The Way I See It: September 2026

PUBLISHER’S LETTER
Robin Rogers, Ed.D.
September 2026

Every September, something happens at Four States Living that makes me feel both incredibly proud and just a little bit old. We publish our Forty Under Forty issue.

And this year, we’re celebrating 20 years of finding, recognizing, and bragging on some of the brightest, most interesting, most generous people in our community.

Twenty years.

That means there are now 800 people who have made this list.

Eight hundred.

And here is the funny part: When I sat down this year to read through the nominations, I realized something I probably should have figured out a long time ago: I don’t know everybody anymore.

I used to know almost everyone we featured. I knew their parents, their businesses, their kids, their high school mascots, and probably where they went to church. But, after two decades, Texarkana has done what growing communities do—it has grown.

There are new businesses. New leaders. New entrepreneurs. New teachers. New physicians. New nonprofit volunteers. New young families. New people quietly doing extraordinary things without ever expecting a headline.

And, every year, our nominations remind me just how much is happening right here under our noses.

The Forty Under Forty issue has always been about more than job titles or resumes. We’re looking for people who are making a difference. People who are building something. People who are serving. People who see a need and think, “Well, somebody ought to do something about that.” And then, instead of waiting for somebody else, they do it. That is the kind of person worth celebrating.

This year, I had one particularly interesting nomination to consider: my youngest daughter, Emily Orr. I’ll admit it: I hesitated. I mean, come on. I’m the mother. I publish the magazine. I can already hear the collective gasp. So I did what any responsible magazine publisher/mother would do: I tried very hard to separate “That’s my baby!” from “Is she actually worthy of this?”

We went back through the things Emily has done in our community—her volunteer work, her involvement, the ways she has shown up for other people, the things she has contributed without asking for recognition. And when we compared her accomplishments to the same criteria we use for everyone else, I had to admit something: Yep. She earned it.

So, Emily, congratulations. Your mother officially approves.

And that process is exactly why I love this issue: because reading the nominations is like opening 40 little windows into the future of Texarkana. You discover people you didn’t know. You learn about things you didn’t know were happening. You find out that someone who looks like they simply have a successful career is also spending Saturday mornings inventing and patenting new glasses, or serving on boards, or mentoring young people, or raising money for a cause, or coaching a team, or helping somebody who will never be able to repay them. Those are the stories that make a community strong.

And perhaps that matters more than ever this September. This year marks 25 years since September 11th, 2001—a day when our country changed forever. Most of us can still remember exactly where we were when we heard that planes had flown into the Twin Towers in New York City and thousands of innocent people had been killed. I was at the corner of Moores Lane and Summerhill Road when I turned on KYXK for NPR and heard the breaking news. I had just dropped my daughters at St. James Day School, and my son was six months old in his car seat behind me. I wondered if terror could hurt my little ones if we stayed close to Texarkana. I scrambled to check on all of my people. We mourned that day away.

Twenty-five years later, we still say the words: never forget. We shouldn’t. But perhaps remembering September 11th should also remind us of something else: how quickly Americans can become one people when something bigger than ourselves demands it.

For a while, the things that separated us seemed remarkably small. We were Americans. We helped one another.

Now, our world can feel awfully divided. And yet, I believe the answer is still sitting right in front of us. It starts with noticing what needs fixing in our own backyard instead of spending all our energy worrying about somebody else’s. It starts with showing up, taking responsibility, and choosing generosity over indifference and action over complaint. That is what I see when I read these Forty Under Forty nominations.

I see people who are choosing to participate. People who are making things better. People who understand that a community doesn’t become great because somebody declares it great; it becomes great because ordinary people decide to do extraordinary things. And that is why we will keep doing this issue.

After 20 years and 800 honorees, I still get excited when the nominations come in. I still love discovering someone new. I still love finding out who is making a difference. And, apparently, I still have a little work to do keeping my mother hat separate from my publisher hat.

Congratulations to this year’s Forty Under Forty honorees—and to every person who has ever been nominated, volunteered, served, led, encouraged, built, taught, created, given, or simply shown up. You are part of what makes this place special. Let’s celebrate you—and then let’s get back to work. There are things to fix in our backyard, people to help, a community to strengthen.

Be the change.

And never forget how much good one person can do. I hope you enjoy meeting the 20th class of honorees as we did, and as always, thanks for reading FSLM.