Sophie Allen | The Chronicle
On August 25, 2026 at the age of 80, musician, businesswoman, actress and philanthropist Dolly Parton passed away, and with her vanished some of the sparkle that she brought into the world. Not just an artist, Dolly was a woman who made a fortune on her talent and boldly refused to keep the wealth she gained to herself. Though her gift for the arts was what skyrocketed her to stardom, her most notable achievements most certainly became her acts of charity.
Unsurprisingly, people love Dolly Parton. Across political parties, races, sexualities, ages, income brackets—these people all love her because she is beautiful, talented, authentic and kind. But they don’t necessarily love where she came from. The same people who praise Dolly Parton’s character are those who, in the same breath, will turn around and call Appalachians dirty, backwards, hillbillies or stupid rednecks.
It’s ironic, because the truth is that it is impossible to separate Dolly the beloved celebrity from Dolly the Appalachian. Woven into every song she wrote were pieces of her childhood, perhaps the most famous of which is her song “Coat of Many Colors”, in which she relishes a coat her mother lovingly made from rags, singing, “Although we had no money/I was rich as I could be/In my coat of many colors/My mama made for me.” Growing up poor in the Great Smoky Mountains of Tennessee, Dolly carried on the oral tradition of telling stories and preserving history through her ballads. Even beyond her art, with every act of philanthropy Dolly honored her community back at home. Her authenticity and kindness are traits that Appalachians recognize in their own mothers and grandmothers, traits ingrained in the culture of the mountains and their people.
I won’t deny that Appalachia has its problems. I don’t think it’s worth arguing that the region isn’t poor, that education isn’t underfunded, that people aren’t hateful at times. Historically, rural communities in America have been some of the most underserved, and the effects are still seen today. Since the coal boom (and bust) in the 1870s and 1880s, and subsequent lack of investment in Appalachia, a cycle of poverty has been established. Though the percentage of high school graduates has gone up since Dolly’s youth, in a 2024 study done by the Appalachian Regional Commission, it was reported that in Central Appalachia the percentage of people with a Bachelor’s Degree was still nearly 20% below the national average. Yet none of these disadvantages or struggles make Appalachians any less valuable, or are reasons to discount the population.
Though I live in the suburban midwest, half of my family is Appalachian, and in them I’ve seen far more of the good that Dolly represents than of the “backwards” stereotypes people often spread. When my parents first got married, my mother—who is not Appalachian, but Arab—found her home in a people that could not have been further from where she was born. She wasn’t shunned for her background or her religion. They didn’t question why she didn’t eat pork or go to church. They welcomed her, shared meals with her and treated her like family. That is the Appalachia I know, and the Appalachia that Dolly showed the world.
Celebrities nowadays often feel stale and insincere. Hollywood is filled with privileged figures, many of whom’s fame was bolstered by nepotism and wealth. But Dolly truly came from nothing, and knowing what luck she had in becoming famous, she put it to use. She was never embarrassed of her accent or her eleven siblings; her poor upbringing or her father who couldn’t read. She didn’t shun her community despite the picture the rest of America painted of them. Her most famous philanthropic program—The Imagination Library, which mails one book per month to enrolled children from birth until they begin kindergarten and has provided more than 300 million books since its inception—was founded in honor of her father.
So to truly love Dolly Parton and love the charity she dedicated her life to, we must give a second look to the people we’ve been conditioned to ignore and devalue. Dolly could not have been the woman she was without the culture she came from. If the legacy of her life reminds us of anything, may it be to approach people without judgment, to love authentic people compassionately and unconditionally.
