It is well known across North Carolina that the great metropolises of Charlotte, the Triangle, and the Triad are rising in economic and political prominence at an astounding rate. Comprising more than 50 percent of the population, four counties account for half of the entire elected leadership at the state level. So one has to ask, “How do rural counties vie for equality in such a reality?” But more often than not, this debate will land on deaf ears. Thus the fiscal situation in rural areas goes from bad to worse with nary a whimper from the Houses in Raleigh.

It’s not that “we” (rural residents) don’t like you (metro folks). Perhaps it is only that the rural communities of the state don’t often get to share their views with you, the citizens of the great cities. We know that urban areas are an important part of this state’s development. But rural areas must be seen as more than mere retreats from the big cities. That is why we need to begin looking at issues like geographic representation and unfounded mandates more closely.

I live in Sanford, the heart of Lee County, the heart of North Carolina, on a family farm that has been in the family for five generations. We are unique in that Lee County has many of the benefits of a metropolitan area because of its proximity to Raleigh, Durham, Chapel Hill, and the Research Triangle Park. However, Lee County has many rural characteristics as well. Sanford itself isn’t Mayberry with our 25,000 city and 50,000 county residents, but much of the county is still working farms or undeveloped land. Juxtapose this against our significant manufacturing base and you can begin to see our economic diversity.

While rural may mean “backward” to those in big cities, I prefer the word “dynamic.” I have been fortunate to work in wireless technology and as a financial advisor, so I understand 21st century progress. Yet as a county commissioner, I know that critical needs and burdens faced by rural communities in education and health care often leave areas like ours behind.

We need look only at Medicaid to see quickly but one example of the encumbrance of mandates upon the rural counties. North Carolina is one of two states (New York being the other) that requires local matching of Medicaid at the county level. Thus a federal and state program becomes a line (or several lines) on a local budget. In large urban areas like Wake County that budgetary line is about 9 percent of an annual budget. In Robeson County that line exceeds 30 percent of a local budget.

It doesn’t take an MBA to figure out why schools and other services might be better, per capita, in areas like Wake. In Columbus County there are more folks on Medicaid than working. Imagine how much more effective a county like Robeson or Columbus could be if it had that extra 21 percent in its budget? Having balanced four budgets in my home county, where Medicaid eats up 14 percent of our budget, I can assure you that community colleges and schools would benefit and tax rates would likely decline.

But there seems to be no end in sight as the mandates from the state continue to erode rural areas’ ability to deal with their respective budgets. State officials’ “stealing” of the reimbursements was but the latest attack on all counties, but particularly damaging to rural areas. The mismanaged state budget severely affects the ability of rural communities to fund law enforcement or other public-safety and security needs, or even to build new schools. Parity in education, law enforcement, and social services is dwindling at an alarming rate. So, while the budget crisis at the state level angers large North Carolina cities, it not only erodes but undermines the solvency of many rural communities.

Strangely to some, I don’t believe the solution is to demand more of the urban areas. I believe the first step in uniting North Carolina is to appreciate the fierce independence of our people. For that reason, it is important not to simply explain a point of view on the rural life of our state, but to demonstrate why it is critical to give local communities the ability and means to determine their own destiny, while sharing only the most critical statewide burdens.

It is important that we make a renewed effort to bridge the divides of the mountains and Down East, of urban and rural, and of “Metropolis” and “Mayberry.” We are not one North Carolina, and dialogue is the first step to understanding why these discrepancies exist and how we solve them so we can all benefit in the new century.