Soy Bonita. Oil on plexiglass & wood, 18"x84" September 2008.
Soy Bonita. Oil on plexiglass & wood, 18"x84" September 2008.
Soy Bonita is a play on the song “Soy Boricua,” by Bobby Valentín, exploring the tension between spectacle and reality, between what the world celebrates and what remains unseen.
In 2006, Zuleyka Rivera, representing Puerto Rico, won the title of Miss Universe. Her victory offered a representation of Puerto Rican beauty that visibly reflected the African and Indigenous roots of our island, challenging beauty standards that have historically privileged European features. Yet her recognition also raises questions about how Puerto Rico is represented and which aspects of our identity are celebrated.
Puerto Rico is often consumed as beauty, spectacle, and pageantry. Our landscapes are breathtaking, our culture vibrant, and our people resilient. But behind the image of a tropical paradise lies a more complicated reality. According to 2024 U.S. Census Bureau figures, 37.3% of Puerto Rico's population lived in poverty, with approximately 56% of children living below the federal poverty line. These realities challenge the romanticized narratives used to market the island while obscuring the economic and political inequalities affecting its people.
Soy Bonita brings these contradictions together through cultural symbols and layered imagery. Vejigante masks and traditional bomba dresses reference African heritage, resistance, and cultural survival. Two figures in bomba attire carry milk jars marked with Taíno symbols, acknowledging the Indigenous roots embedded within Puerto Rican identity. These elements represent more than cultural tradition; they reflect histories of colonization, resistance, and survival that continue to shape our collective identity.
At the base of the piece, beauty pageant contestants stand proudly in elaborate costumes, commanding attention with their glamour and spectacle. Partially obscured behind them are children. Their positioning is intentional: they are present, yet overlooked, overshadowed by the performance unfolding before them. The contrast questions what happens when an idealized image becomes more important than the realities it conceals.
Today, Puerto Rico continues to be marketed as paradise, attracting tourists, developers, and outside investors. Yet the celebration of its beauty can obscure questions about displacement, economic inequality, and who ultimately benefits from the island's resources. Puerto Rico's culture and landscape are celebrated commodities, even as many of its people struggle to achieve economic security.
Through Soy Bonita, I question the narratives that shape how Puerto Rico is seen and understood. Our beauty is real, but it does not tell the whole story. Cultural pride and economic hardship can coexist, and acknowledging our struggles does not diminish our identity. Rather, it demands a more honest recognition of the histories and inequalities that continue to shape our lives.
Ultimately, Soy Bonita asks: Who gets to be seen? Who gets to be celebrated? And what remains invisible when the world chooses to see only the beauty?