Lithuania's Dominika Banevic, known as Nicka, celebrates her victory at the end of the Women's ... [+]
The dance style of breaking, commonly known by the misnomer “breakdancing,” made its debut as an Olympic sport on Aug. 9-10. While the athletes’ big personalities and flashy moves garnered plenty of cheers in Paris, it was the more questionable moments that received the internet’s attention.
Topics like Australian b-girl Raygun’s unconventional performance to Lithuanian silver medalist Nicka’s choice to wear a durag have stirred up conversation on the internet, leading audiences to revisit concerns about whether Olympic breaking is an authentic representation of the culture.
Real Representatives Of Breaking
Before addressing the memes and criticism, it is undisputable that nearly all of the 33 breakers on the roster are world-class competitors, with or without the Olympics. Gold medal winner Ami of Japan has been winning international events for the better part of a decade and was the first ever Red Bull BC One b-girl champion. Even the dancers who didn’t make it past the group stage, like USA’s Sunny and Logistx, are longtime contenders with serious credentials in the scene (Sunny’s breakout win was Outbreak Europe in 2015; Logistx’s was the 2018 Silverback Open). The b-boy Olympians are equally decorated.
The breaking community in 2024 is worldwide and diverse. Defying expectation, it has grown thousands of miles from its beginnings in 1970s Bronx, New York. The Olympic breakers carry the torch in their own way—the imprint of the Mighty Zulu Kings is apparent in B-girl Ami’s movements passed on by her teachers, and the Chinese team has often called on coach Fredrick “Freeze” Herranen, a 1980s-era breaker from Sweden.
The community also stands together with its Olympic representatives—at Paris 2024, breaking icons like Ivan and K-mel were bouncing and shouting in the stands.
Real Cultural Concerns With Dominika Banevič’s Durag
Criticisms of breaking’s showing at the Olympics are nonetheless valid, and they touch on sticking points that the breaking scene continues to struggle with.
One of those concerns is well articulated by The Athletic: “The notion of cultural appropriation of a genre invented by young Black and Latino men and women by others always simmers beneath the surface, taking away the history of both breaking and hip-hop.”
Seventeen-year-old b-girl Nicka (Dominika Banevič) donning a durag—she is far from the first non-Black breaker to do so—is a sign of a deeper challenge: preserving breaking’s roots as it experiences unprecedented growth.
Nicka has acknowledged the originators, saying “Big respect for the OGs and the pioneers that invented all those moves...Without them, breaking wouldn’t be where it is today.” However, the breaking community still bears the responsibility of cultural education. Tutorials for six steps and windmills are easy to find on YouTube, but it takes more digging to learn about nuances like Black breakers wearing durags within the context of their significance as a cultural symbol.
Newer generations must seek these lessons and elders must readily provide them. A lack of centralized, codified resources does not excuse a lack of understanding. The good news is, breaking and hip hop already profess this mindset. As South Bronx photojournalist Ricky Flores said, “a b-boy [or b-girl] is someone attuned to the dance’s roots and accompanying philosophy, who respects its history and significance. A ‘breakdancer’ is someone who just learns the moves.”
Real Sport, Real Dance
On the other hand, some of the other digs at breaking show a lack of understanding from those viewers. I cover the Raygun situation in another post, but long story short, only the misinformed are claiming she’s a top b-girl at the international level. She is hardly an average person or an unqualified breaker, though. Oceania had a guaranteed spot for Paris and she earned that spot by winning the continental championship.
As mentioned earlier, the other Olympic breakers were world-class, hence Raygun did not win any votes.
Breaking has faced internal controversies in the past few years around topics like the World DanceSport Federation’s overseeing role and whether breaking’s inclusion in the Olympics would whitewash its foundations.
Despite all this, the breaking that we saw at Paris 2024 was as authentic as it gets for competitive breaking. The dancing, judging, MCing, and the music were for the most part comparable to major breaking events like Battle of the Year, Red Bull BC One, Freestyle Session, and so on.
Those who grumble that the Olympics were a far cry from the breaking they know from the 70s and 80s are both right and wrong. Breaking has changed, but it still retains its essence. Large-scale organized competitions started gaining traction in the 90s, but the park jams, local sessions, and grassroots events never left. There you can find the community aspect of hip hop.
What’s special about breaking is that it’s a worldwide culture that still feels like family. Irrespective of nationality, race, religion, or even skill, a breaker can get down at a session and share the circle with others—even with Olympians.