Listen to me read this post to you from a rooftop in Puerto Rico where you can hear the sound of coquís in the background. Just press play or find this post on Apple Podcasts and Spotify.
Buenos días, friends and people I would call “friends” if we had the chance to meet. I am writing to you from a courtyard in La Isla del Encanto. The scene: the loveliest of African tulip orange walls, terracotta floors, potted greenery, the sky above me, coffee in my belly, the faint sound of ocean waves, crickets, and cars. As my mami is planning our day of museums, bookstores, kite flying, and coffee, the beat of cultural pride, the dancing of our language, and the flavor of maduros (sweet plantains) are swelling within me.
The streets of Viejo San Juan are cobblestoned and adorned with architectural expressions from Germany, Spain, America, and Italy. Viney plants draped from balconies, murals celebrating la cultura, the scent of perfectly fried plantains, and flags of many nations fill the senses.
Mami and I happened upon an open mic night just two blocks from where we’re staying and decided to join in. There were drummers, actors, poets, guitarists— distinct, yet somehow performing in unison— speaking for much of the population, putting to words and song the prayers of the people. I know this because their songs matched those of our taxi drivers. (I can think of no better way to get to know an area than to listen to its artists and taxi drivers.) Talkative taxi drivers are poets; you can’t convince me otherwise.
Pieces of their hearts sing in unison, “Our land is beautiful. Our land is a fighter. We are beautiful. We are lovers and fighters.”
There is a beauty and a tension here, much like where I live, much like where you live, I’m sure. But here, it is palpable. There is a sense of tenacity and love that has kept the Spanish language preserved on this island. While here, I learned that Puerto Ricans have hemmed into the fabric of its language over 300 words from the Tainos— the indigenous people who were brutalized by colonizers hundreds of years ago.
I take in this island and its tensions as an outsider and an insider. Perhaps I feel it — the pressure cooker of unrest and pride — ever before me as I am the embodiment of this tension. With a sternness not often expressed between strangers, locals make eye contact with me and say, “You better learn and preserve this language. It is a shame to not pass it on to your children.” (Of course, this is said in Spanish.) As a “quarter-Rican” — my mother is half Puerto Rican, half Dominican, and my father is American through and through — and as the mother of children only one-quarter Latino, I feel simultaneously judged and understanding of the sense of urgency.
The sentiment rings out in conversation with locals and in the flying of black and white Puerto Rican flags: “They are trying to silence us, trying to buy out our land and make us forget our language. We will not allow it.” This is not the only expression of these tensions nor the only challenge Puerto Ricans face. Protestors here protest through song. Bongos, guidos, and loud melodies proclaim their cries with smiles as wide as the miles of public beaches bought up and turned private by outsiders. Steadfastness and joy have preserved the culture—especially through the preservation of the language—so tenacity must remain for the sake of the culture.
This is why Bad Bunny is deeply loved by the Latinos here and the Latinos all across America. He is celebrating Puerto Rican roots in a way that brings together all generations as well as much of Latin America. He stands in solidarity with Latinos across our country who are being terrorized by ICE. (I won’t spend much time on it here, but you can learn more in this article by Jose Ramos and in this long-form interview with Bad Bunny about his most recent album.) Let this tiny piece of cultural awareness help you keep an open mind during the 2026 Super Bowl Halftime show. ;)
What I want most to say is there is room for all of us— especially if we view our neighbors as at least as worthy of love and respect as we feel we deserve. I have no choice but to live in two different worlds, but I invite others to join me by simply getting to know people from different backgrounds and perspectives than your own. There is much too much to lose by not being open to each other, and there is much to gain, much beauty to behold, and much wonderful food to enjoy when we come together.
Más Fotos
Extras
The 1956 Puerto Rican Short Film: Modesta
While at a frame shop in San Juan, we came accross a movie poster for this 1956 short film about women standing against abuse in the home. The film leans on comedy to get it’s point across. It was quite lovely to watch.
NUEVAYoL (New York)- music video
Bad Bunny’s most recent album celebrates family and culture by reminding us to take it all it, be present when we’re with loved ones, and love them well while we have them.
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