continuous dialog between the public space and the surrounding community. Everyday social interactions are therefore part of a territorial identity affirmation and concrete resistance purposes, where through the creative agency of young people, they unfold into infinite possibilities for fairer and more humane alternatives.