Many essential workers still aren’t vaccinated. It’s not because they don’t want to be — it’s because they can’t get time off work.
After getting vaccinated, I eagerly
returned to some parts of normal life, expecting the essential workers I
interacted with would be already vaccinated. 
UFCW photo
After all, they became eligible
for the vaccine before I did, and our county has one of the highest rates of
vaccinations in the country.
I was surprised when a few people told me they weren’t vaccinated.
They wanted to get vaccinated, and planned to,
but they couldn’t afford to risk feeling sick from side effects for two days
while they had to work.
It’s sad and ironic that the very
people who most need vaccines because of their jobs can’t get them because they
can’t take time off work.
It turns out the few people I met in
this predicament are not alone. People without college degrees are less likely to be vaccinated than people with
college degrees, even after accounting for their political party or race.
Vaccination rates also correspond to income: the more you make, the more
likely you are to be vaccinated. Among people who say they are willing to get
the vaccine, about three-quarters of people with household income under $25,000
have received at least one dose, compared to 93 percent of people with
household income of $200,000 or more.
All in all, 30 million Americans want to get vaccinated but so
far have been unable. They gave several reasons: some don’t have transportation
to a vaccination site, others have work or family obligations, and some face
disabilities, language barriers, or other difficulties.
How do we help everyone who wants a
vaccine to get one?
The people I know who got vaccinated early spent a lot of time searching for appointments online and sometimes found them in far-off towns they had to drive to. Later, our county offered online registration and emailed invitations to make an appointment at a central, drive-thru site.
Either way, you didn’t get much
choice about where or when you’d be vaccinated. You needed to speak English and
have internet access. Often, you needed a car. And you needed the flexibility
to take an appointment whenever you could get one.
Then you have to buckle up for
potential side effects after your shot. Some people have no side effects, but
it’s common to have a day or two of flu-like symptoms. They’re manageable, but
you may need to take a sick day — and a quarter of the U.S. civilian
workforce doesn’t get paid sick leave.
I’ve heard friends who have been
comfortably middle class their entire lives say things like, “It’s better to
have two days of side effects now than be on a ventilator later.” That’s true —
but our society often forces low-income people to sacrifice long-term needs in
favor of short-term survival.
The next step in the vaccine rollout
must be expanding accessibility.
Fortunately, it’s getting easier to
get an appointment in most places. With the expansion of walk-in appointments,
you have more say over where and when you get the shot. But we should do more.
For example, we need to provide
multilingual vaccine information, make sure vaccination sites are accessible
for people with disabilities, or offer in-home vaccination and mobile vaccine
clinics.
Employers can help too. They can arrange on-site
vaccination for employees or help with transportation. They should also offer
paid time off to get vaccinated and recover from side effects.
The bigger picture is that we need
to work toward a less unequal society overall. The gap between vaccine haves
and have-nots is a small part of a much larger problem, which has been made
worse by the pandemic. We can and should do better.
OtherWords columnist Jill Richardson is pursuing a PhD in sociology at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. This op-ed was distributed by OtherWords.org.
