Serena Williams & ‘The View’ DEFINING ‘Crip Walking’ as Black Culture

Serena Williams, ‘The View,’ and the Dance Debate: Who Owns the Crip Walk?

It was the summer of 2012, and Serena Williams had just won Olympic gold in London. The crowd roared. The cameras flashed. And then, with the kind of effortless confidence that only Serena possesses, she broke into a celebratory dance—one that would set off a debate larger than any match she had ever played.

Serena Crip Walked.

To the untrained eye, it was a quick shuffle, a bounce on the heels, a dance move that lasted mere seconds. But for those in the know, it was more than just a dance—it was a cultural statement. And almost immediately, the takes started flying.

Enter The View.

A panel of hosts, known for their daily dissections of hot-button issues, took on Serena’s victory dance. The discussion quickly veered into deeper waters: Was the Crip Walk an acceptable celebration for the world stage? Was it “appropriate”? And, most importantly—who gets to define Black culture?

Because make no mistake, the Crip Walk is Black culture.

Born in the streets of Compton in the 1970s, the Crip Walk (or C-Walk) originated within gang culture, yes—but like so many elements of Black expression, it evolved. It became a staple in hip-hop, a dance that transcended its origins and made its way into mainstream pop culture. And yet, here we were in 2012, watching mainstream media attempt to police the way a Black woman celebrated her own success.

Serena’s critics didn’t just take issue with the dance; they took issue with what it represented—Black joy, Black confidence, and Black culture existing unapologetically in a space that has historically sought to suppress it.

Think about it: No one batted an eye when Michael Phelps pumped his fists. No one debated whether Tom Brady’s chest-thumping was “appropriate.” But when a Black woman expressed herself in a way that was deeply tied to her cultural roots, suddenly, it was up for scrutiny.

And this is the pattern, isn’t it? Black expression is constantly examined, dissected, and repackaged for mass consumption—usually without the proper credit or respect. The Crip Walk, like so many other elements of Black creativity, has been co-opted, commodified, and watered down. So when Serena did it, not as a gimmick but as an authentic expression of celebration, it was a reminder: This belongs to us.

The conversation on The View was just one chapter in an ongoing story. Who gets to claim cultural ownership? Who gets to decide what is “acceptable”? And why, after all these years, is Black joy still seen as something that must be explained, justified, or subdued?

Serena’s Crip Walk wasn’t just a dance. It was a statement. And like everything she does, it was powerful, undeniable, and, above all, hers to own.