Vaccination race enlists aides to fight mistrust
His last job was selling cars, but in his new gig, working to turn the tide against a pandemic, Herman Simmons knows not to be too pushy or overbearing.
He’s one of more than 50 outreach workers a Chicago hospital has enlisted to promote vaccination against COVID-19 in hard-hit Black and brown neighborhoods.
Their job is approaching strangers at laundromats, grocery stores and churches, handing out educational mate- rial and making vaccination appointments for those who are willing.
“I see myself as my broth- er’s keeper. I don’t try to force them. I’m persistent,” he said.
Top U.S. health officials say they’re in a race to vaccinate as many people as quickly as possible as COVID-19 variants spread, mask and distancing rules are relaxed, and Amer- icans crave a return to normalcy.
As part of these efforts, the Biden administration announced Thursday it will invest nearly $10 billion to expand vaccine access in com- munities of color, rural areas, low-income populations and other underserved communities. Some of the money will go to community health cen- ters. Funding comes mostly from the American Rescue Plan.
While the U.S. is vaccinating roughly 2.5 million peo- ple daily and nearly 1 in 3 adults have received at least one shot, roughly that many say they are skeptical or won’t get vaccinated.
“There will be a hard core that never want to be vaccinated and we can’t do anything about that,” said Dr. Eric Toner, a senior scholar at Johns Hopkins Center for Health Security.
He said that number is unlikely to prevent effective control of the virus. To make sure it doesn’t, authorities are working to change minds and boost access in minority communities where skepticism is among the hurdles to vaccination.
They’re showcasing Black leaders getting shots, preaching vaccination benefits at Sunday services, holding Zoom meetings where experts dismantle the myths. Michigan is enlisting barber shops and salons. Mobile clinics have been set up to vaccinate Kentucky racetrack workers and California migrant workers.
In the socially distanced age of COVID-19, the in-thetrenches work of regular folk-turned-recruiters stands out.
Simmons is Black, amiable and talkative — a natural for this kind of work.
“I tell ’em I was a little afraid at first” about getting the shots, said Simmons, who quit the car dealership when co-workers got sick with the virus. He tells them he has friends and family members who’ve died, and how easy it is to sign up.
Sometimes it’s a tough sell. “I would like to say that I get more sign-ins than not,” Simmons said, “but I don’t think that’s the case.”
“They don’t trust it. Some think the vaccines were made too quickly to be safe,” he said. “They feel like lab rats.”