We sat down with NYC’s B-Girl Rokafella from Full Circle Souljahs to chat about the evolution of breaking, what advice she’d give the B-Girls of today and discuss the importance behind educating yourself on hip-hop’s roots.
With over two decades on the scene, what’s one piece of advice you'd give B-Girls starting today?
Oh wow, it would be a few, but my first piece of advice would be that you have to study the history. Hip-hop was born because of oppression, and a lot of dancers don’t know that. They’re into the competitive side and the self-work, but they haven’t taken the time to learn about what people did in the past to bring their culture to where it is now.
So you feel like more B-Girls and B-Boys should educate themselves on that?
For me, when you jump into hip-hop culture and are representing it on a global level how B-Girls are now, you come with responsibility with your dance. That responsibility is to be powerful and to translate every time you hit the floor with your moves to give respect and give love, just as much you say to yourself, “I’m gonna be the next All Star” and “I’m gonna win”. Once I discovered the history, not only did that change who I was as a B-Girl, but where I was coming from with my dance completely.
How would you describe the vibe of the breaking scene when you first started?
It was rough, because breaking was coming out of this dark period where it was no longer the hype dance anymore. It wasn’t accepted anymore, or featured in any way in the commercial realm like it had been or is now. So when I came into it in ‘91-’94 nobody liked breaking. It was like “That’s the '80’s, it’s dead”, but to me there it was something that I always wanted.
Had you always been interested in breaking?
I grew up watching it in New York City, but I didn’t do it or try to learn because who was gonna teach a girl back then? Unless my brother was doing it, I wasn’t going to have the opportunity to learn. So now in the ‘90’s I met these guys breaking in the street, and I was exposed to this dance style. I asked them “Hey show me a move, show me a move”. After that, B-Boy Kwikstep who became my husband said to me, “Listen to me, I’m gonna train you, but it’s hard; so don’t waste my time!” I didn’t waste his time.
What would you say is the key to staying in the game as a B-Girl?
Evolving. There’s many different phases and chapters to it. As a B-Boy and B-Girl you have to establish yourself and be present so that people will remember your name and then build character by learning how to take criticism and how to brush off negativity. You have to learn to grow with it. I’ve become more of a woman because of this. Breaking does teach you about interaction and rejection and humiliation, and then also how to rebuild yourself and come at it again.
What do you think is one of the most challenging things to balance as a B-Girl?
Again like I said before, evolving and finding balance. You can get so popular as a B-Girl, but then you can also hit this grey zone where you’re not in the limelight anymore and no one’s checking in. You don’t know how people see you once you get out of that popularity. For a lot of B-Girls with pregnancy and as you get older your crew, or other dancers in the community, can be like: “All right, go handle that, we’ll all still be breaking”. And that’s tough.
As you’ve watched the B-Girl rise take off, what do you feel has changed in the scene for the better?
I think even though it still might not be “my” preferred way at the minute, as B-Girls we are accepted. When I and the other legacy B-Girls like Asia One, Lady Champ, Baby Love, B-Girl Beta, Headspin Janet, Bubbles and all these old-school B-Girls hit the scene, it was a new phenomenon for everyone. You could feel the fame growing around you, but it was still so new to all of us, nobody knew the ripple effect we were going to have. I’m proud that we’ve pushed the scene and that led to something. But saying that, we still have work to do.
What’s the biggest thing that drives you to continue as a B-Girl?
When I was young, I didn’t have money to pay for dance classes. My parents were immigrants who wanted me to become a lawyer. So I felt (and still feel) a rebelliousness and independence from when hip-hop said to me “Come on Rokafella, we got you”. That’s the reason I’m still doing this. Hip-hop gave me a platform, as well as told me “you’re good enough, but you have to work harder” I became who I am, and grew the way I did as a woman because of hip-hop. If my parents had money and were able to support my dance career the way I would have liked; I don’t think I would be here! I probably wouldn’t be even as politically passionate about things.
What do you hope you pass on as your legacy?
I’ve bled so much as a B-Girl (like a lot of other breakers out there), but that just made me train harder and want it even more. Now that I’m older it’s like “there’s no way I can just quit because I’m old.” I have to find ways to evolve and still stand and be prominent. When I was first exposed to hip-hop, it was powerful, and it wasn’t so tainted by the commercial repackaging yet, like it is now in some cases, so the hook that got me is still in there. So now I try to pass that hook on to other people that, “Hip-hop and breaking, this can be a life-changing thing for you ... if you’re ready.”