Bad Bunny’s inspirational halftime performance fell short of the goal.

Watching the first part of Bad Bunny’s halftime show “conjured up memories of early mornings in Puerto Rico walking alongside abuela through the field to harvest the day’s meals,” writes Ivan Waldo. (Photo provided courtesy of the author)

By IVAN WALDO

Special to The STAR

I was one of 135 million who tuned into Super Bowl LX for the evening’s real event, Benito’s halftime show. I watched intently as he passed through the creatively improvised cane field. It conjured up memories of early mornings in Puerto Rico, walking alongside abuela through the field to harvest the day’s meals. I wielded an old, razor-sharp machete with a wooden handle like Luke Skywalker, swinging wildly at the cane as I fought against Darth Vader. The battles usually lasted until I felt the thick wooden handle of abuela’s hoe against my head and her yelling “deja la tonteria.”

Bunny’s performance, showcasing highlights from our pasts, warmed my heart. Historical inclusions peppered throughout the show illustrated realities and shared experiences of us all. At the end, when the fireworks exploded, that joyous amusement ride left me deflated, feeling the way so many feel watching this country’s current politics play out without a hint of defiance from elected officials. The show, and Benito, left me disappointed.

Immediately afterward, euphoric comments on our culture being showcased were posted on social media. Reaction videos flooded timelines. Cultural experts, both real and imagined, raced to decode and mansplain the embedded hidden nuggets. Pride poured from profile pages at Latinidad presented to the globe, in our own tongue. The message was unmistakable: representation matters.

Mounting such prominent displays that rooted us to our individual countries, while simultaneously connecting us culturally, was a monumental feat. It highlighted a reality that we here all share -- Latinos and peoples throughout the Americas, those who migrated voluntarily, by coercion, or by force -- which is a desire to freely express our identities and cultures without fear of oppression from the colonizing mindset of forced assimilation. Desire for freedom isn’t absurd, it’s this country’s mantra, the “land of the free.” Those of us educated here were embedded with references to pilgrims who fled Britain for freedom to practice religion outside of the burden of King George. And for us who hold citizenship here, it’s a fundamental constitutional right fought for by the country’s founders. Essentially, what underpinned expressions across social media was a desire for freedom and sovereignty over oneself.

At the conclusion of Bunny’s performance, I immediately understood why I felt disappointed; it was the glaring message left for viewers as he exited. I will gloss over the imagery of the U.S. flag flown first in the procession of American flags, subconsciously signaling it as the leader of the others and what that positioning meant within the context of manifest destiny. Instead, my disappointment centered on the absence of any declarative political statement, which contradicted who Benito was. Bunny had established intention behind his actions. His latest tour deliberately did not include any U.S. shows. When asked why by Variety, Bunny responded with “it’s unnecessary.” Instead, he launched an island residency titled “No Me Quiero Ir de Aquí” and made initial shows accessible only to locals, generating millions for an economy heavily reliant on tourism. This blueprint outlined how an artist, at the height of their fame, can operate outside of the colonial framework to center and uplift the island, while undermining imperialism. That wasn’t an aberration for Bunny. He inserted a mini documentary about the island’s gentrification into his “El Apagón” video. Intent was also flaunted throughout the halftime show.

By logical extension, it’s reasonable to expect a declarative political statement from Bunny. It’s also reasonable to expect it to be anti-imperialist. Instead, Bunny resorted (undermining his performance) to a joint statement with the NFL (which has a history of racism) to promote love, and not how Che intended it.

Money didn’t motivate Bunny, because artists performing at the Super Bowl traditionally don’t get paid. It wasn’t for fame; he’s already a star of more than music. There was no discernable benefit for performing at the event, thus rendering any statements by his performance that much more poignant.

Presenting a joint statement alongside the NFL is problematic considering that it infamously blacklisted Colin Kaepernick and Eric Reid for kneeling against police brutality. The league also employed “race-norming” by utilizing an algorithm that categorized blacks as having lower cognitive skills compared to whites, thereby justifying denying medical claims by former black athletes who suffered concussion-related issues -- stating, in effect, that black athletes didn’t suffer cognitive loss because a higher level of cognition never existed to begin with. There’s also a team owner who was photographed along with white students who intimidated and impeded black students attempting to attend school in Little Rock in 1957. Standing alongside the NFL and issuing a disarming statement in this charged political climate while resources are mobilized against anyone resembling affiliation to the countries whose flags Bunny paraded on screen, is extremely disturbing.

In this climate, it’s not revolutionary nor does it suffice to merely conjure up nostalgia and flaunt culture publicly, even though those rightfully register as acts of resistance in the face of assimilation, because fundamentally, assimilation isn’t the end goal, erasure is. Erasure of one’s history, detachment from culture, the replacing of language, all serve the imperial project of eradicating culture, history and a people from history and replacing them with the colonizer’s take. It’s what fuels the systematic dismantling and erasure of Black and Brown history underway, while a revisionist version of history is implemented. The threat of eradication isn’t existential; it’s real and happening right now. Displays of culture on global stages to ultimately retreat at the end to catchphrases while facing a real threat is in every way as symbolic a gesture as senators grandstanding for a 25-hour filibuster only to capitulate to the same authority they purportedly opposed.

The end goal is not an idealistic dream encapsulated by a catchphrase. The end goal is achieving the desire that underpinned the expressions of pride and joy: freedom and sovereignty over oneself.

Ivan Waldo resides in New York City, is a graduate of CUNY-Lehman College and has a degree in Puerto Rican Studies.