“I do not believe we should criticize and judge other people. I think we should be accepting and loving.”
That is what Dolly Parton said in a sit-down interview with Larry King in 2016. This week, the world lost one of its most recognizable voices
. Dolly’s vocals and lyrics reverberated across the hills of East Tennessee and eventually across the world. But Dolly’s goodness was never merely confined to the walls of the Grand Ole Opry.If anything, Dolly Parton’s philanthropic spirit may prove to be an even greater part of her legacy than her musical and acting chops. In a time when we are so tribal, so anxious and so ready to put on our partisan colors, Dolly’s life serves as a striking reminder that our political identity should be merely a patchwork
in the coat of who we are.
More than a country music icon
We reside in a climate where the loudest voices are often those wearing ruby-red or royal-blue coats. But just like the coat of many colors Dolly’s momma made for her, we ought to be reminded that who we are as neighbors and as Americans is so much more than who we end up casting our ballots for this coming November.
While Dolly’s rhinestones, hair and alterations were artificial − something she would have been the first to own and admit − her character and heart were anything but.
Consider the Imagination Library. What began in 1995 in Dolly’s home of Sevier County, Tennessee, has grown into one of the world’s largest early-childhood book-gifting programs. More than 332 million books have now been given to children around the world. Dolly created the program in honor of her father, who could not read or write. She understood that education could open doors that poverty and circumstance had otherwise kept closed. And so, she decided to do something about it.
There was no political litmus test attached to the books. No ideological questionnaire for the parents. No requirement that a child believe this or that. Just a book, placed into the hands of a child, with the simple hope that the child might learn to love reading and perhaps find a brighter tomorrow. What began in the foothills of Appalachia eventually crossed state lines and national borders.
For some, Dolly was a singer. For others, she was an actress or a comfort character on the big screen. For a child still using their finger to follow the words on the page, Dolly was the book lady. But to us all, she was, and forever will be, an icon.
Make your own coat of many colors
The patchwork of Dolly's person was never overpowered by any one partisan shade. Her guiding political ideology, at least in the way she lived her life, could perhaps be summarized in just two words: Be good.
That sounds almost painfully simple in an era that has made everything complicated. We are constantly being asked to pick a side. To identify ourselves. To declare which team we belong to. We are encouraged to believe that the person wearing the other color is not merely someone who disagrees with us, but someone who is fundamentally different from us.
Dolly seemed to understand something we have forgotten: A person is never just one color. Like Dolly’s momma, who meticulously stitched together scraps of fabric so that her young daughter could have a coat to keep her warm, we have to do the harder work of stitching together our own identities.
We are Republicans and Democrats, but we are also parents and children. We are workers and neighbors. We are Appalachians and Midwesterners. We are people of faith and people of question. We are Americans before we are partisans. And somewhere in that patchwork is the person we choose to be when nobody is keeping score.
Dolly’s life reminds us that we do not have to discard the other colors to appreciate our own. We can disagree without despising. We can debate without dehumanizing. We can vote differently and still lend a brother a helping hand.
And perhaps, in remembering Dolly Parton, that is the greatest gift we can give ourselves.
Let us do the grunt work of mending our own intricate identities. Let us make a coat of many colors. And above all else, let us be good.
Nick Anderson lives in Walnut Hills and is a member of the Enquirer Board of Contributors.
This article originally appeared on Cincinnati Enquirer: Dolly Parton's coat of many colors is the America we need | Opinion
