It wasn’t so hard growing up in the poor rural South. I learned to deal with it.

I knew why people would call us Southerners “dirt poor”—we’d work in it so much that it was bound to get all over us. Well, at least we’d always have fresh fruits and vegetables from the field. Plus, I didn’t mind working in the field, because I loved getting dirty.

In the South, it’s no shame that your mom works in a factory—so does everyone else’s moms and dads (and probably grandparents, too, if they’re not too old and beat down by the grind of life). Maybe if your mom works hard enough, she’ll move up to supervisor, and then maybe manager. Not too many people get that “opportunity,” not where I come from.

I lived where my family’s lived for generations. The paint on the wood siding is chipped, and there are old, rusting cars in the backyard, right next to the metal-roofed cinder block shed. No one noticed. So what if the power company cuts off the lights from time to time? The bill will get paid tomorrow, so you just go to bed at sundown. No big deal—or so I thought.

Now I realize the truth—the ills of poverty were, and continue to be, a big deal in my rural town and other not-so-publicized rural parts of the country. When the public thinks of extreme poverty in America, images of the ailing inner city come to mind. Due to the extensive concentration of poverty in these heavily populated areas, the complex problems of these segments of society are markedly more visible. Even in these places, where problems are evident, solutions have been sadly lacking.

Observe the small towns of our nation, where there are no ghettoes. In some sparsely populated areas there are barely enough houses clustered together to be considered neighborhoods. Still, these people face many of the same problems that residents of the inner city face—teen pregnancy, drug use (particularly concerning methamphetamines), and low-quality education. Here, not only are there few solutions for the problems of poverty, many people are not even cognizant that the problems exist.

There is little economic diversification in rural areas; hence, the economy becomes dependent upon a small number of large employers. Reminiscent of the old mill towns in New England, many southern towns formed around manufacturing centers. Then came outsourcing, and with outsourcing, the closure of numerous factories. Factory closures led to layoffs, and layoffs dealt devastating blows to rural economies, many of which have such low education levels and wages that they fail to draw in new, well-paying businesses. Unemployment payments are only a temporary respite for those who cannot afford to move to where the jobs have gone. Farming, once the backbone of the American economy and the typical country job, has become too expensive for many families. No longer a profitable venture, many are forced to sell out to agribusinesses or auction away land that may have been in the family for decades.

Remedies for rural poverty are difficult to come by. Towns and counties often do not have the tax base to create wide- ranging programs and initiatives. Recently, states have been in financial trouble—money is tight, so rural poverty is not at the top of states’ budget priority lists. Some states, including my home state of North Carolina, have even hit rural areas with sales tax increases and funding cuts. In Washington, lawmakers sing their own praises, claiming they are the champions of rural America by passing an occasional agriculture subsidy that does little to help farmers. Help seems nowhere in sight for impoverished country folk.

Something, however, can be done. At the local level, municipal governments, instead of being complacent with an economy based on manufacturing and farming, should vigilantly attempt to draw in new, sustainable businesses. States should continue to invest in retraining programs through community colleges to teach rural workers modern labor skills. At the federal level, direct aid to farmers and the rural poor should replace ineffective agriculture subsidies that do little good.

There is a tendency in the greater public to look at rural America with nostalgia, imagining these places as pictures on postcards—quaint, beautiful, pristine paradises. Beyond the gilded picture of the idealized small town lie issues of pressing importance that must be addressed.

Chaz M. Beasley ’08 is an economics concentrator in Eliot House.