Like any local dialect, it probably doesn’t make sense to outsiders. Some words/phrases might be unintelligible to the uninitiated. Others might not make sense given the context of the situation where they are spoken.
Not everybody in our high school would understand. Only certain people who hung out with us knew the stories that created the language. That’s how you knew what was “meant” when something was said.
Like so many other dialects, you have to listen closely, read beneath the crude meaning of words and come to understand the culture. It’s fascinating how this works, because we can use language to be inclusionary or exclusionary. Speaking Kankakeean, we were neither. We were just hanging out, experimenting, having fun, creating a little enclave where we knew each other and communicated with immediacy, stupidity and hilarity.
Dialects evolve for many reasons, including need. In our case, it was a shared set of experiences that made their way around through storytelling and sheer repetition. Pro wrestling, high school coaches and playground basketball influenced us, and to this day, we can repeat certain lines to a buddy when we see each other, and get an immediate grin and recognition without saying much at all. You just know.
Take, for example, “Hey, wait a minute, where you going with that suitcase?” On the face of it, this phrase means exactly what it asks: The person asking the question wants to know if you are headed to the airport, train or bus station, going on a vacation or some other type of trip.
What the person doesn’t know is that in Kankakeean, when you ask that question, it pertains to basketball, and you are harassing the person with the ball for traveling. “Yo, where you going with that suitcase? Give me the ball, that’s a travel.”
Makes total sense to us, but if you overheard that randomly while watching a pickup game, you probably wouldn’t get it, at least not right away. If you had Kankakee lingo person with you though, he could interpret for you.
The phrase “C’man” is another commonly used term in our Kankakeean dialect. It is short for “come on.” But it means a lot more.
It originated with our high school baseball/basketball coach. He was a commanding presence, a guy we looked up to and mimicked. Multiple phrases he used were imitated by us, trying to catch the exact cadence of his delivery. “C’man” must be stated with the emphasis on “man,” and with that upper Midwest way of pronouncing your “a’s.”
“C’man, son, on the line,” meant get your feet on the end line because you were going to run in basketball. “C’man” in general just means a sense of recognition and familiarity. Someone could do something silly or goofy and you’d look at him and say, “C’man.” It still applies.
When you’re “frontin’” someone, short for “fronting,” you’re doing that person wrong. “Quit frontin’ man. You’re frontin’ me off.” That got a lot of play.
Language ebbs and flows. The U.S., Canada, South Africa, Australian and New Zealand have all evolved niches from England. Brazil follows in Portugal’s footsteps, but adapts locally. The same occurs in all the Spanish-speaking South American countries.
Diversity creates a fluid and dynamic language, one that keeps growing. More forces are at play. That’s a healthy thing. We should all keep adding to the language to embrace the development of culture.
If your language remains static, you’re just frontin’. C’man.