However, the study notes that black and Latino adults are even more likely than white adults to say they will “wait and see” before being vaccinated. Although confidence in vaccines has improved, people are concerned about possible side effects, including getting Covid-19 with a vaccine and also losing work, the study notes.
CNN spoke to several people of color who had the vaccine. They discussed why they didn’t hesitate to get vaccinated and the impact it had on their lives in just a few weeks.
‘Why not protect our culture?’
For Alejandra Tristan, the vaccine is like an “extra security” against the virus for her constant medical treatments and medical appointments.
The 23-year-old student at Mary Hardin-Baylor University in central Texas suffers from several chronic conditions, including a connective tissue disorder and liver disease. Tristan is part of a clinical trial related to liver disease and contracting Covid-19 would substantially impede his progress.
“We (she and her family) wanted to make sure that I was protected so that I didn’t have to worry about anything other than my pre-existing medical conditions,” said Tristan.
Last August, she had a medical emergency, but decided to stay home and see a doctor remotely instead of going to the emergency room for fear of being exposed to the virus.
“Now that I know that I at least have the vaccine and my parents have already received it, if something happens again, I would feel a little safer to get emergency treatment,” she said.
Tristan said she also wanted to be vaccinated to help people close to her and others in the Latin community.
“We are Latinos. We come from large families and large communities and we help each other whenever we can,” said Tristan.
“The fact that some of us don’t want to be vaccinated, it seems to me that it goes against our culture. We were raised helping each other, whether you are family, friends, or you are distant relatives. So why not take the chance to help not just you, but your community as well? “she added.
He lost a lot of people to Covid-19
Singfield, a 68-year-old restaurant owner, said he lost many friends, neighbors and church members to the virus and felt a “moral obligation” to be vaccinated.
“The reason I got the vaccine is that I want to protect my wife,” said Singfield. “We’ve been together for 44 years. I don’t want to take it home for her. I don’t want to give it to anyone in my community, either. And I don’t want anyone in my community to give it to me.”
Singfield and his wife signed up online and received the first dose of the vaccine in late January and the second in February. He said he did not experience any side effects.
But Singfield said he believed the shot had been properly tested and would not harm blacks.
“We weren’t the guinea pigs this time,” said Singfield. “In fact, there were people who had already been tested for the vaccine.”
Singfield said he prays to set an example for all black Americans and their neighbors in Albany.
The vaccine may help Latinos to survive Covid-19, says the farmer
For months, José Ibarra and his grandchildren only saw his 90-year-old mother on the other side of the fence of his house. He was afraid that they might make her sick.
“We greeted each other on the other side of the fence, but I couldn’t get over it,” said Ibarra, 64, who lives on a small cattle ranch southwest of San Antonio, Texas.
Weeks after his son managed to schedule vaccinations for him, his mother and some members of his family, Ibarra crossed that fence for the first time in almost a year.
“We said good morning to my mother and gave her a hug,” said Ibarra. “That was very good.”
Since the beginning of the pandemic, Ibarra said he felt vulnerable, even “naked”. After getting used to helping at the local church and volunteering frequently in local groups, he did not dare to speak to anyone outside his home to avoid contracting the virus.
He says he took all these steps because he knew that many Latinos, especially the elderly, died.
“The vaccine gives us confidence to know that we will survive it,” said Ibarra.
He was suspicious of the vaccine, but a call changed everything
Victor Green, deputy head of public security for Kalamazoo, Michigan, wanted to see more research before anyone injected him with the vaccine. Then, a cry for help made him change his mind.
Last year, two police officers were called in to help a woman who had Covid-19 and did not respond. Green, 54, was monitoring the call over the police radio.
“I heard on the radio and they did everything they could to bring rescue measures to get that person back,” said Green. “The person ended up dying … and at that moment I said I was going to get the vaccine.”
Green said he was afraid of what the vaccine would do to him and linked it to the syphilis experiment in Tuskegee. But he also couldn’t forget the price the virus caused.
A respirator could not save a friend in his 40s from dying and another friend who contracted the virus and did not survive, he said.
“It got to the point where my wife and I were so scared to look on social media for fear of who would be next,” he said. “We have some very close friends who didn’t have any symptoms or anything and died.”
After a recent call from Zoom with his wife and close friends, Green said he managed to convince others to get the vaccine. He was vaccinated and said he had no side effects.
“My close friends are saying, ‘Yes, I think we are going to get the vaccine,'” he said.
She really wants the pandemic to end
Kate Sagara was just a few months away from graduating from college when the pandemic started. While she finished school, Covid-19 paralyzed some aspects of her life and forced many Asian Americans like her to live in fear.
Asian Americans are not only afraid of falling ill with Covid-19, says Sagara, but are losing their homes, their jobs and becoming victims of widespread racism and intolerance.
“At least my family and I want this to end as badly as everyone else,” said Sagara.
Sagara, now a day care worker in San Diego, California, was eligible and was recently vaccinated.
For her, receiving the Covid-19 vaccine is the best way to help end the pandemic and, hopefully, reunite with relatives she hasn’t been able to see for over a year.
“I just want to do what I can to speed up the process so that I can see my family and get back to everyday life,” said Sagara.
They wanted to preserve the Cherokee language
Turner, 64, grew up speaking Cherokee at home in a family of 11 children. Until the first or second grade, she didn’t even know English. And yet, she and the many other Cherokee students at her school spoke to each other in the language they knew best.
People like her are rare and she saw firsthand how Covid-19 is threatening her mother tongue. In January, Turner attended the funeral of his children’s father, who died of the virus and spoke the language fluently like her.
Turner, who lives in Salina, Oklahoma, was grateful to receive an email saying she could get the vaccine.
“We have lost many of our fluent speakers due to the virus,” she said. “And I was ready. I said, ‘I’m getting in line.'”
Ross, who is a translator for Cherokee Nation, felt the responsibility to take the photo as soon as it was available to him.
“As a Cherokee speaker, there are probably less than 2,000 speakers like me that are alive on the face of the earth,” he said. “They want to keep us as long as possible because we try to help preserve our language for young people or for anyone who wants to learn.”
The 65-year-old man who lives in Fort Gibson, Oklahoma, has been actively working to preserve the language he grew up with, including the inclusion of Cherokee in Microsoft Office programs and the provision of vaccine information from Pfizer and Moderna in Cherokee.
CNN’s Nicquel Terry Ellis, Adrienne Broaddus and Harmeet Kaur contributed to this report.