When Bad Bunny took the stage at Levi’s Stadium in Santa Clara, California, for the Super Bowl LX halftime show on February 8, 2026, he was already known for breaking boundaries—musically, culturally, and politically. But this year, it wasn’t just his electrifying performance or the fact that he delivered the first-ever halftime show sung predominantly in Spanish that set social media ablaze. Instead, it was a tender, cinematic moment: Bad Bunny, pausing to hand a Grammy award to a young boy beaming on a living room set, with millions watching around the world.
Almost instantly, the internet exploded with speculation. Was the child, who grinned from ear to ear as Bad Bunny patted him on the head, actually Liam Conejo Ramos—the five-year-old Ecuadorian boy whose recent detention by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) in Minnesota had become a lightning rod for debate over immigration policy? As images of a blue bunny hat and a Spider-Man backpack circulated, hearts ached and hashtags trended. "Hold up. Did Bad Bunny just give a Grammy to Liam Ramos??? I thought this moment was so touching and meaningful, but if it's Liam...that times a million," one user tweeted, echoing the sentiment of thousands (Economic Times, Hindustan Times).
But as the halftime haze cleared, reputable outlets like The New York Times, The Economic Times, and HuffPost confirmed the truth: the young boy was not Liam Ramos but Lincoln Fox Ramadan, a five-year-old child actor and model from Costa Mesa, California. According to reporting by Philip Lewis of HuffPost and corroborated by TMZ and Nexstar, Lincoln Fox Ramadan, who is of Egyptian and Argentine heritage, was hired specifically to play this role in the halftime narrative. His participation was confirmed by multiple sources, and soon his own Instagram post—"I’ll remember this day forever! … it was my truest honor"—added a personal touch to the story (Nexstar).
Lincoln Fox Ramadan is no stranger to the spotlight, even at such a young age. Represented by LA Models’ Junior Division and the W Group since 2020, he’s appeared in commercials and photo shoots across Los Angeles and Florida. His profile lists skills like adaptability, emotional expression, and the ability to follow direction—qualities that surely helped him shine on the world’s biggest stage (Economic Times, Revista Merca2.0). Balancing kindergarten with a burgeoning career, Fox has become something of a symbol for a new generation of multiethnic performers. His mother is Egyptian, his father Argentine, and his background has only fueled the narrative of diversity that Bad Bunny’s show sought to celebrate (Revista Merca2.0).
The confusion with Liam Conejo Ramos, however, was more than a simple case of mistaken identity. It spoke to the charged political climate in which Bad Bunny’s performance unfolded. Liam, a five-year-old Ecuadorian asylum seeker, was detained in January 2026 alongside his father in Columbia Heights, Minnesota. The pair were transported to an ICE family detention facility in Dilley, Texas, before a federal judge ordered their release on January 31. Photographs of Liam—small, vulnerable, and clutching a Spider-Man backpack—sparked outrage, especially after reports surfaced that ICE agents had allegedly used him as bait to arrest his father. The Department of Homeland Security later said it was pursuing the boy’s deportation, though it denied seeking expedited removal, a point of contention highlighted by Reuters and The New York Times.
In the days leading up to the Super Bowl, Bad Bunny had already made headlines for his outspoken stance on immigration. Accepting the Grammy for Best Música Urbana Album on February 2, he declared, "Before I say thanks to God, I’m going to say ICE out. We’re not savage, we’re not animals, we’re not aliens. We are humans and we are Americans" (Nexstar). The performance at Levi’s Stadium, then, was widely interpreted as a continuation of this message. The final image on the stadium’s massive screen—"THE ONLY THING MORE POWERFUL THAN HATE IS LOVE"—left little doubt as to the show’s overarching theme (Nexstar).
But what about the moment itself? Was it meant as a political statement about Liam Ramos and the plight of migrant children, or something more universal? According to TMZ, sources close to the production said the gesture was not political but intended to inspire all children to "dream as big as performing at the Super Bowl." One person involved told The New York Times that the scene was "a general moment of optimism aimed at young viewers," with Bad Bunny telling Lincoln, "Always believe in yourself." Still, for many viewers—especially those attuned to the ongoing debates about immigration and Latino identity in the U.S.—the symbolism was impossible to ignore.
Bad Bunny’s own history of advocacy, particularly for Puerto Rican and Latino rights, made the moment feel loaded with meaning. As Revista Merca2.0 noted, his act of handing the Grammy to a child was widely interpreted as a call to imagine a different future, to believe in dreams, and to celebrate Latino culture on one of the world’s biggest stages. The fact that the NFL’s halftime show had become a flashpoint for political debate was not lost on anyone. Former President Trump, for his part, took to Truth Social to deride the performance, calling it "One of the worst, EVER!" and complaining, "Nobody understands a word this guy is saying" (The New York Times).
Yet, for all the controversy, the reality was simpler and perhaps even more profound. The child at the center of the spectacle was not a political symbol plucked from the headlines, but a young actor embodying the hopes and dreams of a new generation. Lincoln Fox Ramadan, with his infectious smile and multicultural heritage, was chosen to represent the "next generation" alongside Bad Bunny. As Apple Music and the show’s producers later clarified, he was hired for his talent and presence, not as a stand-in for any real-life figure (Revista Merca2.0).
In the end, the moment that moved millions was both more and less than it appeared. It was not a direct commentary on the tragedy of Liam Conejo Ramos, nor was it an apolitical gesture stripped of all context. Instead, it was a carefully crafted scene that allowed viewers to project their own hopes, fears, and interpretations onto it—whether those were about immigration, representation, or simply the power of dreams. As the dust settles, what remains is the image of a superstar and a child, sharing a moment of possibility on a stage watched by the world.
Sometimes, the most powerful messages are those that let us imagine what could be, even as they remind us of what still is.