What Dolly Parton Means to Me as a Queer Appalachian Catholic

Dolly Parton

Today’s post is by Bondings 2.0 regular contributor Allison Connelly-Vetter.

When I heard the news this week that Dolly Parton had died, I could not believe it. I mean, Dolly Parton? Hadn’t we, collectively, agreed that she would live forever? I kept myself together during my workday, but when I got home, I broke down and cried. 

Dolly Parton belonged to everybody, but she belonged especially to Appalachians and East Tennesseans. I grew up in Knoxville, TN, less than 40 miles from Dolly’s birthplace. My family has lived in East Tennessee for generations. My grandmother spent her summers at a family cabin in the same county where Dolly grew up. My dad works in rural medicine in the foothills of the Smoky Mountains. My childhood included many delightful visits to Dollywood, the Dolly-Parton-themed amusement park which is also the largest employer in the region. I knew the Dolly Parton version of “I Will Always Love You” before I knew the Whitney Houston version. Dolly Parton bumper stickers and t-shirts are rivaled in prevalence locally only by the orange and white branding of the University of Tennessee Volunteers. 

Dolly had a way of bringing together people from very different walks of life. This is evidenced nowhere as much as at Dollywood, where bachelor parties of gay men keep time at bluegrass performances alongside families decked out in MAGA gear and camo. Moreover, while she attempted to stay out of politics, she was beloved by leaders across the political spectrum: upon her death, former Democratic president Joe Biden lauded her as “an American original,” and current Republican President Trump ordered flags to be flown at half mast in her honor. 

As a queer Appalachian Catholic, I am grieving Dolly’s death much as I grieved that of Pope Francis, and for similar reasons. Both Dolly and Pope Francis were incredibly influential personalities who refused to let their popularity and power sway them from their values. 

For example, Dolly had exceptional philanthropic commitments, which continued even into the final months of her life. Someone said to me earlier this week that Dolly Parton is proof that there are no ethical billionaires: Dolly, who was never a billionaire, certainly would have been if she were not so explicitly committed to redistributing her resources to people in need. 

Some of Dolly’s philanthropy is well-known, like her Imagination Library, which has given away a total of over 330 million free books to children around the world since its founding in 1995. But she has also given funds locally and nationally without the same spotlight. For example, after a 2016 fire devastated Gatlinburg, TN – near her hometown – Dolly Parton gave over $12.5 million dollars directly to affected families. Almost ten years later, when Hurricane Helene hit North Carolina and East Tennessee, Dolly gave $1 million towards recovery efforts. She also gave over $1 million to Vanderbilt University Medical Center in April 2020, which successfully supported the development of one of the earliest vaccines for COVID-19. 

When I was in the emergency room at our local children’s hospital yesterday with my sick baby, I offered up a prayer of gratitude for her sizable donation to the children’s hospital in my hometown, recently renamed the Dolly Parton Children’s Hospital in recognition of her generous gift. 

And like Pope Francis, Dolly Parton was committed to the welcome and inclusion of all people, and was honest about her personal growth. One of her local attractions in East Tennessee was previously named “The Dixie Stampede.” Upon learning that the word “dixie” has racist associations, she changed the title of the attraction to “Dolly Parton’s Stampede.” When asked in a 2020 interview with Billboard magazine about the change, she said, “As soon as you realize that [something] is a problem, you should fix it. Don’t be a dumb ***. That’s where my heart is.” In the same interview she commented emphatically,  “Of course Black lives matter. Do we think our little white a**** are the only ones that matter? No!”

She was similarly affirming of the LGBTQ+ community, even as far back as the 1980s. Her longtime personal driver was a trans man, whom she fully supported. She repeatedly said in interviews that she did not judge LGBTQ+ people, and that she did not think any Christian should.

Dolly Parton (left) poses with a drag queen dressed as her.

Dolly  was also a big fan of drag queens. She once entered a Dolly Parton lookalike contest – and lost to a drag queen!If she hadn’t been born a woman, Dolly quipped, she would have been a drag queen herself. One of my favorite Dolly Parton stories is how she opened the song “Jolene” in a live show. As the intro plays she says, “I saw a couple of drag queens out there that came in earlier, and they said, ‘Are you going to sing Jolene?’ I said, ‘Yes, I am.’ One of them looked more like me than I ever will, and the other one was prettier than any of us girls will ever be. So this is for the drag queens and it′s for you.”

There’s also a more complex parallel I draw between Pope Francis and Dolly Parton. Both had a significant fan base outside of their home context–Pope Francis beyond Catholicism, and Dolly Parton beyond Appalachia. And, both were often lauded as being “exceptions” to their cultures of origin. As Molly Cahill wrote for America magazine, “Many people who have been hurt by the church or who don’t believe in its teachings react positively to Francis.” And it’s certainly true that many people who otherwise discount Appalachia and its people–think: coastal elites–felt positively about Dolly Parton. 

But the truth, for both Pope Francis and Dolly, is that they were very much products of their cultures, not exceptions from them Many, many Catholics are affirming, welcoming, and loving of those on the margins, just like Pope Francis. And the same is true of many, many Appalachians, who are too often depicted, even by some of Dolly’s  backwards, unintelligent, and behind the times. 

I am one of millions mourning the death of Dolly Parton, in my East Tennessee home and around the world. I hope, as we grieve her death, that we continue her legacy of generosity, welcome, and love. I hope we lighten our judgments of those who differ from us, whether in region or class or sexuality. I hope we allow ourselves to grow and change, and make that growth and change public. I hope we use whatever influence and power we have to make the world easier for our neighbors in need. And I hope we always remember where we come from, take pride in our formation, and honor our roots – no matter how far we go. 

—Allison Connelly-Vetter, August 29, 2026