If there’s one thing this moment in the United States has made clear, it’s that visibility matters. Representation is not just about entertainment or aesthetics, it is about identity, dignity, and belonging. And recently, that conversation has felt especially relevant.
When Bad Bunny took the Super Bowl stage, it was more than just a performance. It was a cultural moment. Seeing a Puerto Rican artist proudly represent his language, heritage, and style on one of the most watched stages in the country meant something. For millions of Latino viewers, and especially for young students watching from dorm rooms and living rooms across the country, it was powerful. It affirmed that you don’t have to water down who you are to be celebrated. You don’t have to translate yourself to be understood. You can be fully you.
At the same time, many immigrant families across the country are experiencing fear and uncertainty due to immigration enforcement actions that have separated loved ones. Regardless of where someone stands politically, it’s hard to ignore the emotional weight of families being divided. Children losing daily contact with parents. Communities feeling unstable. People worrying about what tomorrow might bring. These moments remind us that policies don’t exist in a vacuum, they impact real lives.
This is where representation becomes even more important.
When communities are feeling unseen or unheard, cultural visibility becomes a form of reassurance. It tells people that their stories still matter. It tells them that their culture is not something to hide. For students on college campuses, especially at diverse institutions and HBCUs, representation fosters empathy. It encourages us to see one another’s humanity beyond headlines and hashtags.
Bad Bunny’s performance was not a message. It was music, culture, and pride. But in a time when many Latino families are feeling vulnerable, that kind of visibility carries deeper meaning. It reminds people of their strength, their resilience, and their contributions to this country. It challenges stereotypes simply by existing in excellence.
Representation also benefits those outside of the culture being represented. It broadens perspectives. It normalizes diversity. It invites conversations that might not otherwise happen. When millions of viewers hear Spanish lyrics on a global stage, it subtly shifts what is considered “mainstream.” That shift matters.
College students, in particular, are living in a generation shaped by rapid social change. We are constantly exposed to news that can feel overwhelming. But moments of cultural celebration remind us that progress is not always loud or legislative. Sometimes it looks like joy. Sometimes it looks like pride. Sometimes it looks like someone dancing on the biggest stage in the world while staying true to who they are.
Representation will not solve every challenge facing the country. But it does create space. It creates affirmation. It creates connection.
And right now, connection is something we need.
In a time of division and uncertainty, seeing yourself reflected in spaces of power and influence is grounding. It reminds you that you belong here too. Whether through music, media, leadership, or community, representation continues to shape how we understand one another, and ourselves.
Because being seen is powerful. And in moments like this, power matters.