I will always love Dolly Parton

Dolly Parton’s death was a gut-punch. I was a lifelong fan, discovering her old 1970s television variety show when I was 5 years old. I was so obsessed that my parents bought me the Dolly doll that was released in 1976 when I found it at a KB Toy Store (remember them?!) in the mall. I've still got her, as you can see in the photo.

When I posted that story on my social media, a number of my followers praised my mom and dad for buying me a doll when so many parents of that era would have shoved a GI Joe action figure in their sons’ hands and told them that “Dolly was for girls.”

My parents were open-minded (partly because my Uncle Terry – my mom’s beloved brother – was gay) and also music lovers, but with very different tastes. Dolly was one of the artists we could all agree on. I think the world felt that way.

The outpouring of grief and social media tributes from all corners of the globe was indicative of the goodwill and joy she brought to folks.

Dolly was a light in the darkness for so many people. She was a true Christian, not a Sunday-morning Bible-verse cherry-picker who judged others. Dolly was a strong, outspoken ally to the LGBTQ+ community, which endeared her to me even more. 

In 1995, Dolly created her nonprofit Imagination Library, initially sending free books to children in her native Sevier County in Tennessee. What began as a hometown gesture grew into an international literacy program that now sends millions of books each month to children from birth to age 5, regardless of their family's income. 

Through the Dollywood Foundation, Parton supported education, scholarships, and families recovering from disasters. She also made major personal gifts to medical research, including funding research that led to the Moderna COVID-19 vaccine. Her sister, Stella, said on social media that Dolly allowed her doctors to try experimental drugs to treat her cancer for research purposes.

But, of course, it’s Dolly’s music and movies that will be her lasting legacy. I still have my old 45s and cassette tapes of Dolly’s singles and albums. And I have very distinct memories of going to see “9 to 5” on its opening weekend and crying my eyes out at “Steel Magnolias.”

In 2002, Dolly played an intimate show at Center Stage Theatre in Midtown, and it was a thrill to be so close to her while she sang all the hits. When it was time for “Jolene,” she renamed the song “Drag Queen” and had local queens on stage with her.

In 2023, my poem "Roosters & Hens" appeared in Limp Wrist and was then selected by co-editors Dustin Brookshire and Julie E, Bloemeke for inclusion in Let Me Say This: A Dolly Parton Poetry Anthology published by Madville (who also just published the Stevie Nicks anthology I co-edited). The poem is a roman à clef about seeing "9 to 5" that first time under very strange circumstances. You can read that poem here.

We are living through a particularly dark time, with the nonsense coming from Washington, D.C., the ongoing wars, the economy, the ever-widening gap between the haves and the have-nots. Dolly was an antidote to that darkness. Her empathy, positivity, and embrace of all kinds of people were a counterbalance to the politicians and policymakers who try to divide us.

As a cancer survivor myself, I am awed that she was able to continue making in-person and social media appearances. Always with a smile, always with hope, even as she must have been exhausted and in pain. That selflessness is a lesson for us all.

Dolly famously joked about her appearance, often repeating the line, “It costs a lot of money to look this cheap.” The truth is that behind that sassy persona was a woman who believed in the basic goodness of people. She didn’t make a spectacle of her generosity, ask for buildings to be named after her, or play favorites. Dolly said that when she saw a need, she immediately wanted to help, and she did.

May we all be more like Dolly.