Bad Bunny nos preguntó: What does it take to overcome hate? How Bad Bunny turned this year’s Super Bowl halftime show into a celebration of differences and culture

From the set design to the guest appearances to the final moments, Bad Bunny delivered a message that urged viewers to love, to dance, to unify. To be one with all the differences is to overcome the separation that threatens to tear the country apart.

Photo by Karissa Song/The Barnard Bulletin

By Suhani Kapoor

April 1, 2026

Sitting on the floor of the 616 lounge, football-shaped brownie smearing my fingers in rich chocolate, my heart raced as the countdown to the Super Bowl halftime show began. For weeks, anticipation among friends, online, and within my heart had been building toward that very moment. After impeccable Grammy wins, speeches praising love and unity, and a Calvin Klein advertisement for the history books—come on, I could not not mention it—Bad Bunny had positioned himself as quite the anticipated and controversial halftime performer. 

As a self-proclaimed music enthusiast, I had used all my knowledge — re: the lasting impression that Bad Bunny’s rap verse in “I Like It” with Cardi B made on me — to assume the show itself would be incredible. Bad Bunny has the energy needed to hype up a miscellaneous crowd of families, enthused dads, influencers, and celebrities. The anticipation building in me was not in regards to the quality of the show, but rather the message it would deliver. In a supercharged political environment where hatred and division have increasingly shaped governance, what message would Bad Bunny urge the American public to heed? How would he follow up Kendrick Lamar’s call to revolution from the year before? How would his performance speak to those who refused to give him their attention, tuning in instead to the alternate halftime show put on by Turning Point USA in retaliation against him?

As I heard the first notes of “Tití Me Preguntó” blasting through the residence hall’s questionable sound system, it was evident precisely how Bad Bunny was approaching his performance. If Lamar’s show was a call to revolution, Bad Bunny’s was a call to unity. If Lamar showed us what was broken, Bad Bunny told us how to fix it. From the set design to the guest appearances to the final moments, Bad Bunny delivered a message that urged viewers to love, to dance, to unify. To be one with all the differences is to overcome the separation that threatens to tear the country apart.

The show opened with a wide aerial shot of workers in a sugarcane field, capturing the rhythm of their movements from above ground before swooping down to meet them face to face. The camera slowly moved forward before stopping on Bad Bunny, back turned to the camera, stance tall and proud. Then, hitting the first notes of “Tití Me Preguntó,” our performer glanced over his shoulder, a nod to make sure we were watching, and blasted into his energetic dance number. 

Bad Bunny, originally from Puerto Rico, made it a point to highlight his background. This show was his, and it could not be his without acknowledging those who shaped him. The sugarcane was a prime example of this. The plant was the economic fuel of many Caribbean countries, as well as Puerto Rico, for much of the 19th to early 20th century. Mainly cultivated through slave labor, sugarcane served as a sturdy reminder of the colonial and violent history that has driven profit through the exploitation of minorities for ages, specifically within the Caribbean region. Furthermore, the laborers in the show, dressed in all white and “pava” hats, drew out the image of the common man, of the historically exploited. The outfit referred to an unmistakable Puerto Rican image: the “jíbaro” countryman. 

Contextualizing these countrymen, the commonfolk, and sugarcane on the largest American stage, a stage so distinct to this country because of the sport’s uniqueness to America and therefore the demographic that tunes into it, made a bold statement. Bad Bunny started not with himself but with these images to say: these are the American people, this is your history, this is how we live. His outfit, all white as well, assimilated him into this group. He may be Bad Bunny the pop star, but before that he is Bad Bunny the Puerto Rican, and furthermore, by making such a statement at the Super Bowl, football in hand, he added the layered meaning of saying that he is Bad Bunny the American.

What followed can only be described as energetic. Bad Bunny pranced through the field, hyping the crowd up and passing by dancers and pillars of community. He first passed a coconut stand, waving to people crowded together for a refreshment against the tropical sun. He then hyped up a crowd of elderly men — very possibly including my grandpa, I had to check up on him to make sure he did not fly in from India for a feature — playing dominoes, visited the nail salon to pay homage to some hardworking women and gave them his football, gifting them a piece of America, and moved on. He then had a slightly flirty exchange, turning suavely to a piragua stand to pay homage to a beloved shaved ice dessert that brings together communities. I will note here, I was sad to see that Lin Manuel Miranda did not make an appearance, especially after his impeccable performance as the piragua guy in “In The Heights,” but I digress. Bad Bunny then proceeded to hype up some friends at the taco stand, dodging boxers fighting spectacularly in rhythm, and stopped to buy a ring.

If there was one thing Bad Bunny was not playing about, it was scale. The performance, from its first minute, brought people together and created a community. It was not hard to see what the performance’s theme was. From the homages to Puerto Rican history and the scenes of life depicted, Bad Bunny created a halftime show that dragged viewers into community, forcing them to reconcile with the idea of divide versus unite. In showcasing such slices of life, the food, treats, and moments that bring people together, Bad Bunny reminded viewers that the only way to be better than those tearing people apart is to remember the human moments and connections that bring us together. 

Remember the ring he went shopping for? Yeah, that sums up this entire idea. After glancing at the diamond for a second, he passed it on to a man who then proposed to his girlfriend. What better representation of unity than that of marriage, of two people choosing love and life together? If you cannot feel the tears that sprung to my eyes, just trust that they were there. 

The camera then cut to a little house — a “casita,” if you will — full of people dancing, many of whom were familiar faces. Notably, Jessica Alba, Cardi B, Pedro Pascal, and Karol G were seen in the house, not for any special performance but simply to join in on the party. The culmination of Latino celebrities, hallmarks of Hollywood, uniting to dance along with America sent a powerful message. Unity, above all. Love, warmth, and joy triumphs. The camera rose to show Bad Bunny on top of the casita, dancing powerfully along as the field erupted in an explosion of color and movement. 

And then suddenly, he fell. Crashing through the roof of the casita and into a family’s dining room, he sheepishly smiled at his intrusion of their dinner and went out to join the dancing party on the field. The camera cut to a crowd full of dancers. People moved to the beat of the songs, hyping up the crowd as they showed off their dance moves. As the camera highlighted different dancers throughout the crowd, it moved to show our halftime star jumping on top of a car. Both the car and Bad Bunny were dressed in white, while the dancers were clothed in shades of brown. The aerial shot of the moment showed the dancers circling around the car, each person close enough to hold hands.

Let us pause here. Earlier, we discussed how the white in Bad Bunny’s outfit was significant in portraying the jíbaro countryman. It was also significant, however, because white is the color of purity. Now, it is easy to see how the colors white and brown fit into the United States’ current political context, but it is more important to understand the harmony of the two colors as they played out on screen. White, the color of purity, and brown, a color associated with earth, when put together highlighted the notion of remaining grounded. Rather than focusing on the divide in the colors, the visual representation forced viewers to appreciate their harmony. Their symbolic meaning further encouraged the public to see the harmony and use it to remain grounded, to remind the public that these colors are symbols of good, of humility and goodness, rather than of difference or divide. The closeness of the dancers furthered this message: everyone is unified, brought together, dancing in rhythm and harmony.

Now, let us also not forget that Bad Bunny is nothing if not versatile. After hopping on a car, the dancers brought the club to the field and the show transitioned to violin players dressed in tuxedos. The mood turned suddenly sentimental as viewers were brought to witness another form of unity. Cue an intro ballad from Bad Bunny, and the camera cut to a wedding taking place above the stalks of grass that the viewers had previously been immersed in. 

This wedding had quite the story attached to it. As it turns out, the couple on stage were not, in fact, actors, but rather a real couple getting married. They had invited Bad Bunny to their wedding, but instead of attending, he suggested that they join him during his set to make their vows on national television. Talk about an unbeatable wedding. Bringing this couple up on stage to celebrate their union was the ultimate display of America as a place of unity, of blending cultures, customs, and traditions. A wedding taking place on a fundamentally American stage highlighted the Americanness of unity — the uniqueness of this nation as a place where people come together, rather than being separated.

The wedding party separated to reveal Lady Gaga as the “something blue” — dressed by an American-Dominican label, Luar — singing a syncopated rendition of “Die With a Smile.” In a gorgeous salsa number, the wedding party — which included Bad Bunny and Lady Gaga — jubilantly celebrated the union of the couple. As the song transitioned into “BAILE INoLVIDABLE,” the wedding party drew closer, dancing freer in the arms of friends, family, and lovers. As a nod to a communal moment in many childhoods — mine included — Bad Bunny nudged a kid sleeping on a chair at the function, urging him to join the celebration. The scene was vibrant and full of life. Unity brought it together; unity drove its life. 

And unity caught Bad Bunny, as he jumped back down into the field. A cool crowdsurfing moment ensued—one more item to add to my bucket list—and we were once more brought back to the world of dance and community on the field. The camera panned to crowds of dancers, dressed colorfully, bringing the energy through the roof once more. There was a replica of La Marqueta, a bodega in one of New York City’s largest Latino communities. Toñita, the owner of a revered Caribbean social club in Brooklyn, also made an appearance, serving Bad Bunny with a shot for confidence—not that he needed it. The camera showed a live haircut in replication of another New York staple, Lalo’s Barber Shop. 

It was evident that Bad Bunny aimed to highlight not just Puerto Rican heritage or Caribbean heritage, but show how important that very culture is to America. The celebrity appearances, the replicas of New York institutions, the nods to designers and cultural drivers underscored the immersion of diverse cultures within America. America, Bad Bunny boldly stated, is inseparable from Puerto Rico, from the Caribbean, from the immigrants that have built its institutions and contributed to its culture and its livelihood. 

And he drove this point home at the end of his performance. After highlighting the New York institutions inseparable from the immigrants who define them, Bad Bunny had a heartwarming moment of handing a younger version of himself the Grammy he won, a moment representing belief in oneself and accomplishment through community and hard work. Then, Ricky Martin performed, highlighting even further the prevalence of immigrant and Latino performers within Hollywood and the American entertainment space. He then climbed on electric poles with blown fuses symbolic not only of the song “El Apagón” (“The Blackout”), but also of power grid issues within the Caribbean. Blackouts lead to communities forming to help each other and local-led power line solutions. Even these inconveniences and issues are dealt with through love, Bad Bunny showed.

Now, finally, we came to the grand finale. Grasping a football and looking up to the sky, Bad Bunny declared “God Bless America” and went on to list every country across North, South, and Central America, followed by the flags of those countries. Bad Bunny made direct eye contact with the camera, daring viewers to challenge the unity of the Americas, to challenge the notion that America is all of the Americas, is a community, a union, an indivisible force — that it is not just of the United States of America. Bad Bunny challenged, throughout the show, but more than ever in this final moment, the singularity mindset that has taken over this nation — and he did it with a football in hand. By clutching the instrument of a sport unique to the United States, Bad Bunny drew the American viewership into this unity mindset, urging them to be enveloped in the love and power that exists in the culmination of voices.