Courtesy of Julia Ortiz
For many of us, gathering friends, snacks, and calling it a Super Bowl watch party really means coming together for the halftime show; the football is almost incidental. But this year, on the second Sunday of February in California, the halftime performance became more than a show. Just weeks after ICE’s violence in Minneapolis, Bad Bunny ended his performance by naming every country in the Americas after saying, ‘God Bless America.’ The thirteen-minute show was full of imagery of representations, embroidered with resistance against imperialism.
Bad Bunny opened the show by stepping out of a row of towering sugar-cane stalks. At first glance, it looked like nothing more than a lush Caribbean set piece. Still, the image portrayed the history of exploitations and survivals: sugarcane is the crop that built Puerto Rico’s colonial economy, first under Spain, through slavery and forced labor, and later under U.S. rule, when mainland corporations controlled the island’s land and profits. For Puerto Ricans, those tall stalks are not decoration but a reminder of centuries of extraction that their culture survived anyway.
Later, when Ricky Martin joined him onstage to sing ‘Lo Que Le Pasó a Hawaii’, and chanted the line ‘Don’t let go of the flag and don’t forget the lelolai’, Bad Bunny emerged holding the Puerto Rican flag. As the music continued, he climbed an electricity tower to perform ‘El Apagón.’ The music fused with the strong message of protest against the electricity crisis in Puerto Rico, exposing the failure and negligence of the mainland U.S. government. The scene reminded everyone of Puerto Rico’s 11-month power outage after Hurricane Maria.
The walk of Bad Bunny was lined with scenes of jíbaro-inspired dancers, domino tables, roadside coconut stands, food carts, and many more, picturing the everyday street life of a Puerto Rican. The show also featured appearances from Latin icons, including Ricky Martin, Karol G, Young Miko, and Cardi B.
Art has the unique power to send messages and connect humans. Representation on a stage like this is more than aesthetic portrayal; it is a solace to anyone who has crossed borders, left home behind, or is building a dream in a country that still calls them “alien.” For an international student, a Latin American family, a first-generation worker, or a child of immigrants, the show created a moment of safety, a place where they could see themselves reflected, where they could feel themselves being celebrated, and where they could feel proud of their culture. Even those who do not understand Spanish could relate to the performance, because the emotion behind the music is transcendental. The symbol of resistance speaks of the same sufferings and insecurity they went through.
In a world shaped by arbitrary borders and colonialism, this performance dared to make those divisions look hollow. It echoed the frustrations of communities who face ICE raids, discriminatory policies, and the quiet violence of being treated as less than human – Puerto Ricans included, who are so often made to feel like second-class citizens. Bad Bunny’s show did not stop at representation; it became a collective protest against nationalism, imperialism, and the long history of exploitation that still shapes life in the Americas. That is why it resonated far beyond its aesthetics. It was a voice – loud, defiant, and shared by millions – carried through music.
For decades, the commercialization of the arts asked artists to adapt mainstream culture in order to appeal to the majority of consumers or to be relevant. Local artists choosing the culture and language of the majority to curate lyrics, stories, and choreography sounded the most business-oriented move. Many abandoned their own languages in favor of English or mainstream aesthetics, internalizing the idea that to succeed, they must carry the dominant culture. Bad Bunny thrashed the concept. On the biggest corporate cultural stage in the United States – the Super Bowl halftime show – he performed entirely in Spanish, without translation.
At a moment of intense political pressure, when Turning Point USA staged its own ‘All-American’ halftime show, and controversies pushed an expectation for him to cater more to English-speaking audiences, he did not give in. His performance was a direct ridicule of the nationalists. By standing firm in his culture and protest, Bad Bunny redefined the corporate musical success rulebook. For anyone who has ever felt compelled to shed their communal identity to fit into the mainstream, his show served as a reminder that authenticity and boldness are the most profitable art form.
In defying cultural and nationalist imperialism, ‘The only thing stronger than hate is love.’
