During The Super Bowl we were treated to two halftime shows. One pulsed with culture and confidence. The other felt like a grievance rally set to a backing track.
A Stage Big Enough for All of Us
Bad Bunny stepped onto the stage in the Bay draped in Puerto Rican pride—flags waving, rhythms pulsing, Spanish filling the air like it belongs here (because it does). He didn’t sand down the edges of who he is or translate his soul into something more palatable for nervous gatekeepers of “real America.” He leaned into his heritage, and the country was better for it.
From the beginning, America has made a promise it has struggled to keep: that all are created equal, that all are deserving of dignity. We have violated that promise repeatedly through slavery, segregation, xenophobia, mass incarceration, and family separation. And yet the ideal persists. It’s stitched into our founding documents and recited in our civic liturgies. The work of each generation is to move us closer to it.
When Bad Bunny headlines a halftime show and unapologetically centers Puerto Rican culture, he embodies that aspiration. Puerto Rico is “all American.” Puerto Ricans are U.S. citizens. They serve in our military, shape our music, build our cities, and enrich our neighborhoods. Spanish has been spoken on this land longer than English in many regions. None of this is foreign to America. It is America.
His performance didn’t fragment the country; it reflected it. It showed that our diversity is not a threat to national identity but part of its very substance. America sounds like hip-hop and reggaetón. It tastes like piragua and tacos. It looks like brown skin and braided hair and flags from territories some folks conveniently forget exist. It carries the memory of struggle and the hope of belonging.
The “All American” Participation Trophy
Which makes Turning Point USA’s decision to brand their Kid Rock counter-programming as “The All-American Halftime Show” so telling.
Bad Bunny is a U.S. citizen. Puerto Rico is a U.S. territory. If that doesn’t qualify as “all American,” then the phrase has been quietly narrowed to mean something else. When “all American” becomes shorthand for a particular aesthetic—white, conservative, culturally nostalgic—we’re no longer talking about civic identity but about exclusion dressed up as patriotism.
That’s not subtle. And it’s not new.
Then there was the performance itself. Kid Rock appeared to be singing, though the audio suggested an exclusive reliance on a vocal track. The energy felt pre-packaged. The whole thing carried the air of a consolation prize, an alternative for those who couldn’t stomach the main event.
For over a decade, the right has mocked “participation trophies,” scolding younger generations for wanting affirmation without earning it. Yet here we were: a parallel halftime show assembled because the official one didn’t center their “cultural” preferences. Instead of engaging the moment, they staged a separate one and labeled it the real America.
It’s difficult to miss the irony.
If America’s strength lies in confidence, then it shouldn’t require a backup stage to validate itself. A mature patriotism can handle a Latino artist celebrating his roots on national television. It doesn’t feel diminished by it.
Bad Bunny didn’t ask to redefine America. He simply inhabited it fully—Puerto Rican, American, global, complex. His performance suggested that the promise of equality, however imperfectly realized, is still worth striving toward.
TPUSA’s show suggested something narrower. It suggested that America is safest when it looks and sounds familiar to a shrinking slice of itself.
One vision trusts that the circle can widen without breaking. The other seems convinced that dignity is a limited resource.
If we’re honest, only one of those visions aligns with the words we claim to believe: liberty and justice for all.
If you’re navigating faith after certainty, loving Jesus but not the empire, or trying to hold on to hope in a burning world, you’re not alone. I explore these themes weekly on the Heretic Happy Hour podcast.
You can also explore my books—including Heretic!, The Wisdom of Hobbits, and others—right here: https://quoir.com/authors/matthew-j-distefano/
Thanks for reading. Thanks for thinking. And thanks for refusing to settle for easy answers.
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