austin, texas -- In an experiment that's opening a new front in the culture wars, a growing number of states are paying antiabortion activists to counsel women with unplanned pregnancies.
At least eight states -- including Florida, Missouri and Pennsylvania -- use public funds to subsidize crisis pregnancy centers, Christian homes for unwed mothers and other programs explicitly designed to steer women away from abortion. As a condition of the grants, counselors are often barred from referring women to any clinic that provides abortions; in some cases, they may not discuss contraception either.
Most states still spend far more money subsidizing comprehensive family planning, but the flow of tax dollars to antiabortion groups has surged in recent months, as programs have taken effect in Texas and Minnesota.
The trend alarms abortion-rights supporters, who assert that the funds would be better spent -- and would prevent more abortions -- if used to expand access to birth control. But to antiabortion activists such as Nancy McDonald, the funding is both practical and symbolic, a way of putting the state's stamp of approval on their work.
"It's a subtle thing," said McDonald, who runs five crisis pregnancy centers in South Florida. "But people seem to think if you're affiliated with the state, you must be good."
Here in Texas, the state reduced grants to a Planned Parenthood clinic in downtown Austin -- and began sending some of the money to the Roman Catholic diocese a block away.
There, in a cozy office adorned with paintings of Jesus and Mary, counselors can collect $1.05 in public funds for every minute they spend encouraging women and teens not to abort. They show clients photos of a translucent fetus; they give away maternity clothes and baby blankets. Later this month, they will begin offering a statesubsidized one-hour class on infant care.
Tax dollars cannot be used for religious purposes, but federal law permits faith-based groups to participate in government programs and protects displays of religious symbols, such as the basket of plastic rosaries at the diocese's Gabriel Project Life Center.
Amy Chestnut coordinates the Gabriel Project now, but she was once a client, pregnant at 16. The lessons she got on abstinence -- she was told to commit to a "secondary virginity" -- didn't stick; she got pregnant again at 19.
