Black Minnesotans work through righteous distrust to get COVID vaccines

Story and photos by David Pierini staff reporter

Blenda Smith prayed herself to sleep the night before and resumed her appeals to God the next morning as she rolled up her sleeve. 

Pastor Bettye Howell hugged her husband Bishop Richard Howell as he sat down to receive his final vaccine dose. Photo by David Pierini

Fifteen minutes after her COVID-19 vaccine, Smith said she was feeling fine.

“It was a really hard decision for me,” Smith said on the morning she received her first dose at Sanctuary Church in North Minneapolis. “I was nervous when I came through the door, but I shouldn’t be nervous now because I’m prayed up on it.

“Hopefully the shot is going to do what it’s supposed to do.”

A year after the deadly coronavirus first arrived in Minnesota, health officials are accelerating a vaccine rollout that should reach every eligible adult in the state sometime in May. 

Even as vaccines became available, public health officials and community leaders were mounting a campaign to convince skeptical African-Americans like Smith to receive the vaccine. 

Black Americans’ have justifiable distrust with health care because of several historical examples of medical exploitation. Many cite the infamous Tuskegee Study, where 600 men were misled into participating in a decades-long syphilis research project that purposely withheld treatment. Several participants died and passed the disease onto family members.

The study only came to halt after a whistleblower came forward in 1972.

“Mistrust is not a stereotype,” said Anna Babington-Johnson, who served as a navigator at a recent vaccine event at Shiloh Temple International Ministries. “The reality is people died in the Tuskegee project. But we have to communicate that this isn’t a white virus, it’s a world virus. There are underlying conditions in our community, which means if they get the virus they could die. Mistrust is not something we can afford.” 

Vaccine data based on race and ethnicity compiled by the Minnesota Department of Health show significant gaps for people under 45. However, the gap shrinks significantly with older Minnesotans. As of mid-March most Black residents over the age of 45 have received at least one vaccine.

NorthPoint Health and Wellness Center, the largest healthcare provider in North Minneapolis, has received a steady number of requests for the vaccine, averaging about 1,000 per week, said Dr. Kevin Gilliam II.

“Things are going extremely well for us at NorthPoint,” Gilliam said. “There does continue to be some hesitancy in the community but I believe that hesitancy is decreasing. I believe this is due to people becoming more comfortable with the idea of being vaccinated after seeing their friends and family become vaccinated.”

Babington-Johnson gives much of the credit to Gov. Tim Walz, who early on sought out meetings with Black community faith leaders. Her husband, the Rev. Alfred Babington-Johnson, runs the StairStep Foundation, which helped organize COVID-19 testing and has since hosted vaccine events at churches around the Twin Cities. 

The StairStep Foundation has had a 15-year partnership with M Health Fairview to bring flu shots to the community. M Health Fairview works with more than 100 organizations to lower the barriers to flu shots in communities of color. The COVID-19 vaccine was a relatively easy pivot. M Health and StairStep have scheduled 15 vaccine events across the Twin Cities. 

Walz, M Health Fairview officials and Alfred Babington-Johnson appeared together at a press briefing in early March at Shiloh to tout the partnership to reach communities of color. 

“Our governor made decisions that I am grateful for,” Anna Babington-Johnson said. “He understood the community is already plagued with challenges and so he came and met with the pastors. He didn’t say, ‘I know everything.” He said, ‘Tell me what I can do.’”

The churches are key because people are more likely to trust the vaccine when they see their pastor and fellow church goers get the vaccine, said Bishop Richard Howell of Shiloh Temple.

June Dean, who passed up on receiving the vaccine at her senior citizen complex, changed her mind when she saw Shiloh, her church, was a vaccine site. 

“The faith place is the safe place,” said Howell, after receiving his second dose. “There are a lot of conspiracies swirling around the vaccines. People look up to their faith communities and when they see their pastor get a shot and the congregants follow behind, they say, ‘If they can do it, I can do it too.’”

Priscilla Scott, who received her shots at Sanctuary Church, said she was looking forward to the freedom the protection the vaccine would bring her, especially on visits with family and friends who are also vaccinated. 

Scott said she did her own research on the vaccine and concluded it was safe to take. 

“If you ask my opinion, that stuff (Tuskegee) happened in the 1940s and we had no control; we were controlled,” Scott said. “That was barbaric and American doesn’t work that way any more. So I tell people inform yourself before you go way back there.”

Francine Watson, who also received her vaccine at Sanctuary, said doctors in her family gave her the assurance she needed to receive a shot against the virus.

“I'd rather take my chances with the side effects than with the COVID,” she said.