Squabble Up: The Revolution Was Televised

 

Kendrick Lamar turned the Superbowl halftime show into full Sunday experience of reckoning! Liss’n! I always loved English Lit and I have been real good at it too. Let me tell you how I had a grand time with the masterclass in storytelling, history, and the urgent rhythms of now that Mr. Lamar brought to the stage on Sunday February 09th.

Admittedly, I was not even aware that it was Superbowl Sunday. I am not a football fan, and I only tuned in to previous Superbowls for the commercials and the halftime shows. When my friend told me that Kendrick Lamar would be performing at halftime, I knew it was about to be on. I am a Kendrick Lamar fan. Now that that is out of the way, let’s talk about halftime. We had a WHOLE time at halftime!

The lights dimmed and the first beats dropped as a 1987 Buick GNX was revealed. It was personal. It was Kendrick’s birth year, and an echo of the Buick Regal his father drove. It represented power and defiance. To me, it was also a symbol and a reminder that every revolution starts at home. Oh! And the rebel bell-bottoms jeans! Call to worship.

The PlayStation controller formation was quite telling, reminding us that there is a game afoot and even that we are being played. We live in a world where power is wielded like a joystick, where oppression is coded into the system, and where people on the margins must constantly navigate levels designed to keep them losing. And yet, here he was, as my people say, ‘flipping the script’ in real time showing us how this nation continues to 'pimp butterflies'.

Our Liturgist Samuel L. Jackson as Uncle Sam ushered in satire and truth with the sharpest edge. He called the plays like a referee at the gates of justice, as a caricature of a nation that loves to sell dreams but rarely delivers freedom. In the plays he called, I heard the criticisms so often slung at people of Color about being too loud, too reckless, clothes too bright, too this, too that, too the next, and too ghetto. Oh! And the hair... And as Kendrick’s voice pierced through the speakers, the question hung in the air: Who really wins in this game?

The setlist was a prophecy. He performed Alright, that was like an invocation, or a declaration of survival in the face of a country that too often treats Black joy, resilience, or Black anything as a threat. He layered in Not Like Us, a track that sent ripples through the crowd, a song originally aimed at a rival but doubling as a critique of a system that rewards those who exploit and punishes those who speak truth.

And then there were SZA and Serena Williams, their hair unapologetically voluminous, and their presence a statement in itself. It was an ode to a people and culture that refuse to shrink under scrutiny. When Serena moved, her crip walk was history in motion and a nod to a generation raised on coded movements, and a language of resistance that doesn’t always need words.

During the performance, the dancers were dressed and in the formation of the American flag. And the deconstruction continued. I love a deconstruction sermon! Piece by piece, the flag came undone, unraveling like the illusion of justice, exposing what lies beneath and the marked division that exists in this nation. Whelp! It was both a funeral and a rebirth. It was a call to action to sit in the discomfort of truth and then rise to do something about it.

And just when it seemed like the moment couldn’t carry more weight, Kendrick took us to the scriptures of our collective grief reminding us that every treaty made to the marginalized has been broken – including the promise of forty acres and a mule. Instead, people of Color spend upwards of forty hours a week working like mules for straw.

As the final song faded and the lights came back, one thing was clear: this was not just another halftime show. This was a moment etched in the marrow of history. Rev. Kendrick Lamar did not just take the stage. He took the system, turned it inside out, and held up a mirror. The question now is—what will we do with what we saw?

This is a performance that will be studied, dissected, and remembered not just for its beats, but for its boldness. I hear the criticisms of people for whom this service was an offence. Some even called it ‘satanic’. How annoying. Truth has always been derided by those who need most to repent. Then again, such people are more tethered to their hatred than they are committed to logic.

Not everyone will agree with this assessment. That’s okay.  Not everyone understood the symbolism in the performance. That’s okay too. What is not okay is anyone’s stubborn refusal to be curious, to learn, and to grow. What is not okay is anyone’s stubborn commitment to ignorance and hatred. Stop playing peekaboo because Kendrick Lamar has changed the game!

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