Sister Joannes Klas has followed her dream and made a global impact
At age 90, School Sister of St. Francis Joannes Klas – affectionately known simply as “Sister Jo” – has spent seven decades transforming hardship into hope, and applying her strong, lifelong faith in tangible acts of love across continents. She continues that ministry today, welcoming asylum-seekers at the U.S.-Mexico border.
Sister Jo was born in Fredonia, Wisconsin, one of eleven children in a Catholic farm family. Her uncle, a parish priest, recognizing her sensitivity and drive, urged her to join the School Sisters of St. Francis, a congregation renowned for teaching and global mission work. “Join them,” she remembers him telling her. “They’re the best in the world.”
She followed his advice and was received into the community in 1952, bringing with her a teacher’s heart and a penchant for singing. As a young sister, her classmates remembered her as the one who “always had a song for everything.”
Teaching was Sister Jo’s first calling, first in Waterford, Wisconsin, and then in Milwaukee. But in the late 1960s, Sister Jo began to sense that her vocation was calling her out of the classroom and into the lives of people struggling on society’s margins. In 1971, she moved to the hills of Kentucky. There, she joined other missionary sisters serving children in Head Start programs and families scraping by in the coalfields. Sister Jo helped launch a Big Brother-Big Sister program, supported striking miners, and witnessed firsthand the dignity and endurance of working families facing exploitation.
Five years later, Sister Jo’s worldview widened further when she participated in her congregation’s Living Aware program, traveling to India to immerse herself in the culture there. Experiencing the poverty, resilience, and shared faith of the people there left a permanent impression on her. “My time in India was tremendous,” she later recalled. “I went to learn, and I was taught so much.”
Returning to the United States, Sister continued her commitment to justice work as she served alongside Father Les Schmidt and the Catholic Committee of Appalachia, standing with coal miners during violent strikes. In the early 1980s, her work took her to Mississippi where she organized workshops on race and labor rights and even confronted the Ku Klux Klan during its recruitment drives. Sister Jo said that her ministry was about presence rather than comfort. “I feel most connected with God when I’m with the poor and the outcasts,” she said.
A Dream and a Calling
One night in 1981, Sister Jo woke up with an unshakable sense that she was being called to Central America. “It was as clear as if someone had spoken aloud,” she remembered. That vision soon became her life’s defining journey.
Within months, she was studying Spanish in Mexico and preparing to join Guatemalan refugees fleeing that country’s civil war. In October 1982, she arrived at a refugee camp in Honduras where 30 to 40 families crowded under a single tent. There was no electricity, no privacy, and constant danger from death squads.
Sister Jo quickly earned the trust of the people. She began organizing workshops, preparing the refugees to receive the sacraments, and creating small moments of normal life, like establishing sewing circles and music classes. She helped build a rudimentary school classroom from donated boards and plastic sheeting. “Most of the people had never been to school, so I trained those who had finished third grade to teach the others,” she recalled.
As the refugees’ years in exile dragged on, Sister Jo remained with them as a constant companion, educator, and advocate. When soldiers stormed the camp, accusing 17 men of sedition, she and other aid workers linked arms around the accused, refusing to move. They were beaten and shoved aside, but their defiance drew attention from the United Nations and ultimately helped to save lives.
In 1991, after nearly a decade in the camp, the refugees were able to return to Guatemala to rebuild their lives in their home country. Sister Jo went with them on a harrowing, four-day journey through frightening military checkpoints. Babies wailed, food was scarce, and even basic supplies were stolen from them along the way. Finally, they reached the land that would be their new home in Guatemala’s Alta Verapaz region, naming it – “St. Joseph the Treasure.”
Sister Jo’s farm roots and practical know-how came to life in her new village home. She helped families grow crops, build houses, and set up a school and health clinic. She was joined over the years by other sisters and many dedicated volunteers from Saint Patrick Parish in Hudson, Wisconsin, who became a lifeline for the villagers’ education and healthcare.
The world took notice of Sister Jo’s work. In 1997, the United Nations honored her with the Fridtjof Nansen Medal—its highest award for service to refugees. Secretary-General Kofi Annan praised her as “an example of civil society – and humanitarianism – at its very best.” The award’s prize money went straight back to the community to help build infrastructure.
Despite global acclaim, Sister Jo has always been modest about her accomplishments. “The people gave me more than I ever gave them,” she said. “Their faith was stronger than the violence that tried to destroy them.”
Building Beyond Borders
The relationship between San José El Tesoro and Saint Patrick Parish has blossomed over three decades. The parish established scholarships for hundreds of children, and many of those students have gone on to become teachers, accountants, and regional leaders. Sister Jo points out that the volunteers from Wisconsin become students themselves, learning about resilience and faith from their Guatemalan hosts. “They think they’re coming to help,” she said, “but they leave changed.”
[Read the feature article about the sister parish relationship between Saint Patrick Parish and San José El Tesoro in the Fall 2025 issue of Alive magazine, available on our website’s Publications page.]
When advancing age finally called her back to the United States, Sister Jo found a new frontier of compassion waiting for her: the U.S.–Mexico border. Now based in El Paso, Texas, she spends her days helping weary migrant families who have crossed legally and need temporary refuge. She also visits detention centers with Sister Arlene Woelfel, teaching breathing, stretching, and mindfulness techniques to help traumatized migrants process fear and grief.
Sister Jo’s vocation has taken her from the farmland of Wisconsin to Appalachian coal fields, Central America jungles, and now the Rio Grande borderlands. At each step, her focus has been to accompany people who are suffering and treat them with dignity and the love of Christ.
Mother Alexia, foundress of the School Sisters of St. Francis, said, “Whatever are the needs of the time, that is the will of God for us.” For Sister Jo, the needs of the time have always had faces: child refugees, miners’ families, migrant mothers holding babies. To each one, she has given the same gifts: her smile, her loving presence, and her unwavering faith.
Photo (Top): Sister Jo poses with scholarship students in San José El Tesoro.
Photo (Lower): Sister enjoys a classroom visit with students at Saint Patrick Catholic School in Hudson, Wisconsin.