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What radical courage does it take to love in the face of hate? Through portraiture and personal narratives highlighting joy, belonging, found family and meaningful romantic and platonic relationships, KBIA’s Alphabet Soup challenges the notion that Missouri’s LGBTQ+ community is a monolith.Tucked away within the amalgamation of letters that makes up the LGBTQ+ community and the complex identities each represents is joy: rebellious, resistant, radiant. If you have a story you would like to share, visit https://tinyurl.com/LGBTQJoy or contact news@kbia.org.Created by Bailey Stover.

Mace Hoover: "I owe a lot... as far as my transness to that group of kids because they were just awesome."

Mace Hoover, who is a queer, transgender man, sits on his couch on Wednesday, May 22, 2024, at his apartment in Columbia. “I love that queer is an umbrella because in my experience and for me, some days I feel like a little feminine boy, and some days I feel like a really masculine boy, and some days I just want to ignore what my gender euphoria or dysphoria is telling me. And I love that I can kind of be on the spectrum and not just sit there, and I can feel whichever way I want, which I don't think is necessarily easy for everybody. But that's why I love that's why I love ‘queer’ because it really can mean whatever I want it to mean. And that's important to me because, again, nobody else has experienced what I have, and nobody else can tell me how I feel,” Hoover said. “When I have a student come to me and say, ‘Hey, I think I want to go by this name,’ or ‘Hey, I don't use those pronouns anymore,’ that’s queer joy. They felt comfortable enough—in a way that I didn't get to experience as a middle schooler or junior high kid—they felt comfortable enough telling somebody. And even if I'm not the first person that they told, they're able to do that. And at least with me, they're safe with it. I'm going to do whatever I can to make sure that they know that they're acknowledged and they're accepted.”
Bailey Stover/KBIA
Mace Hoover, who is a queer, transgender man, sits on his couch on Wednesday, May 22, 2024, at his apartment in Columbia. “I love that queer is an umbrella because in my experience and for me, some days I feel like a little feminine boy, and some days I feel like a really masculine boy, and some days I just want to ignore what my gender euphoria or dysphoria is telling me. And I love that I can kind of be on the spectrum and not just sit there, and I can feel whichever way I want, which I don't think is necessarily easy for everybody. But that's why I love that's why I love ‘queer’ because it really can mean whatever I want it to mean. And that's important to me because, again, nobody else has experienced what I have, and nobody else can tell me how I feel,” Hoover said. “When I have a student come to me and say, ‘Hey, I think I want to go by this name,’ or ‘Hey, I don't use those pronouns anymore,’ that’s queer joy. They felt comfortable enough—in a way that I didn't get to experience as a middle schooler or junior high kid—they felt comfortable enough telling somebody. And even if I'm not the first person that they told, they're able to do that. And at least with me, they're safe with it. I'm going to do whatever I can to make sure that they know that they're acknowledged and they're accepted.”

Mace Hoover is a 25-year-old trans man, as well as a former teacher. He spoke about how he supported his students during that time, but also about how they have supported and inspired him.

Alphabet Soup shares LGBTQ+ Missourians’ stories through portraiture and personal narratives.

Mace Hoover: I started doing my student teaching here in Columbia at one of the high schools, and so many of the kids were very vocal and out about their gender and sexuality.

And I remember, at the time, kids were telling me their pronouns when I would call their name out, because I still didn't know them too well, and at the end of roll call for one of the classes, I had a student ask me, “What are your pronouns?”

And I was like, “Uh… um, I don't know. I have no idea.”

And the fact that all of them were ready to hear what I had to say, like, they were, like, prepared for whatever I was gonna throw at them.

Mace Hoover holds a cross stitch of a trans pride flag bearing his name on Wednesday, May 22, 2024, at his apartment in Columbia. “My friend Tim, another queer music teacher in Columbia, made it for me. He was one of the first people I told when I came out and felt safe enough to tell because he himself was queer, but I had also watched him encourage and support his students in their identities as well,” Hoover said. “Music has gotten me through every step in this journey. Since I was a child, I think I was, for lack of a better word, singing before I could speak in a lot of ways. … So music’s always been a really big part of who I am and who I was meant to be, I believe.”
Bailey Stover/KBIA
Mace Hoover holds a cross stitch of a trans pride flag bearing his name on Wednesday, May 22, 2024, at his apartment in Columbia. “My friend Tim, another queer music teacher in Columbia, made it for me. He was one of the first people I told when I came out and felt safe enough to tell because he himself was queer, but I had also watched him encourage and support his students in their identities as well,” Hoover said. “Music has gotten me through every step in this journey. Since I was a child, I think I was, for lack of a better word, singing before I could speak in a lot of ways. … So music’s always been a really big part of who I am and who I was meant to be, I believe.”

And the fact that they, the students themselves, these high schoolers, were talking about it and out with their friends and out with their family and super, just like, brave – honestly, that's the best word for it. I was like, “Why am I not allowing myself to at least figure this out?”

I owe a lot of where I'm at right now as far as my transness to that group of kids because they were just awesome.

One of the reasons I'm glad that I went into education, and I have been a teacher for the last two years, is that I could be the representation that I didn't get as a kid.

When I was in high school and throughout school, everyone thought that our choir teacher at the time, – well, one of the choir teachers – was gay, but we didn't know for sure. They never talked about it. They never mentioned their partner, nothing, and I found out in college that that teacher was gay in fact.

My point to that is I never saw it in adults, I didn't really see it in other kids, and now, like, me being in education, I get to be that for other kids.

When I have a student come to me and say, “Hey, I think I want to go by this name” or “Hey, like, I don't use those pronouns anymore,” that's queer joy, you know?

Like they felt comfortable enough – in a way that I didn't get to experience as a middle schooler or a junior high kid, like, they felt comfortable enough telling somebody.

And even if I'm not the first person that they told, like, they're able to do that, you know, and, at least with me, they're safe with it, you know? Like I'm going to, I'm going to do whatever I can to make sure that they know that they're acknowledged and they're accepted.

Bailey Stover is a multimedia journalist who graduated in May 2024. She is the creator and voice of "Alphabet Soup," which runs weekly on KBIA.
Rebecca Smith is an award-winning reporter and producer for the KBIA Health & Wealth Desk. Born and raised outside of Rolla, Missouri, she has a passion for diving into often overlooked issues that affect the rural populations of her state – especially stories that broaden people’s perception of “rural” life.
Nick Sheaffer is the photo editor for KBIA's Alphabet Soup. He graduated with a Bachelor's in Journalism from the University of Missouri in May 2024.
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