As vaccination across Connecticut intensifies, health experts look to Black churches in growing effort to control COVID-19

Eleven months of social isolation is wearing on 89-year-old Ida Burch of Middletown.

“It’s been kind of hard to stay safe and stay away from people because I love people,’' the retired Wesleyan University custodian said.

Eager for a sense of normalcy to return, Burch booked a vaccine appointment, even though her grand-daughter expressed skepticism about the safety of the shot. “She made me nervous,’' Burch said.

But Burch’s husband convinced her to go, which is how she found herself sitting in a plastic chair in a meeting room at the Cross Street African Methodist Episcopal Zion Church Tuesday morning as a doctor from Middlesex Health gave her the first dose of the Moderna COVID-19 vaccine.

Burch was one of 50 adults over 75 who received their shot at the vaccination clinic, which was hosted by the church and sponsored by the Middletown Health Department and the Ministerial Health Fellowship.

Black churches have long played a leading role in promoting civil rights and advocating for the vulnerable. Holding a COVID-19 vaccination clinic is a natural extension of that work, said Rev. Moses Harvill, the pastor at Cross Street AME Zion.

“The Black church has always been at the forefront of justice, for equality,’' Rev. Harvill said, moments after receiving his vaccination. “To have this [clinic] in our church, so we can serve our community...well, I’m excited to do it.”

Rev. Harvill was among those receiving the vaccine Tuesday, sending a powerful signal to members of his congregation that the life-saving shot is safe and worth getting.

Asked to explain the reluctance of some African Americans to get vaccinated, he said, “it’s a trust factor and it’s based on history as well as whether they think it’s safe.”

Black residents of Connecticut have been disproportionately affected by the coronavirus pandemic. Compared with non-Hispanic white people, they are one and a half times more likely to contract the virus and more than twice as likely to die, according to age-adjusted statistics provided by the state.

In some cities with significant Black and Hispanic populations — such as Bridgeport, Waterbury and Hartford — the vaccine roll-out has been particularly slow compared to suburban and rural towns.

Meanwhile the vaccines have been met with mistrust by some Black Americans, who have endured generations of racist treatment by the medical establishment.

Coupled with that skepticism is a lack of access to the health care system. “They talk about people of color having a hesitancy about the vaccine, but hesitancy doesn’t mean refusal,” said Rev. Robyn Anderson, a pastor at Blackwell Memorial AME Zion Church in Hartford and the leader of the health fellowship, which advocates for equity in health care.

”It really is about bringing [the vaccine] to a place in their community where they feel safe and where they feel comfortable,” Rev. Anderson said. “They know the church is a safe place for them to come.”

The clinic at Cross Street AME Zion is the first of several scheduled at churches across the state in coming weeks.

“We hope this will be the start and once people see their friends and family and their neighbors and their pastors getting vaccinated, it will help to ease their concerns about the vaccine and the numbers will go up,” said Kevin Elak, Middletown’s health director.

“Because it is a brand new vaccine that’s never been used before, there are still concerns out there, even though its been proven safe and effective,’' Elak said. ”We’re constantly trying to dispel the myths.”

About 200 city residents have died since the pandemic began 11 months ago, Elak said. He could not provide a demographic breakdown but said the overwhelming number were elderly people living in nursing homes and other group settings.

Ninety-eight-year-old Albert Weston was among the first people to get vaccinated at the church clinic. He attends Cross Street AME Zion and was eager to receive his shot.

Asked why, he shrugged and said, “I want to live.”

Daniela Altimari can be reached at dnaltimari@courant.com.