“For anybody who cares about Organized Labor, 9 to 5 deserves another look. Beneath the comedy was a story about working women confronting discrimination, harassment, unequal pay and workplace power. Dolly’s title song gave those frustrations a voice that reached far beyond the organizing circles that inspired the film. It became an anthem because millions of people understood exactly what it meant to work all day and still feel like somebody else was getting rich from your labor.”
Editor’s note. This story was written by Matt Alley and originally published at BlueCollarWriter Labor Media here.
The news of Dolly Parton’s passing is a strange thing to absorb. For most of my lifetime, Dolly seemed less like a celebrity than a permanent fixture of American life. The voice, the hair, the rhinestones, the laugh and those songs were always there. But Dolly Parton was never simply a country music star. She was a songwriter, businesswoman, philanthropist, cultural ambassador and, whether she used the label or not, a working-class icon.
For anybody who cares about Organized Labor, 9 to 5 deserves another look. Beneath the comedy was a story about working women confronting discrimination, harassment, unequal pay and workplace power. Dolly’s title song gave those frustrations a voice that reached far beyond the organizing circles that inspired the film. It became an anthem because millions of people understood exactly what it meant to work all day and still feel like somebody else was getting rich from your labor.
Dolly also understood something that every worker and every artist should understand: know what your work is worth. She learned that lesson during her years working with Porter Wagoner. As her popularity and songwriting career grew, she became increasingly frustrated with their business arrangement and what she was being paid. The often-told story is that when Dolly asked for more money, Wagoner would give her gifts instead. Dolly didn’t want a Cadillac or jewelry. She wanted to be properly compensated for her work.
That distinction matters. A gift is something somebody gives you. Compensation is what you are owed for your labor.
When Dolly eventually decided it was time to leave Wagoner’s show and pursue her own career, he warned her about what might happen if she went out on her own. Dolly went to RCA herself to find out. She discovered that her career wasn’t dependent on remaining under Wagoner’s control and moved forward.
The separation wasn’t exactly a labor dispute in the traditional sense; there was no union contract or collective bargaining involved. But it was a working relationship in which a young woman increasingly understood that her talent was generating value that she needed to control herself. That lesson would follow her for the rest of her career.
She later fought just as hard to maintain control of her songwriting and publishing. When Elvis Presley wanted to record “I Will Always Love You,” Dolly refused a deal that would have required her to surrender a substantial share of the publishing. She chose ownership over the opportunity to have Elvis record her song. That decision later proved extraordinarily valuable when Whitney Houston’s version became a worldwide phenomenon.
Dolly didn’t just write the song. She owned the work.
I’ve always been more interested in Dolly the songwriter than Dolly the celebrity. Her ability to turn poverty, heartbreak, family, faith and mountain life into songs that could cross every cultural boundary was remarkable. She didn’t have to abandon where she came from to become successful. She carried East Tennessee with her.
That may be one of her greatest contributions to Appalachia. Dolly’s crossover success introduced millions of Americans to Appalachian music, stories, language and culture without requiring Appalachia to be stripped of its identity first. She helped make the region part of the mainstream cultural conversation, and then invested directly back into the place that shaped her. Dollywood became an enormous tourism and employment engine for East Tennessee, creating thousands of jobs and generating billions in regional economic activity.
Her humanitarian work is equally difficult to measure. Through the Imagination Library, Dolly has helped put more than 300 million free books into the hands of children. She consistently used her wealth and influence to address needs that governments, corporations and plenty of wealthy people have ignored. Whatever somebody thinks about her music, that record of generosity is difficult to dismiss.
But there is one part of the Dolly Parton story that deserves a little honesty now that everyone is lining up to claim her as their lifelong favorite.
Not everybody loved Dolly.
Some Boomers and Gen Xers spent the 1980s treating her as a punchline. They laughed at the hair, the clothes, the accent and the exaggerated persona. They reduced an enormously talented songwriter and businesswoman to the “dumb blonde” character she was perfectly capable of playing.
Now that she’s gone, there will be plenty of people insisting they always understood Dolly.
Some of us remember differently.
The irony is that Dolly probably understood the joke better than the people telling it. She let people underestimate her while she quietly built an empire, protected her intellectual property, wrote some of the most enduring songs in American music and turned her success into jobs, philanthropy and investment in the community she came from.
Dolly Parton never had to stop being Appalachian to become an international icon. She never had to pretend poverty didn’t shape her, or that the mountains were something she had escaped. She simply took what she learned there and carried it farther than almost anyone could have imagined.
That is why Dolly Parton was more than a legend.
She was proof that where you come from does not have to be something you leave behind to become successful. Sometimes, the most powerful thing you can do is take home with you wherever you go.
Matt Alley,
BlueCollarWriter Labor Media
Find Matt on Instagram at: https://www.instagram.com/bluecollarwriter
