empty space

So I was reading other people's blogs and realizing that I really have not all that much to say that would be worth reading. I
am not usually poetic, words don't usually just flow unless I am in distress. Is it better to just leave an empty space and not
speak a word when you don't have anything significant to say? Or should you say what you are thinking because you never
know who it will be significant to? Maybe it means nothing to your ears but someone else's world is shaken or challenged by
it. I wonder? What constitutes significance? Emotional pull? When something is applicable to your own life and present
situation? Seems like it. When you identify with what is being said, a person's words are alive to you. Um, I don't know where I
am going with this. I guess I was just wondering. Oh and how exactly does one read between the lines?
Sometimes I feel empty when I have to talk about race. It comes up a whole lot here and I am not one of the people who have the ability to ignore it. They won't let me. They won't ever let me forget that I am different. I don' t think I will let me forget either. But that's different. Everyday I am different, I go to class and I'm different, chapel, different, orchestra, meals, everywhere, different. I never used to think about it. I never wished I weren't different, never wished my skin wasn't brown. As a child I was told that I was beatiful and I believed it, never questioned it. Until I got older, especially when I came here. I started to question my significance and my attractiveness. I needed affirmation from somewhere to remind me that I am beautiful and worth getting to know. I am not the only one who has dealt with and is still dealing withthis struggle. All my girls have gone through it too. We hold eachother up when we need to be lifted up. What would I do without them?
My mind has been overwhelmed and darkened by the realization of the problems of race and it has seemed insurmountable, impossible and I have wanted to have the easier way out. I actually asked God why he made me mixed once. Why he made me a minority, it seemed so unfair to create me this way and then send me somewhere to college where I am different and all that I am is questioned. I felt horrible asking the Maker of the universe why he made me this way. But sometimes I wonder. Often you are not different, then you can't see the problems that different people face. I have had quite a few caucasian students ask to talk to me about race and they are so surprised at how difficult the struggle is for minority students here. They don't see the difficult situations from day to day because they can ignore it. No one reminds them that they are different, because they're not. "I really didn't think racism and racial troubles exsisted anymore", that is a common phrase I have had to have an answer to. I have hated feeling bitter and feeling hopeless. I have hated trying to fix the problems on my own. There is so much more to say, but I'll have to leave it here for now. All I know is that through the dark and heavy times God has shown his light and has reminded me that we as people cannot change the situation, nomatter how much we strive we can't change it on our own. But he can.