Over the course of 24 hours, Bad Bunny’s Super Bowl halftime show brought tears of joy to my eyes as I experienced love through art. My eyes welled up again the next day—tears of heartbreak, frustration, and anger—as I watched migrants walk into an Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) Center with no expectation of walking out on their own accord.

On Sunday, Puerto Rican recording superstar Bad Bunny performed at the Super Bowl halftime show for the in-person crowd and 128.2 million television viewers. Bad Bunny’s performance was absolutely inspiring, as the artist showcased Latin culture while using the global platform to demonstrate that love is more powerful than hate.

Some of the most memorable moments of Bad Bunny’s performance centered on the overarching nature of Latin culture. From food to dance, the island culture is rich with beauty and meaning. Some watching saw the beauty and purpose, instead of deciding to focus on their own racism.

According to Axios, some House Republicans are calling on the Federal Communications Commission to investigate Bad Bunny’s performance, calling it “illegal.” They are citing explicit lyrics in his songs, lyrics that didn’t even appear during the Super Bowl halftime show. Rep. Randy Fine (R-FL) called the performance “disgusting and pornographic filth.”

White eyes are blind to other cultures, particularly brown and black cultures that break down the heresy of racialized purity culture. White eyes often only see vulgarity in traditional dress and dance, which honestly says more about their weakness and own perversions.  

Bad Bunny and the other artists created a beautiful fusion of Latin culture while offering an important critique of the current racialized environment. At one point in the performance, Bad Bunny handed a young boy his Emmy award, demonstrating two things: (1) the significance of generational succession and (2) it’s always better to give than receive (a critique of the current U.S. president).

Another important moment was when the Puerto Rican artist proclaimed, “God bless America!” and then began naming all the countries that comprise America. It was a spectacular reminder that being American means more than U.S. citizenship. It means existing in a symbiotic relationship with other peoples and cultures, which brings me to Monday morning in Dallas, Texas, when my tears of joy devolved into tears of heartbreak and anger.

Missy and I were invited to attend a vigil outside an ICE facility, where migrants come for their annual check-in as required by the law. We were told by volunteers outside the facility (who help migrants prepare for what to expect upon arrival) that about 150 hearings take place daily.  

Against that backdrop, we were told that ICE has a quota. They are required to detain 100 migrants each day, regardless of their status or situation. 

Therefore, they have a 67% chance of being detailed at that facility and then sent to a concentration camp. If the term “concentration camp” bothers you, know that it is the term the volunteers use when referring to the detention centers located across the U.S.

Volunteers told us that migrants report having eaten food with bugs, drinking contaminated water, and being dehumanized by ICE officials, calling them “bodies” instead of individuals. Some migrants are choosing to expedite their deportation simply because they do not want to be sent to a concentration camp inside the U.S. Quietly and stealthily, the United States government—our government—is committing what some consider crimes against humanity.

Lord, have mercy, but not before issuing a little justice. 

Clergy from Dallas and the surrounding areas have been gathering outside the facility every Monday to hold a vigil. On this particular Monday, the vigil was led by an Episcopal priest. The priest, along with his parishioners, processed toward the front of the center, incense and song in tow.  

The smoldering incense wafting through the air made it feel as though the group was cleansing the aura around the ICE facility of the evil spirits that surrounded it. I can attest that it was very much needed.

After we had finished recording interviews with the volunteers and vigil participants, Missy told me what she had just experienced. A mother, after giving birth two days earlier, arrived at the center. She called ICE to request a postponement of her appointment, but ICE declined.  

Consequently, the woman arrived for her appointment with her two-day-old baby in her arms. As she spoke with the volunteers, there was no way to know whether she would be allowed to leave. At the time of this publication, we still do not know the young mother’s status.  

Unfortunately, this is the type of cruelty we witnessed and heard about while visiting the ICE center.  America is only as good as how we treat the least of these, and if this is how we treat migrants—our fellow humans—then we are no better than other countries we decry for their human rights violations.

In the immortal lyrics of Childish Gambino, “This is America.” Yet, even with that dark reality staring me in the face, I still cannot unhear the hope of Bad Bunny.

Therefore, I will keep fighting for justice, fighting for migrants and other marginalized peoples so that one day, “God bless America!” will truly mean all of America.