Eight years ago, Joe McClour walked into the Cherokee County Assessor's office to find paper section maps and a forgotten ArcMap installation gathering digital dust. Today, that same public expects instant mobile access to parcel data. This transformation tells us something profound about our profession: we're not just keeping up with technology, we're racing against exponentially growing public expectations.
"Nobody comes in for a plat book anymore," McClour notes. "Maybe one a year. Everybody wants to be able to get on their phone and look it up."
This shift represents more than a technical upgrade. It fundamentally altered how assessors allocate resources, train staff, and justify their budgets to county commissioners who may not grasp why yesterday's paper maps won't suffice for tomorrow's taxpayers.
McClour's approach to staffing reveals a truth many of us have learned the hard way: technical skills can be taught, but character cannot. His "vibe check" hiring philosophy, prioritizing teachability and teamwork over existing knowledge, challenges conventional wisdom about professional qualifications.
"I've seen smart people that can't learn, that aren't willing to learn, that aren't willing to be team players," he explains. With Oklahoma requiring seven mandatory accreditation classes, McClour banks on hiring people who can grow rather than those who arrive fully formed.
This strategy has yielded remarkable results. Out of six hires and seven required classes each, his office has seen only two failed exams, both passed on retesting. The lesson? Invest in potential, not just credentials.
Nothing illustrates the assessor's communication challenge quite like McClour's recent experience with a public notice. When Cherokee County faced a judgment requiring a 5-7% tax increase, McClour chose transparency, publishing a notice to prepare taxpayers for the coming increase.
The result? "They're playing the old shoot the messenger game."
This episode crystallizes a perpetual tension in our work. We're legally bound to communicate unpopular truths, yet doing so often makes us the target of frustration properly directed elsewhere. McClour's experience suggests that sometimes there's no winning move, only the choice between bad options and worse ones.
Perhaps most telling is what McClour identifies as his favorite part of the job: processing 100% disabled veteran exemptions. "I love to give that exemption," he says, acknowledging how rare it is for assessors to deliver good news.
This highlights an underappreciated aspect of our work. While we're often cast as the villain in the property tax drama, we're also the gatekeepers of crucial benefits. Every veteran exemption processed, every senior freeze applied correctly, every agricultural classification properly administered, these represent real money staying in the pockets of those who need it most.
McClour's concern about housing affordability touches a nerve that extends beyond assessment. With rural acreage prices doubling from $3,500 to $7,000-10,000 per acre since 2016, and starter homes becoming extinct due to minimum square footage requirements, we're witnessing a fundamental shift in property accessibility.
"We've got a generation right now coming into the ready to home buy and they can't," McClour observes. This isn't just an economic issue, it's a question of whether the American dream of homeownership will skip an entire generation.
As assessors, we don't control zoning or interest rates. But we are uniquely positioned to document this crisis through our data. Perhaps it's time we used our front-row seat to these trends more actively in public policy discussions.
Technology adoption isn't optional anymore. The public's expectations have shifted permanently. Assessors still operating on paper systems aren't just behind, they're becoming invisible to taxpayers who expect digital access.
Hire for character, train for skill. McClour's near-perfect training success rate proves that investing in good people pays dividends. The most sophisticated CAMA system can't compensate for a toxic team member.
Transparency has a price. Communicating difficult truths remains one of our core duties, even when it makes us unpopular. The alternative, letting taxpayers be blindsided, erodes the very trust our profession depends on.
We're more than tax collectors. Every exemption processed correctly, every fair assessment defended successfully, represents our profession's commitment to equity. These small victories matter, even if they rarely make headlines.
Document the housing crisis. As custodians of property data, assessors have a unique vantage point on affordability trends. It's time we shared these insights more broadly with policymakers and the public.
The path from paper maps to mobile apps, from inherited staff to trained professionals, from public confusion to grudging understanding, this is the journey every assessor's office must navigate. McClour's experience reminds us that while the challenges are universal, the solutions remain intensely local. And sometimes, the best we can do is hire good people, tell hard truths, and keep faith that fairness matters more than popularity.