Biracial in America
Identity is rarely simple, but for those of us navigating multiple racial worlds simultaneously, it becomes a constant negotiation—a daily exercise in translation, adaptation, and often, invisibility. As a biracial person in America, I've spent much of my life in the spaces between categories, learning to code-switch, to belong nowhere entirely while existing everywhere partially. This project emerges from that experience and from a growing recognition that too many biracial voices remain unheard, their complex realities flattened or erased by a culture that demands we choose sides in a binary that was never designed to hold us.
I was born in 1965 at Cook County Hospital in Chicago, Illinois—Shawn O. Smith, son of two worlds. Growing up as a military dependent meant constant relocation across the globe, exposure to vastly different cultures, and an early education in adaptability. My friendships spanned diverse racial and cultural backgrounds, which felt natural in the fluid, international context of military communities. Yet even within that diversity, I found myself subconsciously navigating social situations with a singular, often exhausting goal: to fit in.
The desire for acceptance is universal, but for biracial individuals, that pressure intensifies. We learn early to read rooms, to adjust our presentation, and to emphasize certain aspects of our heritage while downplaying others, depending on the context. It's a survival skill born from existing in a society structured around racial binaries that leave little room for mixed identities. For much of my life, I rarely spoke openly about race—not because it didn't profoundly shape my experience, but because naming that complexity felt risky, isolating, or simply futile.
Today's climate of heightened racial division and political polarization has made this navigation even more challenging. Finding one's authentic space becomes difficult when the cultural conversation demands allegiance to singular identities. Many within the biracial community want connection and dialogue but remain cautious or afraid of sharing their truths, uncertain whether their experiences will be validated or dismissed.
This photographic project creates the space I wish had existed throughout my journey—a platform for biracial voices to be heard, seen, and validated without apology or explanation. Through portraiture and personal narrative, I'm documenting diverse biracial experiences, allowing each person's story to exist in its full complexity and contradiction. My technical approach emphasizes direct engagement, featuring straightforward portraits paired with first-person testimonies that honor each subject's unique journey through identity.
The objective isn't to find universal conclusions or neat resolutions about what it means to be biracial in America. Instead, I aim to spark curiosity, develop empathy, and create awareness by simply listening and sharing. When we hear each other's stories without judgment, we begin to appreciate that everyone's journey is different and equally important—that identity isn't something to be solved but something to be honored in all its messy, beautiful complexity.
I am Shawn O. Smith.
I am biracial.