Thoughts from a Burke County Citizens Academy graduate

It’s difficult to decide which Citizens Academy experience was my favorite, but if I had to choose, it would be a tie between riding in an enormous, new-fangled dump truck and participating in an eye-opening budget exercise.

Now, for full disclosure, I missed two sessions so I cannot rank my favorite experiences based on the full course. I can only rate them based on Weeks 1, 3, 4, and 6.

Twice a year, Burke County takes a class of residents through a six-week course designed not only to acquaint them with government operations, but also with the folks who carry out those operations.

The course is meant for Burke County residents but shout out to the Board of Commissioners for allowing me to attend despite my living in Catawba County.

“I loved the landfill” might earn me some weird stares, but I need you to hear me out: not only did we learn about the remarkably nuanced world of trash management and water/sewer that afternoon, but I got to ride in a big truck and that may just be the quickest way to my heart.

That points back to childhood. Papa always had a work truck and one or two other, older trucks for yard work. I always thought the one we called the Orange Truck felt bigger than his work truck, and it had the smell of an old vehicle. It did not have power steering, a fact my little mind had no appreciation for until I was learning to drive.

Papa bought an old truck for me to drive around the yard (that being 50 acres of land tucked away in the woods) when I was a teenager. I was ecstatic. I learned quickly what he meant when he said it didn’t have power steering. He thought that was funny, of course.

I spent a little time in my adulthood driving Papa’s F-250, too. Without the handles I probably would have needed a running start to get in the cab, and honestly, I loved it. Less agile than my sedan, but it’s fun being that high off the ground.

So naturally, a dump truck with a ladder leading up to the cab was fun for me. Plus, the driver maneuvered it between two tractor trailers spaced just far enough apart for the truck to get through. It was impressive.

The budget exercise is a favorite for a different reason. It emphasized the challenges of creating a budget in a way that left a lasting impression on me.

The first session was a general overview of county government. After pizza and introductions, County Manager Brian Epley took us through a crash course packed with information.

That was fun in itself, but I was excited for the end-of-session activity.

I’d spoken to Epley earlier in the day about an article I was working on and mentioned to him that I was excited for the budgeting exercise that night. I told my spouse, too, who lovingly called me “an adorable nerd.”

In the last 30 or so minutes, we were separated into teams. Each team was its own board of commissioners. We were all given the same information: Revenue that would be generated in the upcoming fiscal year, a series of requests from departments, and numerical data representing inflation, cost-of-living adjustments, and so on.

My team struggled. Do we raise pay to match the rising cost of living and reduce benefits due to medical inflation driving up costs? How much money can we allocate for our education system? What about parks and rec? How can we put money toward all of these things without raising the property tax rate?

We just about had it figured out when Epley taped more pages of departmental requests to the wall.

My jaw probably would have hit the floor if it could have. Every department had needs, and we only had something like $1.5 million to work with. Meeting every need 100% was virtually impossible, especially without raising taxes.

Property tax is a government’s only fixed revenue, by the way. Other streams of revenue fluctuate and cannot be predicted with total accuracy. Property taxes, though, are collected one way or the other.

I’ve covered budget cycles before. I already had sympathy for the people who put them together, because it’s a strenuous task resulting in a budget that will neither please everyone nor meet every need.

I have to say, though, being put in a position to figure out a budget with my team was a jarring reality check, and it didn’t even carry real-world consequences.

That exercise was a stroke of brilliance in my opinion. I hope it stays in the curriculum.

If you have ever been curious about the inner workings of Burke County, I encourage you to sign up for the next Citizens Academy.

Dates for the fall course have not yet been determined, and applications are not yet open but keep an eye out in the coming months for an announcement in The Paper.