It has been several days, and Kendrick Lamar’s Super Bowl halftime performance is still garnering controversy in a multitude of political and social circles. Lamar, a Pulitzer Prize winner, is known for his passionate storytelling, and his performance at Caesars Superdome told a story of Black Americans and their placement within the fabric of American history. It was a performance filled with political references and allusions to Black history. Given the frantic and hostile reaction from many on the political, social and cultural right you would have thought that the artist had performed a reenactment of Nat Turner’s Rebellion raid known as the Southampton Insurrection on Southampton, Virginia in a slave rebellion that took place in Southampton County, Virginia, in August 1831. Led by Nat Turner, the rebels, made up of enslaved African Americans, killed between 55 and 65 White people. The reality of the recent Superbowl performance was much more subdued and culturally relevant.

Lamar’s performance began with the appearance of Hollywood award-winning actor Samuel L. Jackson. Known for his deft timing and, in particular, his penchant for spewing the f-word, Jackson donned a red, white, and blue garish outfit with a top hat to introduce Lamar at “the Great American Game.” This representation was one that offered a starkly divergent narrative of what the patriotic Uncle Sam, routinely depicted as White, looks like. Midway through the performance, Jackson accused Lamar of being “too loud, too reckless, [and] too ghetto,” depicting stereotypes often associated with Black people, hip hop music, and Black culture. Notably, Jackson portrayed a docile, subservient self-hating character named Stephen in the 2012 film Django Unchained.

The prison industrial complex has continually been a central debate topic for more than a few Black Americans. Kendrick Lamar’s performance provided its own message. As the rapper and his all-Black dancers danced around the field, it became readily apparent that they were performing in a prison environment. The platform was structured to draw attention to the issue of mass incarceration and the gross racial disparities faced by those who are currently behind bars. Black Americans are incarcerated at considerably higher rates than White Americans, even for committing duplicative offenses.

While Lamar has never been a victim of the criminal justice system, he routinely raps about its impact on Black Americans. His recent Grammy performance was not the first live show Lamar has used to highlight the system’s disparities. In 2016, he donned a prison outfit and led a chain gang of backup dancers across the stage as musicians performed in prison cells. During the performance of “Not Like Us,” Lamar rapped to his backup singers, “40 acres and mule, this is bigger than the music.” This was a direct reference to the reparations and 40 acres of land promised to Black Americans following the end of slavery by the union army. The promise was never fulfilled, and the issue is still a part of current debates related to reparations for Black Americans.

Perhaps the most critiqued aspect of Lamar’s performance was that his dancers were dressed in red, white, and blue. However, if the message was not clear enough, they came together during “Humble” to form an explicit image. At one point during the lineup, the dancers all bent forward, lifting their backs in the air. This was a not-so-subtle message to remind or inform viewers that the nation was built on the backs of Black Americans during slavery. Afterwards, the dancers separated, standing in two groups on either side of Lamar. The image of a divided flag spoke to stark political divisions around the nation, to which Lamar hinted at with the line, “It’s a cultural divide.”

The truth is that more than a few Black Americans (and individuals of other groups) have frequently lamented about what the American flag means to them. This is particularly the case when witnessing the flag in the company of those who are the purported enemies of certain communities. Such weaponized flags are an alarming and blatant warning sign to anyone who is not White, Christian, heterosexual, and conservative in their philosophy. Rather than embracing our commonalities, they highlight our differences in sinister and menacing ways.

Throughout the 13-minute performance, many people likely came to the realization that although they cannot stop the constant avalanche of despairing news, they do have some degree of control. Turning off the television or changing the channel are two options they have. The action reinforced his declaration at the beginning of his performance as he knelt on top of a Buick GNX: “The revolution ’bout to be televised. You picked the right time, but the wrong guy.”

This slogan was a direct reference to Gil Scott-Heron’s 1971 song “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised”.  According to his biographer Marcus Baram, Mr. Scott-Heron wrote the song in part to showcase “the disconnect between the consumerism celebrated on TV with the social unrest that was occurring in the nation at the time.” Lamar reversed the meaning of these famous words during his radical performance, ending with a wake-up call reminding us that we do, indeed, have control, and the controller, in our hands. We as the public have the ingredients necessary for resistance at our disposal.

Lamar’s halftime performance at the Super Bowl collectively asked, “What is America without Black people?” Indeed, the performance represented a measure of racial progress that should not be ignored. What it also indicated is that there is still work to be done on the racial front.