Génesis RC

Tag: Bad Bunny

  • Get to Know Me: The Unfiltered Version

    Get to Know Me: The Unfiltered Version

    Look, I could give you the polished LinkedIn version of who I am, but that’s boring as fuck. So here’s the real tea about Génesis Michelle Rivera Candelaria– the person behind the events, the hustle, and the carefully curated Instagram grid.

    The Professional Fuck-Up That Changed Everything

    My biggest professional mistake? Launching the first Sobremesa Chicago event in Puerto Rico – after years of successful events in Chicago – thinking my friends would show up and spread the word. Spoiler alert: they didn’t. The event flopped hard. Nobody came.

    What I learned: Your friends and acquaintances aren’t always your first fans. Sometimes strangers become your most fierce supporters before the people closest to you even pay attention. That’s just how it is.

    The Cultural Contradictions

    What pisses me off: When I say I’m from Puerto Rico and people respond with “ahhh pueLto lico” in that fake accent. We don’t talk like that, fuckers.

    What secretly applies to me: Speaking Spanglish constantly. Can’t help it, won’t apologize for it.

    What I miss from Chicago when I’m in PR: The weather (that perfect 50-75 degrees WITH sun), the food scene, walking everywhere, and that magnificent public transportation system.

    What I miss from PR when I’m in Chicago: The people, the language, the beach, my friends, my family. Todo.

    The Random Shit You Didn’t Ask For

    I talk to myself. All the time. And whenever I can, when I buy food for myself, I try to get something extra to give to someone on the street who needs it.

    My guilty pleasure? El Señor de los Cielos. I’ve watched it so many times I can tell you what season any random episode is from. Aurelio and Rutila Casillas are my people.

    Current rotation: Salsa, Gustavo Cerati, and Bad Bunny. That’s the vibe.

    My one useless talent: Knowing random facts about… everything? I think that’s it.

    Hot Takes That’ll Make Me Enemies

    On the events industry:

    ∙ Low salaries for everything we actually do

    ∙ This myth that you need connections to grow (it helps, but it’s not everything)

    ∙ The “go go go” culture and the refusal to let people rest

    Job posting red flags that make me close the tab immediately:

    ∙ “We’re like a family” (translation: we’ll guilt you into unpaid overtime)

    ∙ No salary listed

    ∙ Any indication they don’t believe in work/life balance

    What Actually Matters

    Here’s something that doesn’t come up in normal conversations or on LinkedIn: I care so much about people. Like, deeply.

    My dream? Having a nonprofit to feed kids and help pass laws ensuring school meals are nutritionally good. A kid shouldn’t spend all day thinking about not having food at home, worrying that their only meal is what they get at school. They should have nutritious breakfast and lunch. It shouldn’t be like this.

    The Future I’m Manifesting

    Picture this: I’m in Puerto Rico, looking out at the beach with mountains in the background. It’s morning – soft, slow. I’m reading emails with my second coffee of the day, planning out what’s most important versus what’s least urgent.

    I’m running a global food business from the island, operating para el mundo. I’m alone in that moment, but backed by a battalion of mentors and entrepreneurs who came before me.

    The version of myself I’m most afraid of becoming? Not this one. The opposite of this one.

    My Event Philosophy

    Keep people happy, respect the budget, and don’t let them see you sweat.

    It sounds simple, but it’s everything. The organization, being clear from the beginning, getting the right people for the event’s objectives – that’s what I learned from 7+ years and 50+ events. From intimate dinners to programs with 1,000+ attendees.

    Advice to Past Me

    To the Génesis from 9 years ago who was just starting with events: Try to absorb everything you can about advertising, logistics, vendors, all of it. Try all the trends. And for fuck’s sake, ask for help.

    The Essentials

    Comfort food/celebration food/hangover food: Pizza. Tavern style for sure. Never deep dish (sorrry chicago🙃)

    Most overrated fancy food: Caviar. Fight me.

    If I could only eat at one Chicago restaurant forever: Lula Cafe.

    Death row meal: Arroz blanco con picadillo, aguacate, and ají amarillo hot sauce.

    Downtime activity that looks productive but isn’t: Writing. It’s how I disconnect.

    Last book I read: Re-reading El Libro de los Abrazos by Eduardo Galeano.

    The Bottom Line

    I’m a bilingual logistics and events consultant who’s done everything from managing national conferences to coordinating crisis response during a pandemic. I’ve built event operations from scratch, scaled underground dinners into cultural movements, and somehow always made it look easy (even when it absolutely wasn’t).

    I’m currently freelancing, job searching, and building something bigger than myself. I operate between two worlds – Chicago and Puerto Rico – and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

    The question people ask me most in networking that I’m tired of? I don’t even know anymore. But whatever it is, I’ll still answer it with a smile because that’s the job.

    That’s me. No filter, no bullshit. Just Génesis. Graciass por leerme.

    Besitos 😘

    G

  • Puerto Rico: American, But Only When It’s Convenient

    Puerto Rico: American, But Only When It’s Convenient

    Puerto Ricans Aren’t Immigrants, But We’re Still Second-Class Citizens

    Puerto Ricans aren’t immigrants—but the U.S. sure acts like we are. No presidential votes, no representation, yet we still get taxed, drafted, and expected to send billions back home. We’re American enough to serve but never enough to matter.

    I moved to the mainland, and suddenly, I wasn’t just Puerto Rican—I was an “other.” A tropical outsider. A bilingual overachiever with a permanent side hustle. I had the passport, but not the privilege.

    Second-Class Citizens Since Day One

    Puerto Ricans have been and will always be second-class citizens in the eyes of the U.S. We’re only useful for three things:

    1. Dying in their wars – The U.S. won’t let us vote for president, but we’re always first in line for the draft. Thanks, I guess?
    2. Tourism – As Bad Bunny said, “PR, archipiélago perfecto.” Our beaches are pristine, our piña coladas are cold, and as long as we’re just serving drinks and entertaining tourists, we’re tolerated. Just don’t ask for statehood, independence, or basic respect.
    3. Puerto Rico sending billions to the U.S. is the real perreo intenso—we do all the work, and they collect the check. We make the music, they take the Grammys. We build the economy, they reap the profits. Bad Bunny sells out stadiums, and the IRS still gets paid first. Ain’t that a remix?

    Welcome to the United States (Kinda, But Not Really)

    Being from Puerto Rico in the U.S. is like being part of an exclusive club with zero benefits. No voting rights in presidential elections, no representation in Congress, but don’t worry—we can still get taxed and ignored when natural disasters hit.

    We’re born into a paradox: we’re “Americans” when it’s convenient (hello, military recruitment and corporate tax loopholes), but “foreign” when it comes to resources, respect, and, let’s be honest, how people react to our names. Génesis? Too complicated. Just call me “Jennifer” and move on, I guess.

    The Job Market: Overqualified and Underestimated

    The moment you tell someone you’re from Puerto Rico, you can see their brain buffering. Do I need a visa to talk to you? Did you swim here? No, Chad, I took a Spirit Airlines flight with a 7-hour delay.

    Workplaces love a good “diverse hire” until it means hiring someone who actually knows two languages and how to make arroz con gandules without burning the kitchen down. But sure, let’s hire the guy who spent a semester in Barcelona and now claims he’s “basically fluent” in Spanish.

    The Inevitable Assimilation (Or, At Least, Pretending To)

    Sooner or later, you start code-switching like a pro. Your Spanish gets quieter in certain rooms, your accent fades just enough, and you learn to laugh when someone butchers coquito like it’s a Harry Potter spell.

    You start craving things you never thought you’d miss—gas station empanadillas, reggaetón blasting at 3 AM, and the complete and total lack of personal space at a Puerto Rican family gathering.

    But here’s the thing: no matter how much we adjust, adapt, or play along, we’ll always carry Puerto Rico with us—whether it’s in our Spanglish, our Spotify playlists, or our refusal to accept any coffee that isn’t café con leche bien hecho.

    So, am I an immigrant? Not on paper. But in every TSA line, job interview, and awkward “But where are you really from?” conversation—yeah, it sure feels like it.

    Now excuse me while I go correct someone on how to pronounce bacalaítos.

    Graciass por leerme,

    Génesis

  • Nunca Soltamos la Bandera: Reflexiones Desde “Debí Tomar Más Fotos”

    Nunca Soltamos la Bandera: Reflexiones Desde “Debí Tomar Más Fotos”

    2024 fue mi año para volver a las letras; 2025 será para capturar todo, una foto a la vez.


    Gracias a Bad Bunny por recordármelo con su nuevo álbum, Debí Tomar Más Fotos. Este disco no es solo música, es una oda a Puerto Rico. Y, tengo que decirlo, es mi disco preferido de Benito hasta ahora. By far. Benito ha logrado encapsular nuestra historia, nuestro dolor y nuestro orgullo en 17 canciones que podrían ser la banda sonora de nuestra identidad colectiva.

    La primera canción, “Nuevayol”, me rompió el corazón. Es el soundtrack para todo aquel que ha dejado Puerto Rico buscando algo mejor, pero que siempre lleva el peso de su bandera a donde va. Es una carta llena de amor, pero también de dolor, porque a veces la distancia duele más que los sacrificios. Benito nos recuerda que la diáspora puede ser fría, pero nunca deja de ser boricua.

    Y luego está “Lo Que Le Pasó a Hawaii”, una de las canciones más potentes del álbum. Aquí, Bad Bunny se adentra en la gentrificación y el desplazamiento en Puerto Rico, comparando nuestra realidad con la historia de Hawai’i. Cuando canta: “No sueltes la bandera ni olvides el lelolai, que no quiero que hagan contigo lo que le pasó a Hawai”, es imposible no sentir el peso de esas palabras. Es un grito de resistencia, un recordatorio de que somos más que playas y postales bonitas: somos cultura, historia, y lucha.

    Este álbum, en su esencia, es un trabajo de equipo, y no puedo dejar de pensar que los músicos que trabajaron junto a Bad Bunny en este proyecto son la Fania de nuestra generación. La forma en que mezclan géneros, experimentan con ritmos y le dan vida a cada nota me hace creer que estamos viviendo un renacimiento musical. Esto no es solo reguetón; es plena, salsa, jazz y hasta rock puertorriqueño en su máxima expresión.

    Después vino “Pitorro de Coco.” Es pura Navidad boricua, pero con esa melancolía que viene cuando la fiesta acaba y te quedas mirando las luces navideñas pensando en todo lo que se ha perdido.

    Por último, llegamos a “Debí Tomar Más Fotos.” Si no lloraste escuchándola, no tienes corazón. La canción no solo habla de las fotos que no tomaste, sino de las memorias que dejamos pasar por alto. Me hizo prometerme algo: voy a tomar más fotos, no por el feed de Insta, sino por mí. Porque no quiero mirar atrás y sentir que dejé pasar momentos que eran más importantes de lo que parecían en su momento.

    Debí Tomar Más Fotos no es solo un álbum; es un recordatorio de lo que somos, lo que hemos perdido y lo que podemos salvar. Benito y su equipo han capturado la esencia de Puerto Rico y nos han dejado con la tarea de nunca olvidar quiénes somos.

    Y sí, repito: es mi disco favorito de Benito. By far. Así que, ¿ya lo escuchaste? Porque este no es solo un álbum; es historia en tiempo real.

    Graciass por leerme,

    Génesis

  • Maracas, Parrandas, y Benito: How I Met Bad Bunny Before My 30th Birthday

    Maracas, Parrandas, y Benito: How I Met Bad Bunny Before My 30th Birthday

    From La Cubanita legends to La Penúltima vibes, this is the story of shaking maracas, manifesting a parranda, and vibing with Benito Antonio Martínez Ocasio—a.k.a. Bad Bunny.

    Before the past decade of wild encounters, my story with music legends kicked off with some unforgettable moments at La Cubanita, the iconic little spot that might as well have been my unofficial office. It’s where I met René Pérez (Residente) and Eduardo Cabra (Visitante) from Calle 13, two of Puerto Rico’s finest. And of course, in 2013, Roberto Roena—el maestro himself—decided I was worthy of the nickname “GinTonic,” which I proudly wore for years (though, fun fact, I don’t even drink gin or tonic anymore—growth, baby). Let’s just say La Cubanita set the tone for a life full of wild stories.

    Fast forward to my Chicago chapter, where Ruidofest (RIP) gave me the chance to work with some of the best indie Latinx artists. From Lisa of Bomba Estéreo (diva alert, pero de las buenas), Cultura Profética, Buscabulla, Gepe, and so many others, I found myself living backstage chaos, tweeting setlists, and rubbing elbows with talent that left me speechless. And yet, nothing quite prepared me for what would happen on December 5, 2023.

    It’s 11:30 PM. Thirty minutes before my 30th birthday. I walk into La Penúltima, scanning for a table in what felt like a sea of people. Spotting the only available spot—right behind Benito Antonio Martínez Ocasio (a.k.a. Bad Bunny) and his mini entourage—I thought, this is it. I sat down, pulled out my trusty maraca (because, why not?), and, without hesitation, started shaking it like a true jíbara, announcing to the universe, “¡Quiero hacer una parranda!”

    That’s when Benito turned around. Intrigued, amused, or maybe just straight-up entertained by a woman casually summoning the spirit of Christmas with a maraca in a bar, he started a conversation. People like to say, “Qué suerte tienes, Génesis.” But this wasn’t luck—it was me, my maraca, and my lifelong commitment to chaos and storytelling.

    As “Bad Bunny,” he’s untouchable. But as Benito, uf, that’s another story. I joked, “Bad Bunny me la pela,” but Benito? Ese sí que lo quiero de mejor amigo y padrino de mis hijos. His dark humor, sarcasm, and grounded energy had me hooked. He’s the same guy at La Penúltima sipping a drink with his crew as he is performing on international stages. Proud of where he comes from, funny as hell, and just a genuinely cool af person. In that moment, he felt less like a global superstar and more like a panita de Vega Baja who just happens to sell out stadiums.

    I met and had the best birthday wishes whispered into my ear by my current favorite artist to kick off my third decade on this earth in December 2023. Then, almost a year later, as I geared up to celebrate my 31st birthday, November 30, 2024, started with a call from my favorite Mexican telenovela star, Carmen Aub.

    Tu tranquilo y yo nerviosa, que estos 31 vienen buenos! ARREE.

    Gracias Totales,

    Génesis