If You’re Mad About Bad Bunny's Super Bowl, GOOD! It Worked!

You’re Mad… and that’s a GOOD thing

Well maybe not YOU the person reading this post, but based on my social media algorithm I’ve deduced that’s the case for a traditional American audience that so many of us US based Marketers are reminded to consider when we present culturally focused ideas to the heads of your boardrooms and Teams calls. 

Imagine colonizing an island of free people and calling it yours, and then years later the descendants of that island's inhabitants one day decide to claim you right back…Crazy Right?

Last night’s Benito Bowl is officially number 2 of my top 5 favorite Super Bowl performances. Only second to Queen B herself and in good company with Michael Jackson, Aerosmith and the Prince of Trolls himself, Kendrick Lamar. And while representation was most figuratively and literally on stage, that’s not what made it my favorite. Plainly said— it was the storytelling for me (insert clock-it gen-z fingers for the girls). 

Although those of us who watched the show had the pleasure or displeasure of experiencing it, last night’s show wasn’t for us. It was an extension and more accurate narrative of who we all are, in this country. An extension of narrative necessary for the children of the future. The children who are going to ask about the history of a globalized America. Who are going to genuinely wonder how they got here? Why do they look like this? And where did they come from? 

I’ve spent much of my adult life referring to American history as American mythology, because that’s what it’s evolved into. Stories of Forefathers who selflessly wandered to a semi-abandoned landmass, idly awaiting their arrival. Forefathers who were greeted by a handful of friendly strangers, adorned with feathers who welcomed them with corn husks and open arms, only to decide it was their destiny to claim this land which was merely housekept for them, by said strangers.

It’s the kids bop version of history. Tailored to the densely unseasoned palettes of cultural tastemakers or dictators rather, who knew the same thing that Benito Antonio Martinez Ocasio, Knows— In order to do impossible things— you have to believe in yourself. And the only way to believe that little-ol’-you can do the impossible, is make it digestible or even easy peasy sugarcane squeezy.

Much of what we see in the media today, be it social, digital, broadcast or print feels controversial. A political statement of sorts. A challenging shock to the system of normalcy that we’ve all ascribed to. Be it through classroom indoctrination, a school house rock obsession, Facebook or Tik Tok, we have all received messages about ourselves that express a version of a truth someone intended us to internalize whether to our benefit or detriment. 

There is a nuance, when receiving storytelling through a culturally credible platform, like the Super Bowl, especially as it happens live in front of the entire country. And whether we agree with the messaging or not, isn’t the point. The point is that the dialogue, be it through visual, audio, or symbolic communication, confirms--yes that we belong, and MORE IMPORTANTLY that we EXIST. 

Last night did something spectacular for many of us whose nationality is 100% homegrown American, but our heritage lives outside the confines of US American History books. Though only roughly 18% of the country understood the language, it put on display a proper case study for intersectionality. Just as K. DOT beautifully and poetically, displayed the Black American experience on the same stage in 2025, Benito established the presence of the Latin & Caribbean American experience in this country. An ethnic odyssey that serves as a 102 seminar to the 101 prerequisite of Race in America, driving us from colonial times to today. 

When I saw the sugarcane fields and workers, I felt the presence of my grandfather, who shared his stories of similar fields, shortly before he passed. When I saw the different shades of Tios playing dominos, I named each of mine. The Casita with people dancing and spilling out onto the porch, brought forward thoughts of family parties past, from Jamaica to Central America, to Queens, New York. And when I listened to the Puerto Rican Spanish blasting through the TV screen for 15 minutes, it called to mind the communities of Latinos who created enclaves of Spanish speaking neighborhoods where on any given Tuesday from East LA, to Washington Heights, to Miami, to Houston, you might forget you are standing on US Soil. It also reminded me of the countless naturalized Americans who spent a significant time of their immigration journey relying on body language and situational awareness for survival, because they didn’t understand a lick of the English being spoken to and around them. OH! And the shout outs to both Panama and Costa Rica and the visibility of dark brown Latinas with gorgeous coily hair.. Very explicitly– I saw ME! 

Benito’s Bowl left very little; if anything, on the table. It was a Master Class in Cultural Fluency. I saw it all and I was grateful. Grateful to be included in the vision. Grateful to be a witness to the extension of the American story. And most grateful to have another piece of my own existence on display as an ode to America the Beautiful. Last night was really that— Beautiful.

For those that are mad that the Super Bowl was too political that is fantastic news! I’m glad you felt something. ANYTHING really. That was the point. The more discourse around the subject, the longer the story will remain relevant for generations to come. This relevance isn't determined by whether you liked it or not. It’s determined by how well it fits into the overall narrative of this great republic. Consider that Benito and his lingual defiance is as American as it gets.