You are here
How community leaders in Alabama and Mississippi are trying to shrink the racial disparities in vaccine access.
Primary tabs
PANOLA, Ala. — The dog-eared trailer that serves as the only convenience store within 20 miles of this blink-and-you-miss-it rural hamlet, population 144, is more than a place to stock up on life’s essentials. These days the store — or more precisely its proprietor, Dorothy Oliver — has become an unofficial logistics hub for African-American residents seeking the coronavirus vaccine.
Even as vaccine supplies in Alabama have become more plentiful, Ms. Oliver’s neighbors, many of them older and poor, lack the smartphones and internet service needed to book appointments. And if they manage to secure a slot, they may not have a way to get to distant vaccination sites.
Ms. Oliver helps her neighbors snag appointments online and matches them with those willing to make the 45-minute drive to Livingston, the seat of Sumter County and the nearest town offering inoculations. Nearly three-quarters of the residents of the county, which includes Panola, are African-American. ...
Across the Southern states, Black doctors, Baptist preachers and respected community figures like Ms. Oliver are trying to combat lingering vaccine skepticism while also helping people overcome logistical hurdles that have led to a troubling disparity in vaccination rates between African-Americans and whites.
Though local leaders have made headway combating the hesitancy, they say the bigger obstacles are structural: the large stretches of Alabama and Mississippi without an internet connection or reliable cellphone service, the paucity of medical providers, and a medical establishment that has long overlooked the health care needs of African-Americans.
As it is, this region has some of the worst health outcomes in the country, and the coronavirus pandemic has disproportionately hit African-Americans, who have been dying at twice the rate of whites.
The disparities have prompted a flurry of ad hoc organizing across the South that mirrors the increasingly robust get-out-the-vote efforts, which are aimed at surmounting state voting restrictions that critics say dampen minority turnout.
In Cleveland, Miss., Pam Chatman, a retired television journalist has been dispatching rented minibuses to ferry older residents to vaccination sites far from their rural homes. In nearby Greenville, the Rev. Thomas Morris uses his weekly Zoom sermons to assuage the concerns of vaccine skeptics — and then offers up church volunteers who book appointments for the flip phone set. And in central Alabama, Dr. John B. Waits, who oversees a constellation of nonprofit health clinics serving the poor, has been sending out mobile vaccinators to reach the homebound and the homeless. ...
ALSO SEE: In Alabama, the scramble to get vaccines to the people in greatest need
Recent Comments