Art and music have always been more than entertainment. They are ways of remembering who we are, of finding meaning in what we have lived, and of healing together. In times of loss, grief or change, art opens a door to connection, a door that sometimes words alone cannot.
Recently, Bad Bunny’s concert series in Puerto Rico reminded me of that truth. Beyond the fame and the lights, what stood out was how he centered his people and their everyday lives. When he performed “La Casita”, standing in front of a small, familiar-looking home like those you find in any Caribbean neighborhood, it took me back. It reminded me of what it was like to grow up in Latin America, to experience that collectiveness that is part of daily life, the laughter with neighbors, watching people walk by from someone’s porch, the conversations, the celebrations, the music always in the background, and even the shared struggles that shape community life.
That image carried something powerful. It was not glamorous or distant. It was human. It reminded me that our ordinary lives, our neighborhoods, our joy in the midst of hardship, are sacred and deserve to be celebrated.
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What is also remarkable about this concert is that while it was created with Puerto Ricans in mind, it transcended that context. Many Latin Americans around the world have seen themselves reflected in it — in the grief of migration, in the complexities of the political and social histories of our countries, and in the immense beauty that we carry with us. The music and imagery reflected our colors, our nature, our resilience and our joy. It reminded us that even when we leave our homelands behind, our roots continue to speak through every song, every rhythm, and every story we share.
I know that not everyone connects with Bad Bunny’s lyrics or style, and that this is true both within Latino culture and beyond. For many native English speakers, his music may be unfamiliar or hard to relate to. But for me, as a Latina therapist living and working in St. Paul, I see something different. I work with many Latino clients who carry deep grief and exhaustion, grief from racial profiling, from being unseen, from the constant negative narratives about our community, from the transgressions against our rights and dignity that we continue to witness.
In that context, seeing our stories centered so intentionally and so proudly feels profoundly healing. Bad Bunny’s concert residency in Puerto Rico achieved something extraordinary. It placed the everyday Puerto Rican experience, the real, beautiful, complicated, collective life of the people, at the center of a global stage. Many of us, including myself and the clients I work with, have felt seen and reflected in that act, and that recognition has been healing in itself.
When Bad Bunny later announced an additional concert on the anniversary of Hurricane María, it became clear how intentional this work of representation was. That day holds deep pain for Puerto Ricans, marked by loss, anger and the feeling of being forgotten. Yet instead of avoiding the date, he chose to honor it. He turned a day of collective grief into a day of music, pride and community. It did not erase the trauma, but it offered a new memory to hold beside it, a reminder of resilience and dignity.
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That is how healing works. We do not erase what hurt us. We learn to hold both the pain and the hope. We integrate them. Art allows us to do that. It helps us create new meaning where pain once lived. It invites us to transform memory into something softer, something that breathes again.
At a time when so many negative narratives surround the Latino community, this kind of cultural affirmation matters deeply. It reminds us that we are more than stories of struggle. We are creativity, strength,and joy.
Every time we celebrate what is ours — our music, our food, our language and our stories —we are practicing self-care. We are saying to ourselves and to one another that we are still here, we belong and we matter.
Ana M. Rivera is a bilingual psychotherapist, mental health advocate and adjunct professor at St. Catherine University in St. Paul.
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