Before Karol G took Coachella’s main stage, the first thing fans heard was the voice of her ancestors. Accompanied by Women Who Run with the Wolves-inspired visuals telling the story of a strong woman reborn after being silenced, the screens announced her as “forever wild, forever free, Latina forever.” Later on in the set, the sound of a waterfall roars in darkness. When the lights come on, she appears atop an elevated pool that extends out of the large grotto where she has spent most of the night throwing it back to her catalog of smash hits and highlights from new album Tropicoqueta. She stares out into the expanse of adoring fans holding the colors of their countries. 

“Wow…all of these flags you’ve brought,” she says in Spanish, voice shaky with the moment’s weight. 

In her April cover story interview with Paola Ramos, Karol G told Playboy that, because of the increasingly hostile environment to Latine immigrants, she would be willing to say on Coachella’s stage what Bad Bunny said when he accepted the GRAMMY for Best Música Urbana Album: “ICE out.” More than the statement, Karol said she wanted her words to mean something more, to have impact. Of course, even with Puerto Rico’s status as the world’s oldest colony, Benito has a U.S. passport. The Medellín-born megastar told Playboy that she’s aware that speaking out could make her “bait.” “Some people want to show their power,” she said.

It’s against this backdrop that Karol G made history by taking the stage as the first Latina to headline Coachella. For almost two hours, the Colombian pop reggaeton phenom more than proved she’s earned her stripes, placing her in the legacy of showgirls who inspired the aesthetic of her recent album, one where she experimented with genres from nearly every culture that might be considered Latin America, from Mexico through the Caribbean and down to Argentina. And it was against this backdrop that Karol took a stand.

With a dancer waving a Mexican flag behind her, she said in English near the end of the performance: “It’s been 27 years and it’s the first time that a Latina girl is headlining. This is not just about me, but this is about my Latina community, and for my Latinos that have been struggling in this country lately. We stand for them. This brings out the best in us: unity, resilience, strong spirit. I want everyone to feel proud of where you come from. Please don’t feel scared. ¡Levanten esas banderas!”

And the fans raised their flags. The Colombian fans were, of course, particularly fervent, a lot of them sporting sombreros vueltiaos as they vigorously waved their flags—reminiscent of the widespread sight that the Puerto Rican pava became atop the heads of tourists in airports all over the world last year as Bad Bunny kicked off the tour for Debí Tirar Más Fotos.

Karol G kept the energy up, baptizing herself in water and grinding on dancers to baile funk and EDM and the sticky popetón that made her a household name. The special guests didn’t steal too much of her spotlight. Becky G came out for “MAMIII” and gave the first breaking of the political fourth wall: “Y a todos nuestros inmigrantes, los queremos mucho…you heard what I said,” she said into the camera with a cheeky smirk. Mariah appeared earlier, not leaving much of an impression. Karol brought on an all-female mariachi band for “Ese Hombre Es Malo”, one of several times Mexico specifically was highlighted.  She premiered a song with Greg Gonzalez of shoegaze band Cigarettes After Sex, one of the more pensive moments of an expectedly high-energy pop show. After Gonzalez’s touching moment with the new song, reggaeton legend Wisin came out and took a well-deserved victory lap, an OG reminding the crowd where the genre came from with a medley that included “Pam Pam,” “Mayor Que Yo,” and “Rakata”.

The show was, undoubtedly, a good time. The massive cave stage made for prehistoric perreo intenso as she moved through hits like “LATINA FOREVA” and “OKI DOKI”. The costume changes in all their shine, from the metallic steampunk glisten of the Mañana Sera Bonito (Bichota Season) era to the bright colors of her current moment, were exceeded only by the transformations of the stage itself. Between the waterfall and gigantic guacamaya parrot she climbed on multiple times throughout the night, not to mention the pyrotechnics and endless fireworks, Karol G incarnated the high-budget pop diva she has always deserved to be seen as in the eyes of the world, the way her much-beloved community has always seen her. 

As she wrapped up, after shouting out the women on whose shoulders this moment stands by covering Gloria Estefan’s “Mi Tierra,” the flag-waving became more prominent, more encouraged. It’s a typical musician-on-tour trick, to nod to the country where one is performing. But Karol flipped the script. In the Indio desert, at this distinctly American festival, at a moment in this country’s politics when being Latino carries a particularly heavy weight, fans proudly waved the flags of Colombia, Puerto Rico, Nicaragua, Mexico, Cuba, Venezuela, and beyond. In the current context, it can (and should) be read as gentle defiance rooted in national pride.

As it goes, Karol G did not actually say “ICE Out.” That’s well enough: these performances don’t shift foreign policy. Some might even call them a distraction in the face of unspeakable horrors. But that did not stop her from making history, or her art from making the statement she intended. A South American pop singer was propped up, given the biggest stage at the biggest festival to play her music, to proudly wear the flag that marks her as a Colombian immigrant on her back as a cape. And by all indications, the people in the crowd—the community she was on that stage because of, who she was on that stage for—danced, experienced joy, and, for a moment, left reality behind.