Q&A: Get to Know Chachi Carvalho

Photograph courtesy of Bilindoff Joseph

For Charles “Chachi” Carvalho, performing has long been about returning to his roots. As a nationally acclaimed hip-hop artist and co-founder of Beatbox Studio, he uses music to showcase his hometown of Pawtucket and celebrate his family’s Cape Verdean background. As a community activist and educator, he teaches young people to let their upbringing empower the person they become.

In 2023, Carvalho was hired as Pawtucket’s first chief equity officer, bringing his experience as a lifelong advocate to City Hall. Over the years, he’s also served as a board member for the United Way of Rhode Island, a Transform Rhode Island Scholarship brand ambassador and as a founding board member for the Legacy Collective, among other community organizations. He sat down with Rhode Island Monthly to discuss his musical influences, his priorities for the city and how he safeguards his mental health through equity work.

How did you get into hip-hop?

I was born and raised here in the city. For me growing up — I was raised in the late ’70s throughout the ’80s — I was highly inspired by the things that were different and loud and made me feel excited. When hip-hop first came in, it was just the first time I felt that the music, the culture, the graffiti art, the break dancing, the embodiment of hip-hop as a culture just felt like everything I wanted to do. It felt accessible. It was kids who looked like me. It was all young people, and it was energetic. It was rebellious. It was speaking my language. It gave me an identity separate from the culture that I was being brought up in, which was partially my family’s culture from the Cape Verde islands. I’m from a multilingual home and first generation born here in the States. My sisters and I, both of our parents migrated here from the Cape Verde islands in the early ’70s when the American Dream was a very different thing than what it is today.

I was wrestling between the Cape Verdean culture that I was brought up in and American culture. I never really found a home in either one until I was exposed to hip-hop and felt like, ‘Oh, this feels like me.’ So I grasped on, and then I started expressing myself through writing the music. I was rapping when I was eleven, but mainly keeping it to myself. When I was in high school, I had a teacher who noticed I had this extra notebook I carried around and asked about it. Ultimately, he ended up being a cheerleader for that and allowed me space to utilize that to get school credit. The teacher was Larry Tetreault, who ended up being a city councilman. He made it OK to include hip-hop in the education space, and ultimately I had my first ever performance on stage in the auditorium at Shea — the first time I ever publicly showcased my raps for the world — and I haven’t stopped since. I opened up my recording studio [Beatbox Studio] in 2006 in downtown Pawtucket after a very successful run as an indie artist with a local label, CNJ Records.

You’ve gone on to talk about your Cape Verdean culture in your hip-hop. What is it like for you to return to your family roots through music?

I always had Cape Verdean culture as part of who I am, even though I kind of pushed back against it because it wasn’t the only thing that I am. At that time I wasn’t mature enough to understand that I could be both. When I set foot on the campus of Boston College as a freshman, I’m looking around and I was like, ‘Wow, we’re poor.’ I found myself in circles where I realized that my vocabulary was limited, and so that opened up my eyes to injustices in the world. But the Cape Verdean culture has always been a part of me and something that made me feel connected to a space that allowed me to be in those spaces where I felt different. Sometimes when you’re in spaces where you feel different, ultimately, that triggers this feeling of feeling smaller. But having access to this very rich culture and tradition of people who have always made something out of nothing and had this vibrant spirit and this spirit of giving and this nurturing nature and amazing food and amazing music and beautiful beaches — just a people who were unlike any other group of people that I had ever encountered — that made me feel alive. So even in spaces where I would typically resort to feeling small — if I’m in circles and people are speaking English, but I don’t understand the words that they’re saying — I was like, ‘But they don’t know what cachupa is. They don’t have access to this whole other world, and the fact that if I wanted to at any moment, in this circle, I could start speaking Creole.’

Do you incorporate Creole words into your music?

I do. There was actually a point where I started realizing that American hip-hop wasn’t enough for me. There was a point where I was listening to hip-hop that was being released to the mainstream, and it wasn’t connecting with me. I wasn’t able to find a reflection of myself in it because it wasn’t speaking to how I lived. So I started really diving into Cape Verdean music and really paying attention and listening. And then I was like, ‘Oh man, I could sample this and make this part of my story.’ I had an opportunity in 2008. I got some magazine love, some press, and then I was on BET a couple of times. And then in the Cape Verde islands, somehow they got word that there was a Cape Verdean rapper who was on BET. It gets me emotional just thinking about it now. I was representing. I said ‘Cape Verde’ on national TV not knowing how much that would resonate with folks there. There was a Cape Verdean newspaper with my picture in it and a whole spread. So I started paying attention. I was like, ‘I need to go to Cape Verde, and I’m not going to go unless I’m going to be able to do music there.’ I started making music using traditional Cape Verdean music, which made American hip-hop just stand out from everybody else around here. It was different. It was a fresh perspective for me. I was able to connect with my parents and their friends. They started understanding and putting some value on this dream I was chasing.

Which other artists inspire you?

I’m really inspired by Bob Marley as a singer, songwriter, performer. I felt like he always had really brilliant questions and just always resonated with me. As a performer, I really appreciated how he could go inward. I’ve always been inspired by Bob Dylan as a songwriter, too, because I think he just always pushed against traditional format. As a rapper where rhyming and format, it constricts you, I challenge myself as a writer to not be bound by staying within rhythmic patterns or even within bar frameworks. When I was younger, my friends used to make fun of me because I was a Heavy D fan. As I got older, I was really into the conscious rap scene. Black Star and A Tribe Called Quest and De La Soul and artists like that. Common. Black Thought from The Roots is easily my favorite emcee. Even now, I listen to a Black Thought song and there’s usually a word I have to go look up. I remember being fourteen years old and being introduced to Wu-Tang from a mix tape that I got from POAMLands Mall here in Pawtucket. It was the energy that I needed at the moment. There’s countless artists, even locally. My boy Swann Notty, who I’ve had the pleasure of being able to make music with for a long time. And then my partner that I own the studio with now, Vertygo (Edgar Cruz). And the person who was the first one to really pull me in was J.DePina, who’s a local producer. These are the friends of mine and family. And then just my kids. They’re so young and they’re full of life.

I notice you post a lot about your family on Instagram. They seem like a big part of what you do.

Family is everything. Family is first. And I’m hard. I’m not an easy dad to deal with. I’m definitely not an easy husband to deal with. I’m very transparent about my faults, but I try my best to lead by example, to lead with love. I’m so conditioned to this hard presentation because that was what my dad had to do, because he was taught that. I’m trying to learn to be a little softer. I just became a granddad.

Congratulations!

I have two grand- babies. My daughter Kyla has two young ones. My granddaughter Raiya is two. My grandson, Bubba, is going to be one next month. And my son Cairo is thirteen, Cayden is twelve, and then the older ones, Kyla’s twenty-three, Sebastian’s twenty-four. They inspire me always wanting to be a better version of myself. And so I continue to take on new challenges and try to make sure I’m staying in physical shape and try to make sure that my mental health stays in check. All of these things are just for self-preservation for me to be able to be here for them.  

I’ve always had this balanced approach to music and work and family and that’s OK. I’m not mad at not having a record deal ever or anything like that, because I’ve seen friends who have had record deals and who have just spent months and months on the road living from hotel to hostel to floor to couch. Not being able to have a family, not being able to spend time with their kids. And I’m like, you know something? What God’s given me, I’ll take that.

Let’s talk about your position in Pawtucket. You’re the city’s first chief equity officer.

What does that entail? I’m responsible for creating the vision and strategy to ensure that our municipality is a safe place for all. That we are an inclusive, anti-racist, welcoming municipality where people from all over can come and make Pawtucket an ideal place for them to work, live, play, raise a family. I grew up in this city. I’m a product of the Pawtucket school system. I’m a homeowner in the city. I’m a business owner in the city. I’ve had an extensive career working in education and community service and just advocacy for self and others in this community. I know and understand the potential of this community and the potential to work with the surrounding communities and learn from [them] to make this a place where it feels a little bit more even.

I think I was blindsided when I set foot on the campus at BC, and I don’t want kids to have that same experience and then look down on this city. It took a long time for me to learn that the people within this place are the true value. I think that when I graduated from Shea back in ’95, there were like forty countries represented in my graduating class. The world is here. We’re truly a global region. I can play my part to make sure that I am creating and helping to support initiatives that are building bridges, that are bridging the gap and providing opportunities to celebrate all of those cultures and all of those people, to ease transitions for folks that might be a little bit scared or might be down, to make sure that our municipality and leaders are doing their part to be a little bit more culturally responsive and learn to be a softer version of what they might have been their whole career. I get to work with and in support of the mayor to help just be a voice for those who are in the margins.

What are you working on right now that you’re excited about?

I’ve been on this personal wellness journey of trying to help others by really helping myself. I had a really rough end of last year just in terms of mental health and my viewpoint on society. I was falling victim to this negative perspective of self and the community, that kind of gloom and doom that was happening with the election and everything. I started really being proactive about managing my mental health, my physical health, my relationships and my finances. I’m in this space where I’m setting some new goals musically. Last year, I served as a collaborative resident with the Brown Arts Institute. I launched Cypher Academy, which was a professional development camp for young artists. I’ve been trying to figure out how can I turn that into an actual thing that is not only providing a resource for the community, but also providing a second stream of income for me to build myself up. Same thing with some of the music, like the festival Culture Shock that I’ve done. Global C.A.F.E. is another large-scale event that I’ve successfully facilitated and implemented. Ultimately, I’m in this place where I’m trying to figure out how to take all of these music-related initiatives and nestle them under one business idea that can help me level up.

I don’t know where I got the quote from, but it’s something that’s always resonated with me and I’ve held onto for a while. People think that shared power operates in the same way that shared currency does. They look at power like money. But I look at [power] like information and love. You could give all the information and love that you have, and you’re never going to have less for yourself. There’s a misconception that power works in the same way that money does, that if you share power, then you have less for yourself. Well, ultimately, when you’re able to empower others, that actually brings you up as well. And I know that to be true, because I try to do it every day. When you work to help empower others, it makes you more powerful. I try to zero in and focus on how to make myself a better human, a better dad, a better husband, a better chief equity officer, a better musician, a better event curator, a better friend, or whatever else I’m going to be. I want to share some of those resources with my community so they could do it, too.