Brooke Monk And The Cultural Shift In Digital Performance: When Viral Dance Meets Artistic Expression

In the early hours of May 17, 2024, a video of Brooke Monk twerking to a remixed Afrobeat track surged past 12 million views on TikTok, reigniting debate over the boundaries between digital entertainment, bodily autonomy, and artistic expression. What might appear at first glance as just another viral moment in the endless scroll of social media is, in fact, emblematic of a broader cultural recalibration—one where young influencers like Monk are redefining performance, ownership, and audience engagement in the digital age. Unlike the choreographed precision of mainstream pop stars, Monk’s movements carry a raw, improvisational energy that resonates with Gen Z’s preference for authenticity over polish. Her twerking isn’t just dance; it’s commentary—a reclaiming of space in an online ecosystem that often polices women’s bodies while simultaneously profiting from them.

Monk’s ascent mirrors the trajectories of earlier digital pioneers like Addison Rae and Charli D’Amelio, yet her approach diverges in tone and intent. Where others leaned into commercial partnerships and polished transitions into mainstream entertainment, Monk has maintained a more subversive edge, often blending humor, satire, and sensuality in ways that challenge traditional narratives. Her recent video, set against a backdrop of neon graffiti and distorted bass, was shared without caption or context, allowing viewers to project their own interpretations—some saw empowerment, others controversy. This ambiguity, intentional or not, positions her at the intersection of performance art and viral content, a space increasingly occupied by a new generation of creators who blur the line between entertainment and cultural statement.

The phenomenon of “twerking as content” is no longer niche. It has become a linguistic form of its own within digital culture, shaped by Black dancers in New Orleans bounce scenes decades ago and now amplified by influencers across racial and geographic lines. Monk’s participation in this lineage raises necessary questions about cultural appropriation versus appreciation. Unlike some of her peers, she frequently credits originators in her captions and collaborates with underground dance artists, suggesting a level of awareness that sets her apart. Yet, the mechanics of virality often erase these nuances, leaving her vulnerable to both over-celebration and undue scrutiny.

What’s clear is that Monk’s influence extends beyond entertainment. Her content has sparked conversations in academic circles about digital performativity and feminist theory, with scholars at NYU and USC citing her videos in seminars on post-internet identity. At a time when platforms increasingly algorithmically reward certain types of movement—often those emphasizing sexuality—Monk’s ability to maintain agency within that system is noteworthy. She doesn’t merely comply with trends; she manipulates them, inserting irony, timing, and unpredictability into formats designed for rapid consumption.

The broader industry is taking note. Major brands have begun to shift their influencer strategies, favoring creators who, like Monk, cultivate a sense of unscripted intimacy. This reflects a larger trend: audiences are growing skeptical of overly curated personas. The raw, unfiltered aesthetic—once dismissed as amateurish—is now a sought-after commodity. In this context, Monk isn’t just dancing; she’s signaling a paradigm shift in how influence is built, sustained, and monetized in the digital era.