The Way I See It...

Publisher's Letter 

Robin Rogers, Ed.D.

August 2025

It’s late July, and as usual, I have waited until the very last minute to pen my thoughts that relate to the August issue, our education issue. I am the greatest procrastinator of all. Everything on my to-do list gets priority before I will make myself sit down and write. I don’t actually think I’m a great writer, so if there’s a yard to mow, dishes to do, or 15 loads of laundry piled up, those chores will take priority over writing. For the last week, I have been packing and preparing for a girls’ trip to Alaska. Every day, my list grew longer and longer than my desire to write. At this point in my life, it’s almost too exhausting to even try to vacation anymore. Between wheelchairs (yes, plural), electronics (including this Mac on which I type), clothes, snacks, and medicines, we haul so much stuff. When we finally got to our seats on the plane, I was pooped out. I knew I needed to write my editorial before we descended on the West Coast, but, sandwiched between a woman who wouldn’t stop talking and some kids who didn’t hear the flight attendant say that devices with sound are fine as long as all passengers wear their headphones, I was really doubting my ability to concentrate. Back in the Four States Living office, my designer was probably tapping his feet, wondering why he had everything ready to go to press, and I couldn’t get my act together. “I’ll write it from the plane,” I had told him, as if some divine inspiration would permeate my brain at 45,000 feet. That’s never the way it goes, though. To get busy writing means doing the hard thing—opening up the computer and just starting to write.

I’ve never met anyone who truly enjoys writing; oh, I know those people exist, but I really don’t know any. For many years, I taught writing on the college level, and I remember so many students who had put off taking the one required junior-level writing class until the semester that they were supposed to graduate, praying to the syntax and grammar gods for a lenient instructor. Again, I don’t consider myself a great writer, but I can teach students how to mimic better writers, and I’ve always encouraged people to practice telling their own stories through their fingertips. “If you can tell a story, you can definitely write it down,” I would say. “Good things take time and practice.” I can still hear the moans of disbelief.

Do you remember the wobbly feeling you had when your parents first reluctantly took the training wheels off of your bike? You knew you were going to fall; that was inevitable. But after more tries and peppier encouragement, you found that two-wheel stability. It took practice. Everything worth doing takes practice. Even those people with “natural talent” stay the same without practice. 

I’ve been in the magazine business for almost three decades. A few years ago, I felt like I was cruising, as I rested on my laurels and stopped trying to improve. I think that happens to many people who do the same job for a long time. My favorite teacher used to say, “If you are sitting still, you are going backward.” He meant that, while you pause in anything you do, others are passing you. When COVID happened, for a hot minute, I worried that my business might crash; plenty did during the shutdowns. I kind of lost my mojo and wondered if I was doing what I was “supposed to” be doing. I contemplated selling. Was I going to choose the safe path, change directions, or step on the gas? I’ve been working (paying taxes) since I was fourteen. The idea of a safe path sounded good, but I knew it would not bring me joy. I need to learn, be challenged, and grow. This magazine is my passion and legacy, so making sure it can thrive for the next owner—when I am ready—is the most important growth I can practice.

Recently, I visited with a dear man who is knocking on ninety years old. We talked about his business, from which he retired almost 30 years prior. He ran one of the biggest, most successful businesses in Texarkana for decades, but he said that he learned the most after he retired. “How is that possible?” I asked. 

“That’s when I took up reading,” he said, “and now I read every day. And I read all kinds of things.” 

He proceeded to send me an article from The Wall Street Journal about the different clouds in outer space, something I’ve never even considered. Rarely do I think of an education beginning at retirement, but he was dead serious. That visit with him helped me turn the corner. I’m not finished learning and growing. Time is a thief; if we don’t seize new growth opportunities, what’s the point?

You don’t have to write, or read more, or ride a bicycle, or golf, or paint, or teach. You don’t even have to reinvent yourself. But, “if you are sitting still, you are certainly going backward,” and nobody wants to have to put the training wheels back on when you’ve had the freedom of the wind in your hair riding a bike downhill.

Learning is everything. It’s one complementary thing that our country provides (at least K-12) and people take for granted. My young friends these days are so busy trying to fit classwork into a school week and every possible extracurricular activity into that same timeframe. “Do we take regular, pre-AP, or college-level English?” “How many dual-credit courses can we earn before high school graduation?” “How fast can I graduate?” “I can’t wait to settle down and get a job with a car payment.” To my younger friends: slow your roll. There is no award for the fastest to leave school. You have many years to work. Sample the curriculum, and find your passion. Train with people who are invested in your success. And try not to sit still. The world is such an interesting place.

This month’s issue is our annual education issue. Every story spotlights amazing people, younger and older, who love what they are doing right here in the four states area. Read these stories, and I guarantee you will learn some new things! And, as always, thanks for reading FSLM.