Prior to sitting inside the Cherokee Indian Hospital for her second and final dose of the COVID-19 vaccine, Joyce Dugan did not hesitate. The 72-year-old former tribal chief said, “I’m proud of our hospital,” while a nurse softly prepped her arm. “I am proud that we are capable of getting these shots.”

While minority groups across the U.S. have failed to trust the vaccine, the reverse is true for the Cherokee Indians of the Eastern Band, a 16,000 Native American tribe in western North Carolina, and other tribes across the nation, who were also swift to take coronavirus preventive steps.

The Indian Federal Health Service said Tuesday that nearly 385,300 doses of COVID-19 vaccines have been administered. According to an AP study of federal statistics, at a pace of about 18,490 per 100,000, that’s greater than all but five U.S. states.

According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, and tradition, the pattern owes itself both to a harsh fact. Native Americans and Alaskan Natives are four times more likely to be hospitalised from COVID-19. In Native American culture, group before self has long been a central concept.

Abigail Echo-Hawk, director of the Seattle Urban Indian Health Institute and a citizen of the 3,000-member Pawnee Nation, said, “We have already innately maintained that cultural tradition of taking care of our community.” “From us, the rest of the United States could learn.”

In March, Principal Chief Richard Sneed of the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians made the controversial decision to close the Qualla Frontier, the Cherokee term for the reservation of the tribe in North Carolina. Via police barricades, cutting off tourism and closing down the casinos of the tribe, its key source of income, only tribal residents and vital staff were permitted.

“The data we were looking at told us that if we didn’t do anything, we might expect to have about 400 positives by April,” Sneed said.

The reservation opened again after seven weeks, feeling the financial pressure, and as predicted, positive rates grew steadily. Since March, the tribe has lost 10 individuals to the virus, but the majority of the 1,299 members who contracted COVID-19 have recovered.

In March, even before the first positive case was confirmed, the Navajo Nation, the country’s largest Native American reservation with about 175,000 people in Arizona, New Mexico and Utah, declared a public health emergency. There followed a flurry of public health orders, including a mask mandate, shelter-in-place orders, regular curfews and lockdowns for the weekend. Tribal leaders outlawed public meetings and ordered schools, four casinos and other tribal businesses to be closed, along with tourist-popular tribal parks.

An immense financial toll has been taken by the measures. After exhausting federal virus relief funds, the casino company laid off more than 1,100 employees in January. It said that if it does not obtain additional funding or partially reopen, it could be forced to close permanently.

Recently, the Navajo Nation lifted weekend lockdowns so people could be vaccinated. More than 90,000 doses have been provided by the Indian Health Service in the Navajo region so far. The tribe expects to reach 100,000 by the end of this week, with funding from the federal government.

“Everyone knocks down the door trying to get a vaccine,” said Dr. Jill Jim, the health director of the Navajo Nation.

A big reason why members of the Cherokee tribe have not hesitated to move forward to get the vaccine in North Carolina is their hospital. Some Native American tribes depend on the Indian Health Service’s owned and operated health care facilities, but in 2002, the Eastern Band took over its health system.

Ni-hi tsa-tse-li,” one of the guiding principles of the Eastern Band, greets guests inside the lobby of the hospital built in 2015.” It translates to, ‘It belongs to you,’ in Cherokee.

The step helped mend a bond between providers and patients that was once broken. The close ties between them have paved the way for the COVID-19 vaccine’s acceptance.

“Many of our health care providers have been here for 10, 20 years,” the Clinical Director of the tribe, Dr. Rick Bunio, said. “The community confides in them.”

Often, the hospital didn’t wait for individuals to sign up for vaccinations. Instead of asking them to compete on overcrowded websites with others, as has been the case in other states, hospital workers listed the most at risk residents of the reservation and then called each of them to make an appointment.

Included in the high-priority applicant list: native speakers of the Cherokee language.

“Who we are is our language. … We want to do what we can to protect the heritage,’ said Vickie Bradley, director of Health and Human Services for the tribe.

More than 3,000 people have received at least one dose of the COVID-19 vaccine since mid-December, according to the tribe’s website. More than 800 managed to get two. The tribe needs to vaccinate more, but the Indian Health Service, partnering with more than 340 tribes and tribal groups to administer vaccinations, is waiting for more doses.

Dugan exhaled softly inside the Eastern Band’s hospital as a nurse removed the tiny needle from her arm. “She said, “I am relieved for our people, as much as I am for myself. “In our past, we have had to tackle several challenges. And we have become stronger each time after each challenge.