I’ve gotten a surprising number of messages and comments lately asking for my thoughts on the whole Bad Bunny conversation. Since I’m Puerto Rican, born and raised in New York, I felt it was worth chiming in to clarify where I stand. Not because my opinion is the final word — but because context matters, and a lot of context seems to be getting lost.
For the record, I am 100% Puerto Rican. I grew up in the South Bronx, raised deeply within the culture. I speak Spanish, I love the language, and I love my people. Puerto Rico is a territory of the United States. We are U.S. citizens. My grandparents didn’t need passports or Ellis Island processing — they came here as Americans. So when people try to frame this moment through an “immigration” lens, it simply doesn’t apply. This isn’t that conversation, even though I understand why immigration is a hot topic right now.
Not everyone is for everyone — and that’s nothing new. People forget that Elvis was once considered scandalous. Entire audiences were outraged when he appeared on television. Every era has its cultural disruptors, and we’re living in a new one now.
When it comes to Bad Bunny’s performance, there were things that genuinely resonated with me. While reggaeton isn’t really my personal style, the infusion of traditional Puerto Rican music was powerful. The salsa sections, the cuatro being played, the imagery of the island, the symbolism of electricity and infrastructure — all of it mattered. Those details weren’t accidental. They were relevant and rooted in real cultural experience.
If you’ve ever been in a Puerto Rican household on a weekend morning, you know exactly what I mean. Music playing early, windows open, food cooking, someone dancing while cleaning — that’s the culture. We love music. We love food. We love dancing. We love romance. We love expression. What people saw on that stage was an extension of that energy, and it was vibrant, joyful, and alive.
I also appreciated the symbolism of unity. All the flags were present, with the American flag leading the way. He named Latino countries and said, “God bless America.” That matters. Especially when compared to past halftime shows filled with imagery that was far more divisive or openly antagonistic. This wasn’t that. If someone chooses to hate this performance, it feels less like critique and more like hating for the sake of hating.
This isn’t a left-versus-right issue. It’s not Democrat versus Republican. It’s not culture versus country. It’s about humanity. The message I saw was one of connection, pride, and shared experience. And clearly, it resonated — this became one of the most talked-about Super Bowls in years, breaking viewership records. That’s not an accident.
Puerto Rico is part of the United States. It’s a small island in the Caribbean where Spanish is spoken, and it’s part of who we are as a nation. Instead of fearing that reality, we should embrace it. The fear being pushed around isn’t organic — it’s amplified. Media thrives on division. They want us fighting each other. They want us picking sides and hating symbols instead of understanding them.
So my message is simple: rise above the noise. Observe carefully. Make decisions based on what is actually good.
There’s a story Mr. Rogers once shared about his mother telling him, during times of tragedy, to look for the helpers. Focus on the people doing good. That advice still applies. Pay attention to who is helping humanity — not who is tearing others down.
That’s where our energy belongs.
Take care of yourselves. God bless. Love you all.
As always — peace. ✌️
