Matthew Boedy is a University of North Georgia associate professor and conference president of Georgia’s chapter of the American Association of University Professors. He is the author of “Speaking of Evil: Rhetoric and the Responsibility to and for Language.”
In this guest column, Boedy explains why college professors are crossing state lines in search of COVID-19 vaccines. He explains why he is not among them.
By Matthew Boedy
It’s time to talk about the open secret on Georgia’s college campuses: professors are heading to neighboring states for vaccination due to Gov. Kemp’s order omitting them from eligibility at home.
Vaccine tourism, they call it.
Alabama seems the state of choice though South Carolina, North Carolina, and Florida also are vaccinating “teachers” of all kinds. For the record, no “proof of residency” is required in South Carolina and Florida started requiring such proof in January after many non-residents showed up there.
Alabama might just do the same. And so there is a rush across the state line.
Why has Georgia refused what its peers have done?
Gov. Brian Kemp has said in expanding only to K-12 that college faculty have more efficient ways to teach online. This seems to contradict the Board of Regents who expanded face to face class time this semester. So we can’t get the vaccine because we teach online and we can’t teach online because we have to be in-person.
Credit: Peggy Cozart
Credit: Peggy Cozart
My colleagues who have made appointments in other states say they are taking the drive because of real fears, especially of students coming to class awaiting test results that turn out positive. Some colleagues have health conditions that are serious — and so allow them to teach online — but not ones that allow them to get a vaccine currently.
Godspeed to them. But I just can’t do it.
I will leave the ethical debate to those interested in it. Here is a good NPR discussion.
Here is why I am not.
I am healthy. Though I do have Zoom fatigue.
I can practice social distance at work. We all wear masks, only a few students at a time and who never come near me, and of course I am not on campus a lot. My class experience is not typical, though.
My personal situation may not be typical either.
My wife is vaccinated due to her hospital job. So I am the only one at risk.
But we haven’t eaten indoors (or outdoors) in a restaurant in a long, long time. We get a lot but not all of our food delivered. My parents are vaccinated and my sister the teacher just got her first shot. But other family members remain ineligible.
All this to say I am very privileged. I can wait.
We all want to end this pandemic. Some of us though are not doing our part. Crowds at restaurants, maskless people at the grocery store, and of course the social life - all these hamper my own effort. But my privilege continues to shield me.
My privilege definitely comes in part from my job - its security, its schedule, its benefits.
I am trying to use my tenure for the common good. So I understand all my colleagues without it who have followed the Chattahoochee to Phenix City for a vaccine.
It’s about using our freedom for others, not for ourselves. A man who died protecting others taught me that.
A state legislator recently asked the university system for courses that teach about privilege. There are a few classes that mention it in their course descriptions. Mine are not among them. But students learn it nonetheless from me.
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