Confirming fears of inequity in COVID-19 vaccinations, newly released state data shows that Black and Hispanic Illinoisans so far have been vaccinated at half the rate of white residents.
And nearly three weeks after the state opened up shots to all senior citizens, a Tribune analysis of vaccination and census data shows wide variation in how many seniors have gotten shots. A handful of counties have gotten a first shot into at least half of those 65 and older, but the vast majority have not, including some where 9 in 10 seniors have yet to get a first shot.
The state Department of Public Health released the demographic data Friday, becoming one of the last states to do so.
While the data offers no explanation for the disparities, the racial and ethnic divide tracks with the concerns of health officials and equity advocates who say a higher share of Black and Hispanic residents might have a harder time lining up shots, or might be wary of taking them because of past discrimination.
“You have to put in a lot more work in order to make this as equal as possible,” said Afya Khan, infection control practitioner at Loretto Hospital on Chicago’s Far West Side. “Our team members have been pushing themselves to get the word out. It can’t be done through just an online database.”
The Tribune’s analysis shows that as of Friday, 11% of white residents had gotten at least one dose of the two-dose regimen of vaccine shots. The same was true of just 5% of Black residents and 4% of Hispanic residents.
For those over 65 of any race or ethnicity, 26.9% had gotten a first shot. Of Illinoisans ages 16 to 64, 8.8% had gotten a first shot.
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After touring a Cook County vaccination site in Chicago Heights Friday, Gov. J.B. Pritzker said his administration continues to “weave equity” into the state’s vaccine rollout goals.
The governor said his administration’s decisions to expand phase 1b eligibility to people under 65 with preexisting conditions and to partner with federally qualified health centers will help mitigate inequalities.
“People with underlying conditions are disproportionately low-income and nonwhite,” the governor said, adding that the eligibility expansion is “the right thing to do” for those with comorbidities like cancer and heart disease.
He said the state’s vaccination plan further supports underserved communities through the Illinois National Guard vaccination assistance program, the deployment of federal disaster teams and the COVID-19 mitigation awareness campaign, which focuses “on reducing hesitancy and sharing facts in multiple languages.”
“Already we’ve seen our vaccinated population look more and more like the population of Illinois, especially since we began phase 1b,” he said. “Illinois has one of the strongest equity efforts of any large state in the country but we still have so much work to do, there’s no doubt, to ensure that people of color get vaccinated.”
The Pritzker administration also announced that a month from now, as more vaccine becomes available, it will increasingly direct shipments to clinics in underserved areas.
And while it acknowledged the vaccine inequity, the administration argued the problem was one affecting states across the country, and that Illinois’ figures were not as bad as those found in other highly populated states.
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No surprise
But the numbers did not surprise Dr. Maya Green, South Side regional medical director at Howard Brown Health. She said she has heard the same tale of racial inequalities in other health crises such as diabetes and the HIV/AIDS epidemic.
“This isn’t new,” she said. “This isn’t a shock to me. This is what communities of color have bared the brunt of since we came to this country. If we really want to undo this narrative, then we have to move from shock to action. The numbers are there. The question is: What are we ready to do about it?”
The Rev. Emma Lozano of Pilsen’s Lincoln United Methodist Church was cautiously hopeful last year when she asked members of her church whether they would get the coronavirus vaccine once it became available. Nearly all said yes: Many had lost loved ones to the disease that has disproportionately killed Latinos in Chicago.
But that hope faded when phase 1b opened, making the vaccine available to people 65 or older and front-line essential workers. Churchgoers reported struggling with technological and language barriers and websites that said no appointments were available, Lozano said.
She said she’s skeptical that vaccine hesitancy explains the disparity, as people at her church have been clamoring for appointments: The church is keeping a list of attendees eligible to receive the vaccine that has reached 300.
“When there’s a ration, it’s almost like it goes to the most important first, and we all know where we line up in that on that totem pole,” Lozano said. “I just think it’s so unfair.”
U.S. Rep. Jesús “Chuy” García, who represents heavily Hispanic neighborhoods in Chicago and Cook County, blamed the disparity on “long-standing, systemic inequities … including hospital and pharmacy deserts, language barriers, and fears of deportation when seeking medical assistance.”
‘Alarmingly low’
Loretto Hospital has made a concerted effort to promote the vaccines in the predominantly Black community, partnering with local clinics and other organizations to build its registration list.
Given the mandate from city and state officials to get the shots into as many Black and brown arms as possible, Khan was disappointed by the statewide data.
“The percentages are alarmingly low,” Khan said. “The main goal was to take care of the communities that were hit the hardest. This is where we, as hospitals and providers, need to step up and continue to answer questions, listen to concerns and find the hesitancy. There’s no reason to be scared. All we want to do is save your life.”
Loretto schedules appointments only for people who live, work and receive regular medical treatment in the city, Khan said, but has received inquiries from suburbanites after it appeared on an online list of Chicago hospitals with access to the vaccine.
Dr. Marina Del Rios, who in December became the first Illinois resident to receive the vaccine, believes it’s inaccurate to blame the inequity on vaccine hesitancy in communities of color.
As the social emergency medicine director at the University of Illinois Hospital, she has seen concerns about the vaccines’ safety ebb since December, while the sense of frustration and confusion over how to schedule an appointment has soared.
“I’ve seen my own colleagues make appointments for their parents and grandparents because they know how to work computers,” she said. “They have the time to sit down and have multiple browsers open. That’s not necessarily something our Black and Latino population, especially those who are essential workers, can do for their parents and grandparents. They don’t have the time for that or even the resources.”
William Hall, staff chaplain at the social services organization UCAN, said that beyond appointments being scarce, people in the South and West Side communities he works in do not have the time and resources to get the shot.
To trek to a pharmacy or clinic often requires more time than the 30-minute lunch break some essential workers are given, or it causes a gap in child care parents cannot fill, he said. Moreover, some residents struggle with internet access.
“My reaction to it is simply this: poverty has taken the vaccine out of arm’s reach,” Hall said. “As much as we are fighting to get more quantity of the vaccine, let’s fight this systemic thing, which is poverty, that’s preventing us from getting these vaccines.”
The vaccination disparities are not fair to hard-hit, majority nonwhite communities, said Dolores Castañeda, a community activist in Little Village and research associate for the University of Illinois at Chicago’s School of Public Health.
“It’s not fair for us to see the vaccine go to other communities who really not be in danger like us,” said Castañeda, who said she’s “constantly” getting calls from residents about sick family members or about funerals.
She suggested ramping up public education initiatives to help people understand the vaccine and how to get one, and posting easy-to-understand, translated information in places like laundromats, grocery stores and churches where residents are more likely to see them.
Jorge Mújica, an organizer at workers-rights organization Arise Chicago, suggested that a multilanguage call center or radio-based information campaigns in multiple languages could make information more accessible to those who don’t have good internet access or don’t speak English.
But most accessible, Mújica said, would be on-site workplace vaccination.
“Don’t wait for them to go to a vaccination center,” he said.
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Success and failure
Peoria County is a study in the complexities of vaccine distribution.
On one hand, 75% of those 65 and older have received their first vaccinations — the highest percentage in the state. On the other, it is seeing extreme racial disparities, with 25% of white residents vaccinated compared with 8% of Black residents and 6% of Hispanic residents.
Monica Hendrickson, public health administrator of the Peoria City/County Health Department, said Heartland Health Services, a federally qualified health clinic, has been reaching out to people who may not have a primary care doctor or who haven’t received health care recently.
The health department also has a strike team with paramedics to give injections at housing complexes for seniors, low-income people and the disabled.
As for the counties where few seniors have been vaccinated, AARP Illinois told the state Senate Thursday that the current sign-up process is poor, with freezing websites, long waits on hold and waiting lists that don’t specify when someone will be called.
“Overall, Illinois distribution of the COVID-19 vaccine has been marked by unpredictable amounts of vaccine delivered, shifting eligibility criteria, varying and confusing distribution plans across counties, and online registration systems that confound even those who are computer literate and leave behind those without internet access,” the group wrote in submitted testimony.
“The situation has led to frustration, confusion, and anxiety for many. It is time to stop pointing fingers of blame and work together to remove the barriers that exist so that all individuals and families can access the vaccine regardless of age, income, race and ethnicity.”
Chicago Tribune’s Dan Petrella and Aurora Beacon-News reporter Sarah Freishtat contributed.
