A Letter to Unvaxxers
By: Kendra Wang
Dear Anti-Vaxxers,
“My body, my choice.”
I still hear your chants echoing through my head whenever I lie in bed. You may not know who I am. I am a vaccinated Exonian with both of my shots. I have a family who does not have as strong an immune system as me. I have friends that I can barely share a meal with. I carry a fear in the pit of my stomach. A fear that one day, I might enter my home with COVID-19 that I contracted unknowingly.
“My body, my choice.”
My grandmother’s call rings across my room, and through it I hear her voice echoing, asking when I will be going home. I reassure her that I will be heading back soon enough. She’s telling me something about my grandfather missing me. I’m thinking about my empty promises.
“My body, my choice.”
I’m stuck in my dorm room, looking at a blank computer screen. I am opening my canvas page, searching for the next Zoom link for my class. Some faces flash across my screen before the day is over. The battery drains slowly. I rub my eyes and get out of my chair, only to circle back into my original seat. Distant echoes sound from behind me, but when I turn around, no one is there.
“My body, my choice.”
People are dying in the background.
“99.7 percent recovery from COVID - why do we need a vaccine?” a sign reads.
Losing family members.
“My body, my choice.”
“My body, my choice.”
“MY BODY, MY CHOICE.”
