Powerful and accurate portrayal of our lives as depicted by a student from my high school (at least something we go through feeling).
As you look at a person who is of mixed race, do you ever consider what they feel everyday? I wonder if people notice we're different from the rest of them, or that we never had a "type" with which we completely fit in. What are we supposed to call ourselves when we never really had a name? And we can't run to our parents for help because they are the ones who made us exist. It's hard acting like both black and white because those races are very different. Both are very fun in their very own different ways, but when you're hanging with your black people and white friends come up, they don't mix well, and you're stuck in the middle. I can't really say I'm jealous about someone's skin color because, like me, they didn't get to choose who they are, but I guess you can say I'm kind of envious they don't have this one little thing stressing them out.
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