As a Puerto Rican American, my heart is touched by the outpouring of support for Benito’s performance at the Super Bowl halftime show.
But I think that many people are missing how wonderfully beautiful and defiant his performance really was.
Let me explain…
In December of 2025 I visited NYC and made sure to stop by El Museo del Barrio in Spanish Harlem—a museum dedicated to the art and culture of the Caribbean Latin people.
I was literally bouncing up and down with anticipation on the way.
Beyond excited to learn and experience things I never knew about my people, my culture, our artistic tradition, and our history.
(Now let me make it clear that I’m not taking shots at either the museum or the artists highlighted there—that’s not my heart, nor is it my intention.)
Candidly, I left sad and heartbroken because where I was expecting to discover an expression of the proud history of my people—I found exhibit after exhibit dedicated to the memorialization of exploitation, injustice, and trauma.
Now listen—I’m not trying to burn the book of history, nor am I trying to ignore the lessons of the past.
But the story of my people is not the story of darkness.
It is the story of a light that could not be suppressed or extinguished.
It is the story of passion and survival.
It is the story of the history of humanity and the people in whom all of it came together.
Of African rhythms, flamenco, jazz, and funk.
Of salsa, tango, and rumba.
Of mofongo, arroz con gandules, tostones, and bacalaítos.
I choose to celebrate our rhythms, our poetry, our dances, our traditions, our warmth, our resilience, our diversity, our defiance, our passion, our romance—for our blood is the place where slave, oppressor, and indigenous meet together as one.
Our very existence a testament that differences can become love.
Benito could have told the story of the oppressor.
But instead he chose to tell the most defiant story of all—the story of us.
And Dios te Bendiga Benito, I love you for that.