Why We Need Dolly Right Now
On How Dolly Parton Helps us in Times of Fear and Polarization
My family and friends know about one of our marital tensions: Rick is always trying to get me to like country music, but I refuse. Three years ago, I went on a girls’ trip to Nashville to celebrate a milestone birthday. It happened to be during the CMA festival, which we did not intend to visit. We just wanted to sightsee. Great! On the last day, however, one of the husbands surprised us with tickets to the final show featuring current greats. Not so great! Skeptically, I sat through a couple of performances determined to stick to my guns. That is, until Keith Urban hit the stage. As I listened to him, the dam of my resistance started to crack ever so slightly and continued when I returned home. Rick deemed that trip profitable.
Three years later and much to my surprise, I’m fascinated by a 9-episode podcast called “Dolly Parton’s America.” Like many others, I used to deride Dolly for obvious reasons, but like she said, the joke was on us. Behind the glitz and kitsch there’s a remarkable person, a bright, magnetic, unifying, and philanthropic person. Her wide-ranging fan base across age and social barriers is legendary, and there are reasons for it. In the face of ridicule, criticism, and judgment, she is not afraid to be herself and to shine her light. In so doing, she encourages others to come out from under the shadow of fear.
We need Dolly right now to help us be less afraid. Myriad forces are splintering and polarizing us, fueling fear and withdrawal. These forces remove us from productive interactions with people we disagree with. Avoiding discussion of differences stunts our growth and makes us one-dimensional people. We are ultimately impoverished as humans. What does Dolly teach me about pushing against these forces?
First, don’t give people what they want. Dolly doesn’t let herself be pinned down and labeled, and she’s not touchy when someone slaps on a mean label. In a famous 1977 interview, Barbara Walters asks her an insult-question:
“You don't have to look like this, you’re very beautiful, you don’t have to wear the blonde wigs, you don’t have to wear the extreme clothes, right?”
Dolly responds: “It’s certainly a choice; I don’t like to be like everybody else.”
And then comes the zinger: “I would never stoop so low to be fashionable, that’s the easiest thing in the world to do.”
Walters continues with her pedantry: “Do you feel like you're a joke, that people make fun of you?”
“Oh, I know they make fun of me, but all these years the people have thought the joke was on me, but it’s actually on them,” says Parton. “I am sure of myself as a person. I am sure of my talent. I’m sure of my love for life and that sort of thing. I am very content; I like the kind of person that I am. So, I can afford to piddle around and do-diddle around with makeup and clothes and stuff because I am secure with myself.” Dolly’s trademark high voice and self-effacing giggle put the joke on Barbara Walters. Dolly takes a high road—with a zinger.
The high road is the hard road, but the hard road leads to higher views. The highway is the way of fashion and polemics, the way of the majority. High roads require more effort, and effort brings gain. You gain self-respect and others gain insight into people they scorn and snub. I’ve gained respect for Dolly now that I know more of her context. Context does that; it leads to empathy.
The second lesson results from the first: Listen a little more closely because there’s far more than meets the eye. The eye reflects the surface while the ear penetrates below it. We need an eye with an ear. That’s a strange but good image. An eye with an ear helps me appreciate people I’ve dismissed, like Dolly. The aforementioned podcast is giving me insight I previously lacked. There’s something powerful about learning the context of a person’s life or of a historical event. I remember learning to love baseball when I watched Ken Burns’s series on the history of baseball. The podcast on Dolly has a similar effect.
Episode 6 of this 9-part series takes us into a history class at The University of Tennessee Knoxville (“Dolly Parton’s America.” WNYCStudios.org, Jad Abumrad, Episode 6, 3 December 2019, https://www.wnycstudios.org/podcasts/dolly-partons-america/episodes/dolly-partons-america). Almost all of the students grew up with Dolly, and they have just finished research papers on what Dolly’s America is. I’m skeptical. Is this just another of those feel-good history classes like the history of cooking? But before long, I’m amazed at the depth and breadth of a raucous three-hour discussion on what Dolly Parton’s America is all about. Students delve into the history of Appalachia and the hillbilly. My dam cracks a little more.
Students discuss what they learned about the region and the people, how travel writers led to Hollywood churning out hillbilly silent films, which led to people of the North wanting to own as many Appalachian crafts as they could get their hands on. This in turn led to entire schools within Appalachia sprouting up. Money was raised, but it went elsewhere. These are stories of do-gooders with paternalistic—and ineffective—ways of “helping” Appalachia and the hillbillies.
Questions are raised of whether Dolly is exploiting the stereotypes for money or giving them a voice. One student tells of being in college because of her literacy program and other philanthropies. Another calls Dolly’s America “extractive capitalism.” For one student, using Appalachian stereotypes means legitimizing them in the eyes of the public. Another points out that Dolly has always been sort of a validation of the Appalachian identity. Seeing a woman who is ambitious and unapologetically Appalachian rise to such heights, made it feel better to be Appalachian.
Several students tell stories of feeling ashamed of their accents and training themselves to speak differently. Does Dolly relate to this? What does she think of people being discriminated against for their accents? There’s a wide array of questions and opinions during this spirited discussion. I would have loved to be the teacher of this class.
Dolly’s voice is spliced in. She shares that she has never felt the need to change her southern accent and has always felt free to be herself. “I tell my stories as I feel them and know them and see them, so I'm not ashamed of anything that we were. I'm not trying to keep us hillbillies. Just like when Barbara Walters said about being hillbillies, I take pride in that now that I'm older when somebody says we can call ourselves hillbillies, but you better know what you're saying if you're going to call it hillbillies. To me that's an endearing term.”
Then the host, Jad Abumrad asks, “What do you say to the idea that the South is changing and there are these older ideas of the South that hurt these kids? A lot of them told us they'd been bullied about their accents. I'm wondering if you ever feel … that we need to counter those ideas out there. The way that the South is seen from the outside.”
Dolly responds, “Well, I'm proud to be from the South. I'm proud of my accent. And that kind of goes back to thine own self be true thing. I would rather people have to listen a little close, little closer than they might normally to try to figure out what I've said then to try to fake it and say it in a way that is not real for me. But I think you should take pride in who you are.”
Her words are refreshing to me and millions of people, especially young people bombarded by voices telling them they are not enough. What is Dolly’s America? It’s people who know who they are and let their light shine. It’s unafraid people who don’t withdraw; it’s welcoming people who build bridges.
What is Dolly’s message? It’s one rooted in a fascinating historical context. Don’t be afraid and don’t withdraw. Own your life, shine your light, and tell your story. Use your voice with your peculiar accent. People might have to listen more closely, but they will know the real you. This is a message I can embrace.