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This tiny school district has a chaplain, public prayers and a lesson for Texas

This tiny school district has a chaplain, public prayers and a lesson for Texas

Yahoo27-03-2025

LOUISE — By the time school counselor April Cubriel huddled around a small table with a pair of eighth graders on a recent Monday afternoon, she had a good sense of what was on kids' minds at the Louise Independent School District, a 519-student district rooted in a Gulf Coast rice farming town unmarred by traffic lights.
The high schoolers hoped for safe travels to the Houston Rodeo and a girls' powerlifting competition. The elementary crowd worried about a few bruising falls from the monkey bars. And everyone, it seemed, had test anxiety.
But at the junior high, eighth graders Ava Tiller and Bristol Kulcak said, the problem was the drama, the shards of gossip and petty half-truths that splintered friendships. Cubriel nodded knowingly.
Then she said something you don't hear from public school counselors.
'How can you turn that into a positive with a prayer?' Cubriel asked the girls as they fidgeted with their pencils, staring at the blank page where a plea to a higher power should be. 'Remember, when you're praying, you're asking God to help us to do better.'
Prayer? In public schools? Cubriel might as well wear a button that says: 'It's OK. I'm a chaplain.'
In a state that lets religious chaplains do the work of trained school counselors, Cubriel is that rare creature who is both. She has a master's degree in counseling and 24 years in public schools — first as a teacher and instructional coach, then the last 7 years as a counselor. Last year she earned her chaplain certification with the encouragement of the Louise school board, which saw a benefit in having that type of in-house support in the event of a tragedy. The district even paid for her certification.
Cubriel, who is Baptist, is one of the few chaplains on any Texas school district's payroll since the Legislature passed the school chaplains bill in 2023.
Related:
Critics of the school chaplain bill rightly objected to the notion that lightly trained chaplains, no matter how sincere, could replace the mental health expertise of licensed counselors. Cubriel showed the measure could work another way: A licensed counselor could expand her toolkit with chaplain training, to provide spiritual support to those who want it.
'It is a small community, but we have families that are going through just as many things as you would in a big city,' said Cubriel, noting three school families have lost a parent in the past year, while two other fathers suffered debilitating work injuries. 'Just being able to talk about their faith and pray with them and just be there to support them, that's really how I've used this (chaplain) certification.'
What did your district decide?
But it's no surprise that the Louise district, situated halfway between Houston and Corpus Christi, took a bold approach when the Legislature put out the welcome mat for school chaplains. As Texas lawmakers once again press for a greater religious presence in public schools — with bills this session to put the Ten Commandments into classrooms and provide dedicated prayer time for students and teachers — Louise ISD is practically there.
Take prayer in school.
The Louise district has included student-led prayers with the daily announcements for years, long before Cubriel became a chaplain. The elementary students offer their own prayers at the morning assembly in the cafeteria. The junior high and high school students read prayers they've written over the public address system, after the U.S. and Texas pledges.
"Dear Heavenly Father, I pray for the health and protection of all students and staff," 11th grader Kennedy Long-Brown said on a recent Monday. "I pray you keep us protected with all the sickness going around. I pray everyone is safe on their way to their game. In Jesus' name I pray, Amen."
As chaplain, Cubriel helps the young volunteers reflect on what they want to say.
'At their sports events, they had students leading prayers before games. When our students travel, the coaches usually do a prayer before they leave,' Cubriel told me. 'This is a very conservative area, and that is very important to them. And it really wasn't a question of, 'Are we going to do (school prayers)?' It was, 'This is what we do. Come on in.''
Dale Carpenter, a constitutional law expert at Southern Methodist University's Dedman School of Law, told me the district is 'flirting with an unconstitutional practice,' given Supreme Court rulings dating back to the 1960s finding that public schools cannot lead students in prayer.
Even student-led activities have limits: In the 2000 case Santa Fe ISD v. Doe, the court found that student-led prayers before high school football games still amounted to an improper government endorsement of religion, as the school district provided the platform and the loudspeakers for the invocation.
But conservatives are hoping today's Supreme Court, having affirmed a Washington football coach's right to silently pray at the 50-yard-line, will be even more permissive the next time a school prayer case comes its way. In the meantime, Carpenter suspects prayer in school 'is quietly going on all around the country, in little school districts where nobody's there to object.'
'It takes a lot for students and their parents to speak up,' Carpenter noted. Especially in a small town.
Louise school Superintendent Richard Wright knows school prayer is controversial, but he's not exactly worried about state officials stepping in. "I mean, they're putting the Ten Commandments in school," he told me. "That pretty much says everything."
And while Wright said prayer would be problematic for more diverse school districts, he said it's woven into the cultural fabric in Louise, where he estimates 85% to 90% of the families attend church.
'We're very homogeneous in terms of our Christianity," said Wright, who became superintendent this school year. "So the community embraces that, and it's a positive thing.'
In his view, that's the test that matters: What the community wants. If, for example, a new plant came to town and drew a bunch of new families with different backgrounds, Wright said the district would reevaluate whether its practices were accepted or causing division. But he said it should be up to the local school board to decide.
'We're in a time these days where everybody wants to force their opinions and their values on other people,' Wright said. 'Let Louise ISD govern itself, have our own set of values, our own set of guiding principles that are good for us.'
Of course, he saw the irony. With the 2023 school chaplain bill, the Legislature required every school district in Texas to vote on a policy. With the Ten Commandments bill this session, such classroom displays would become mandatory.
Religion should never be legislated. Yet lawmakers have found it makes for irresistible politics.
None of which interests Cubriel. As a counselor, and now in her added duties as a chaplain, she finds joy in helping students find their way. She said she doesn't get into any religious doctrine. She just speaks of God's love and support with those who believe in those things, too.
Cubriel's guiding question for those writing the school prayers — 'What do you think your classmates need help with?' — is about getting people 'to think outside of themselves,' she said.
Which, for all our differences, should be a welcome lesson anywhere we can find it.
Grumet is the Statesman's Editorial Page Editor. Her column contains her opinions. Share yours via email at bgrumet@statesman.com, or via X or Bluesky at @bgrumet. Find her previous work at statesman.com/opinion/columns.
This article originally appeared on Austin American-Statesman: Louise ISD shows chaplains as counselor is possible in Texas | Opinion

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The murals 'speak to a unique time in history, World War II and immigration and social justice,' says the Rev. Nicholas Vaskov, director of the Shrines of Pittsburgh, a cluster of historic Catholic parishes that includes St. Nicholas. 'To allow them to continue to speak to people and to see that they are preserved is a great gift.' In January, the crew worked a section that includes the tempestuous Moses and two Gospel scribes in placid poses, St. Matthew and St. Mark. 'One of my favorite things about being a conservator is that I get to touch things that no one has been able to touch for over, what, 70 years?' says Naomi Ruiz, a wall paintings expert. 'You really get to see the artist's brushstrokes, his original hand, his struggle when he's trying to reach off of his scaffold to reach that last little part. It makes you even want to work harder and longer.' Challenges loomed. They were working on the side of the church that takes the most sunlight, which has caused more damage, from fluctuations in temperature and humidity. An artist who crossed social classes Maksimilijan Vanka was born in 1889 in what is now independent Croatia. An out-of-wedlock son of nobility, Vanka was raised by a peasant woman, Dora Jugova. She became the prototype for Vanka's recurring artistic motif of strong, maternal and pious women — such as the sturdy Madonna he depicted with work-worn hands in one of the church's most prominent murals. Vanka's noble family eventually provided him an education. His familiarity with both privilege and poverty gave him insight and sensitivity to people across social classes. Vanka studied in Belgium and served with the Red Cross during World War I. He immigrated to the United States in the 1930s after marrying an American, Margaret Stetten. A Pittsburgh exhibit of Vanka's art caught the attention of the late Rev. Albert Zagar, pastor of St. Nicholas. The church had been rebuilt after a fire, its walls now blank and waiting for the right artist. 'They'd found their person,' said Anna Doering, executive director of the Society to Preserve the Millvale Murals of Maxo Vanka. Vanka transformed the sanctuary in two intense seasons of creativity, in 1937 and 1941. He fused traditional Catholic iconography with searing commentary on war, capitalism, and immigrant labor and contrasting depictions of communal piety and economic greed. 'It's religion, expressed in our social life,' Zagar said in 1941. 'At the same time, it's completely Catholic.' Vanka continued his artistic career until his tragic death in 1963, when he drowned off the coast of Mexico while on vacation. Preserving a local treasure In the decades since, parishioners have cherished the murals, caring for them as best they knew how. More formal conservation efforts began in 1991, when the artist's admirers formed the Society to Preserve the Millvale Murals of Maxo Vanka. By 2009, the society was ready to launch professional work in earnest — preserving one mural at a time. Doering recalls when she first set foot in the church as a consultant. 'My jaw just dropped,' she said. 'I had never seen anything like this. And I wanted to be part of it.' Locals and foundations alike donated. The society also worked with the parish to repair the roof and upgrade climate control systems. In 2022, the society was awarded a $471,670 grant through the Save America's Treasures program, administered by the National Park Service, enabling recent work on the upper part of the church. A process of art and science The conservation workers began by brushing and vacuuming off loose dirt and soot. They did further cleaning with sponges and cotton swabs by the thousands. Much of the grime, Ruiz said, likely resulted from years of atmospheric pollution, ranging from Pittsburgh's former steel mills to everyday highway traffic. The crew also worked to reverse damage to the plaster caused by atmospheric salts. For Ruiz, the murals have universal themes. 'This story that Vanka was telling was specifically for the Croatian people, but it could also speak towards many immigrant families here in the U.S. and how they felt and how they brought a lot of their culture with them,' she said. An unusual field trip Along with conservation work, the society does educational outreach, bringing in student field trips in tandem with the LIGHT Education Initiative, a Pittsburgh-area program with a mission to equip 'the next generation of humanitarians.' Becky Gaugler, director of education and interpretation for the preservation society, welcomed visiting sixth graders from a nearby school earlier this spring. She told them the murals show 'how we can talk about our own stories in relation to those stories in the past.' One student group gathered beneath two contrasting dinner scenes. In one, a modest family prays over a simple meal of bread and soup. In another, a top-hatted millionaire dines alone, indifferent to the beggar at his feet as an angel weeps. The students debated which table they'd rather join. The rich man has better food, they noted, but the family appears more hospitable. 'They are very grateful obviously for what they have,' observed sixth-grader Corinne Coppler. Seeing the big picture Vaskov said the murals remain central to the parish's identity. Though most services are now in English, the parish still holds a monthly Croatian-language Mass and celebrates other ethnic traditions. The scaffolding supporting the conservation work posed 'a temporary inconvenience to reveal something marvelous,' Vaskov said. It finally came down in late May, in time for the parish's 125th anniversary Mass on June 1. Most of the murals have now undergone conservation. More work lies ahead, but it made an opportunity to savor the latest results. 'When you're up there, you really get caught up in every little spot,' Ruiz said. 'Then I look at the big picture. It's so much better than how it was four months ago. It looks so solid. All the colors just pop.' ___ AP photographer Gene Puskar and AP videographer Jessie Wardarski contributed. ___ Associated Press religion coverage receives support through the AP's collaboration with The Conversation US, with funding from Lilly Endowment Inc. The AP is solely responsible for this content. Error! Sorry, there was an error processing your request. There was a problem with the recaptcha. Please try again. You may unsubscribe at any time. By signing up, you agree to our terms of use and privacy policy . 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