On April 26, 1954, Janice Nichols rolled up her sleeve and became part of the largest vaccine trial in history. That year, 1.8 million first- to third-graders were vaccinated for polio across 44 U.S. states, Canada and Finland.
At the time she entered the research study, Nichols was six years old. She had already survived polio, and was grieving the death of her twin brother, who died just days before she contracted the disease. She and thousands like her would come to be known as Polio Pioneers — children who did what they could to help find a solution to this public health menace.
Research shows that confidence in vaccine effectiveness is slipping, despite decades of clear evidence to the contrary. This shift has occurred in part because the stories that once served to build public trust are no longer being heard. Once vaccines became routine, we stopped telling the “before” stories — the fear, the paralyzed children, the summers when pools closed and parents held their breath.
The stories of the Polio Pioneers faded from our collective memory as well. In their place has come misinformation from vaccine opponents, stoking fear. We need to again tell those stories — of healing and relief, when prevention finally arrived.
Stories do something data alone cannot. They draw us in, invite us to see ourselves and think for ourselves — not only about what is true, but why it matters. In these polarized times, they build trust allowing us to meet each other as human beings. They build bridges that arguments cannot.