Guardian of a language at the crossroads

From childhood certainty to cultural guardian

While most 12-year-olds change their dream careers weekly, Matea had already found her calling. “In seventh grade, I simply announced: ‘I’m going to be a Croatian language teacher,’” she recalls with a smile. “Everyone thought it was a phase, even my high school Croatian teacher wasn’t convinced. But I never wavered.” This early certainty stemmed from an influential elementary school teacher who showed Matea that language instruction extended beyond grammatical rules into life lessons about human connection.

Growing up in Slavonia, Croatia’s eastern region, Matea was surrounded by linguistic passion – her younger sister eventually followed her educational path, creating what she jokingly calls “a family business of Croatian language enthusiasts.” With a master’s degree in Croatian language and literature, Matea now splits her professional life between tutoring primary school students, preparing high schoolers for graduation exams, and teaching Croatian to non-native speakers through Let’s Learn Croatian.

Structure meets flexibility: breaking linguistic barriers

In Matea’s teaching philosophy, structure provides the foundation while real-world application breathes life into the language. “I was trained in the formal school system where everything is rigorously planned,” she explains. “I love discipline, order, and knowing exactly what each lesson will accomplish.” This methodical approach comes from her mentor, a teacher whose meticulous attention to language rules left an indelible mark on Matea’s professional identity.

Yet teaching non-native speakers has transformed her perspective. “Native speakers often can’t explain why we say something a certain way – we just respond ‘that’s how it is’ when asked about grammatical choices,” she says. “Teaching foreigners forced me to find the logic behind our language patterns that I’d never questioned before.”

The breakthrough came when she realised the stark difference between teaching theory and facilitating genuine communication. “In traditional schools, we focus heavily on theoretical concepts. With our language school students, we prioritise actually using Croatian – asking questions, expressing needs, sharing stories. If you don’t use the language, you’ll never speak it fluently.”

Learning through living: tailoring language to real connections

A cork board in Matea’s teaching space displays postcards from across Croatia – visual reminders of the diverse contexts where her students will use their language skills. “I always ask first: How will you use Croatian? With family in Dubrovnik? For work in Zagreb? With a Croatian partner?” This information shapes every aspect of her teaching approach.

For Matea, effective language learning must be anchored in the student’s actual life. “If someone’s partner is from coastal Dalmatia, we’ll focus on regional expressions they’ll hear there. If they need business Croatian, we emphasise formal communication.” This personalisation extends to cultural immersion – Matea regularly shares upcoming events from Slavonski Brod’s surprisingly vibrant cultural calendar, from wine festivals to book promotions and museum nights, encouraging students to experience Croatian beyond textbooks.

When brave students teach the teacher

Among countless teaching moments, one experience stands out vividly. “After just one semester, a student asked me to stop speaking English entirely during our lessons,” Matea recalls, her expression still showing disbelief. “I thought it would be a disaster – she knew only basic grammar and limited vocabulary.”

The student proposed a simple challenge: “Tell me five sentences in Croatian, and I’ll try to understand.” Initially comprehending only a few words, they developed a half-English, half-Croatian communication system. Within months, the student was sending emails and messages entirely in Croatian. “They weren’t perfect, but they were understandable,” Matea emphasises. “It completely changed my teaching philosophy.”

This experience taught Matea that sometimes students learn best by diving into the deep end rather than wading carefully through structured progression. “I normally say ‘let’s go slowly, understand everything step by step,’” she admits. “But this student just said ‘start speaking and we’ll see what happens.’ Surprisingly, she seemed to grasp complex cases better through immersion than through gradual explanation.”

A mission beyond language: preserving cultural identity

When not teaching, Matea throws herself into Slavonski Brod’s cultural landscape – attending wine festivals, book promotions, and traditional celebrations. Her active involvement with the city library connects her to a network of cultural events that inform her teaching materials. “I bring these experiences directly into my lessons,” she explains. “When students learn about Croatian customs while learning the language, they connect more deeply to both.”

The scientific research suggesting Croatian might disappear within five decades has transformed her career into something resembling a mission. “Language isn’t just about words – it’s about customs, identities, everything that makes Croatia what it is,” she states passionately. “If I can teach as many people as possible to speak Croatian, they’ll share it with others, and the language will survive.”

For Matea, her favourite Croatian celebrity isn’t a pop star or athlete, but author Juliana Matanović – a writer who demonstrates how everyday conversations form the backbone of Croatian literature. “When foreigners think of Croatia, they often picture us drinking coffee together for hours, talking endlessly,” Matea smiles. “What they’re really witnessing is the living foundation of our literature – our storytelling tradition happening in real time.”

Between renovating her new home and teaching, Matea remains focused on building linguistic bridges that connect people to Croatian culture. “I invite everyone to learn with us, to experience our festivals, to discover the treasures of our country that sometimes even we don’t fully appreciate,” she says. In her classroom, each new student represents not just a language learner but another guardian of a cultural heritage standing at the crossroads of preservation or loss.