Leaders need to work to build trust in vaccine
I can admit now, I might have actually flinched like a kid getting a flu shot when my eldest son, a strapping 23-year-old young man, called me an “anti-vaxxer” when he heard that I delayed his birth vaccines. Today I cannot imagine myself as the kind of person who denies my child life-saving vaccinations.
Only, in this case, at one time, I actuallywas that kind of person.
Back in the late-90s, when almost all of my friends were young, single reporters, I tried to prepare for impending motherhood by immersing myself in parenting books and magazines. Without easy access to the Internet, Iwas reading earth-mother magazines and starting to dig up the still somewhat new studies linking vaccination to autism and diabetes.
Doubts were sown and, just like that, my husband and I decided to delay vaccinating our first child.
We only held out for his first few weeks of life. Initially, my pediatrician tried to gently convince us to stick to the standard immunization schedule. And then she threatened to refuse care if we didn’t concede. Sowe gave in.
In essence, we were corralled into herd immunity. By the time our second and third babies came along in 2000 and 2005, we were on the vaccine bandwagon. By this time the faulty science indicating a correlation between vaccines and serious diseases had been debunked. When our second and third sons came along, the sciencewas clear that the vaccine regimen recommended by our doctorwas safe.
I’m unsettled by thememorynow, as that now-23-year-old son could tell when, taking a jab of his own, he called me out onmy early parenting blunder.
Recalling those decisions made in the nine months leading up to having my first child helps me understand the hesitation many have in this moment, nine long months into a pandemic when all eyes are on the vaccinations being rolled out all around theworld.
Some of us look to vaccination and see hope and the possibility of reclaimed freedom; others, whose past experience has taught them to be wary of medical institutions, see a kind of trap. Both voices were part of a public webinar the county health department held last week that focused on the concerns of Black and brown people who have suffered massive losses during this pandemic.
Pew Research and Gallup surveys show that only about half to 58 percent of respondents told researchers they would get a COVID-19 vaccine, a number that falls short of the minimum 70% needed to reach herd immunity and keep the virus from rampant spread. That number drops to 32 percent for Black adults.
Apostle Craig Coates, pastor of Fresh Start Church in Annapolis, has talked with many who are skeptical about everything from the long-term health impacts of the new vaccine to the side effects. He has heard from older people who trace their skepticism to the very real spectre of 600 men who were injected with syphilis and allowed to suffer without treatment in the Tuskegee experiments that began in 1932 and went on for 40 years. He hears from young people who are watching NFL players run back on the field two weeks after recovering fromcoronavirus.
“People are not convinced that this is a goodmove,” Coates told the other panelists on a recent webinar. “A lot of people are waiting until the next round to see if this makes you quack like a duck after they’ve had it.”
It’s not easy to follow science, with its evolving data and complicated jargon. And, of course, there is the fear — elevated in unequal part by historic wrongs and a growing number of science fiction narratives — that powerless people will be made guinea pigs, subject to betrayal by an untrustworthy government.
I have to give my then-pediatrician, Dr. Elizabeth Fronc, a lot of credit. She heardus out. She validated our instinct to protect. And then, in just three short weeks, she showed us with her gentle and calming care for our scrawny, jaundiced new son the
persuasive power of trust.
It was a trust built on wisdom that came not from anecdotal narratives in parenting magazines, but froma hard-earned medical degree, a vast arsenal of knowledge and a grasp of the science of vaccination which has prevented outbreaks for decades.
That is the kind of trust that leaders throughout the county are going to have to build ifwe ever hope to reach a state of herd immunity with coronavirus.
Dr. Marcee White, a pediatrician on the county’s health equity panel, said that because most of her job entails vaccinating children, she iswell aware of what a leap of faith it often requires to convince parents to vaccinate.
Thoughchildren are not yet approvedfor the coronavirus vaccine, she said the lessons for the health community remain the same.
“Pediatricians in the community are well-versed in vaccine hesitancy and what it takes to overcome some fears and anxiety and Google searches around vaccines and side effects,” she said.
I’m glad the county is starting now to build a strong, consistent message around the new vaccines. County health officer Dr. Nilesh Kalyanaman promised to present more online public forums in the future in order to confront rumors and share information.
As it turns out, nine months of expectancy can gestate a lot of things, including serious doubts about the trustworthiness of anything the governmentwants us to put in our bodies. But there is time now to reach out to the experts and allay all of those concerns. That is good because, realistically, it will probably be nine months before most of us will get to choose to be vaccinated or not.
Formypart, I will gratefully take the stick and getmy vaccine whenmy time comes.
But I understand the tension that exists among those who want to wait-and-see how the first few rounds of this brand-new prevention perform.
Because I was once a denier. And then, like the science that girds and guides us, new evidence changedmy stance.