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I don’t look black; I don’t look white;
ain’t that strange how DNA lies?
I am a mixed woman raised by two families;
two different worlds with two different realities.
Like tug-o-war, I’m the rope in the middle 
and my arms are hurting, everybody please let go.

To the sidelines, I linger, and watch the chaos unfold.
Where do I stand in this endless battle?
I want to help; I want racism to end too.
Black lives matter, that couldn’t be more true,
and while I may not face the same level of racism as my brothers,
it hurts me, too.

But I don’t want to protest;
I don’t want more violence;
I don’t want another bloody civil war to be our history.
I can’t watch family die—not on either side,
but with the way things are now,
everyone is getting hurt around me.

I will always fight for all the black lives
for it’s in my blood and it’s part of my identity.
But half is still half; it’s not all who I am;
I cannot be divided in these hateful times.
Why can’t I be seen for who I am?
Black lives matter—what about mine? 

How can I fit in with all of this campaigning 
when I don’t even have a true identity? 
This generation has created more diversity
yet it’s still all black and white on legalities.
I want my children to feel like they fit in
and not ever have to worry if this country even acknowledges them.

We represent the new America;
I must fight for what this country could become:
A harmonious blend of privilege and color;
One community with shared comforts.
I want equality among all diversity;
I want all of us to feel like a valued part of society.

So whether you’re black, native, or biracial, 
mixed with white, Asian, or Latino,
as people of color, we must stand together.
We fight for the same cause;
let’s not be white-washed;
and be seen and told that our lives matter.
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