America has a long history of trying to erase Black contributions while simultaneously capitalizing on them. It whitewashes textbooks, defunds diversity initiatives, and shifts policies to limit opportunities for Black communities, all while profiting from Black culture at every turn. But what those in power fail to realize—what they have always failed to realize—is that we are unerasable. Black people are America. We are the foundation, the culture, the heartbeat, and the soul of this nation. And no performance in recent history made that clearer than Kendrick Lamar’s electrifying halftime show at Super Bowl LIX.

The anticipation surrounding Lamar’s performance had been mounting for months. Given his track record of delivering powerful, thought-provoking performances, fans and critics alike expected something bold. But even those expectations could not have prepared the world for the cultural moment he created on February 9, 2025, inside the Caesars Superdome in New Orleans.

From the moment the lights dimmed and the first beat dropped, it was evident that Lamar wasn’t just there to entertain—he was there to make a statement.

Kendrick Lamar has never been one to shy away from confronting uncomfortable truths about race, power, and identity in America. His lyrics often serve as a mirror, forcing listeners to see the country for what it is—not the sanitized, revisionist version often presented in history books, but the raw, unfiltered reality of Black life in America.

The Super Bowl, often regarded as one of the most commercially driven and politically neutral stages in entertainment, was about to become the setting for a cultural reckoning. Lamar took full advantage of the platform, delivering a halftime show that was not just a performance, but a declaration.

Opening with "Squabble Up," a song that speaks to the tension and resistance found in everyday Black life, Lamar immediately set the tone for the night. The stage design—a massive, industrialized grid of flashing lights resembling a giant PlayStation controller—symbolized the intersection of entertainment, capitalism, and control, a not-so-subtle nod to the way Black culture is often treated as a commodity.

Then, came the moment that sent the internet into a frenzy.

Lamar’s performance of "Not Like Us," a track originally known for its pointed critique of Drake, took on a life of its own in the Super Bowl setting. What was once a diss track had transformed into an anthem of cultural pride. Though the lyrics were modified for the broadcast, the live audience—made up of both die-hard fans and casual viewers—needed no prompting to fill in the gaps. The chants echoed through the stadium like a war cry, proving that this song had evolved beyond hip-hop drama. It was now a rallying call.

The crowd’s response was a reminder of the power of music in shaping cultural movements. "Not Like Us" was no longer just about a rap feud; it had become a statement on authenticity, integrity, and the unshakable influence of Black artistry.

And then, as if the moment couldn’t get any more monumental, Serena Williams—one of the most dominant athletes in history and a fellow Compton native—walked onto the stage. The symbolism was undeniable: two legends, both from a city that America often tries to overlook, standing in one of the biggest arenas in the world, proving that Black excellence is not just present—it’s unavoidable.

In one of the night’s most unforgettable surprises, Samuel L. Jackson made a cameo appearance, dressed as a larger-than-life version of Uncle Sam. But this wasn’t the patriotic, sanitized Uncle Sam of American folklore. No, this Uncle Sam had a knowing smirk, a gold chain, and a red, white, and blue tracksuit—because if America was going to continue exploiting Black culture, it might as well acknowledge the real faces behind it.

Jackson’s presence underscored the hypocrisy of a nation that embraces Black creativity but often rejects Black humanity. With a simple smirk and a few well-placed words—“Y’all love us when it’s profitable, huh?”—Jackson captured what millions of Black Americans feel every day.

It was a moment of satire, but it was also a moment of truth.

For decades, Black artists have used their platforms to speak out against injustice, from James Brown’s "Say It Loud – I’m Black and I’m Proud
to Beyoncé’s politically charged "Formation" performance at Super Bowl 50. Lamar’s halftime show followed in that tradition, reminding the world that no matter how much America tries to revise its history, it cannot erase its reality.

The performance wasn’t just about music; it was about legacy.

At a time when school boards across the country are banning books that discuss race, Lamar made sure that history was being told—live and direct, in front of over 100 million viewers.

At a time when diversity programs are being dismantled and affirmative action is being gutted, Lamar stood as proof that Black excellence does not require permission.

At a time when voter suppression is being enacted in states with large Black populations, Lamar’s performance was a call to action, reminding us that our voices—whether in music, sports, or the ballot box—cannot and will not be silenced.

Lamar’s halftime show was a direct response to the times we live in. It was a performance rooted in history, shaped by struggle, and fueled by the unrelenting spirit of Black America.

For years, America has tried to erase us—from slavery to segregation, from redlining to mass incarceration, from voter suppression to attempts to erase Black history from the classroom.

But history has shown, time and time again, that we are unerasable.

You can cancel every program. You can roll back every policy. You can attempt to silence every voice. But you cannot erase us.

Black people are America. Not just a part of it—not just contributors—but the very essence of what makes this country what it is.

And if that wasn’t already clear, Kendrick Lamar just made sure that everyone watching the Super Bowl will never forget it.