The Butterfly Effect: What Dolly Parton Left us
Dolly Parton’s recent passing sparked tributes around the globe. As I read them and reflected on her extraordinary life, I realized that so much about Dolly spoke to me in ways I had never really considered.
I never thought I had any particular connection to Dolly Parton. Our walks of life could hardly be more different. And yet, I realized that I do have my own Dolly connection—one involving butterflies, books and a remarkable chain of inspiration that traveled from Tennessee into my own home.
Dolly loved butterflies.
Butterflies are also deeply symbolic to me. I have always seen them as powerful beings because of their ability to transform so radically into something magnificent—to fly high, to take themselves to higher ground, to bring beauty into the world.
That symbolism found its way into my own work when I wrote The Blue Butterfly of Cochin. In 2025, my book was selected by PJ Library.
Long before I became a PJ Library author, however, I was a PJ Library parent. My children received those books, and I read them at bedtime. Years later, my own book became one of those books being sent into other families’ homes.
What I never knew was that PJ Library itself has a direct connection to Dolly.
In 1995, inspired in large part by her father, who could not read or write, Dolly created the Imagination Library to put free books into the hands of children. Ten years later, Harold Grinspoon heard Dolly speaking about the program and began thinking about what a similar concept could do for Jewish children.
That inspiration helped lead to PJ Library.
Think about that chain.
An idea born in Tennessee traveled to Harold Grinspoon, into PJ Library, into my home, into my children’s childhood and, years later, through The Blue Butterfly of Cochin, back out into the homes of other children.
Dolly never knew me. I never met her.
And yet there is a thread connecting us.
Perhaps that is one of the most beautiful things about being human: we simply do not know how far the good we put into the world will travel.
Sometimes beyond geography. Sometimes beyond generations. Sometimes even beyond life.
But the more I learned and thought about Dolly, the more I realized that the connection went beyond butterflies and books. There is a tremendous amount we can learn from the way she lived.
“Find out who you are. And do it on purpose,” she famously said.
And Dolly certainly did.
She came from extreme poverty, one of twelve children growing up in rural Tennessee, and built an empire. She believed in herself when her circumstances gave her very little reason to believe that the extraordinary life she imagined was attainable.
That is a mentality I recognize and admire: I can do this.
Dolly put it another way: “If you don’t like the road you’re walking, start paving another one.”
That is a universal lesson. It doesn’t matter whether you are a singer, writer, athlete, politician, entrepreneur or simply someone trying to change the circumstances of your own life.
Dream big. Don’t let anyone tell you that you can’t. And above all, do not underestimate yourself.
There is a lesson for women there as well.
Dolly was unapologetically feminine. The hair, makeup, heels and rhinestones never prevented her from being an extraordinarily talented songwriter and formidable businesswoman. She could even laugh about it: “It costs a lot of money to look this cheap.”
I find that particularly funny as a woman, but also meaningful.
You don’t have to stop being a woman to become powerful. Sit at the table. Have an opinion. Know the value of your ideas. If what you want hasn’t been invented, create it yourself.
And don’t make someone else smaller in order to make yourself bigger.
Another woman’s beauty does not diminish yours. Another person’s intelligence does not diminish yours. Another person’s success does not take something away from you.
True talent doesn’t need to do that.
Dolly also never forgot where she came from. She remained deeply connected to Tennessee, and when she became successful, she gave back to the community that formed her. Her father’s inability to read ultimately helped inspire a literacy movement that reached millions of children.
She transformed without erasing herself.
And perhaps above all, Dolly understood something we desperately need to remember today: having strong convictions does not require contempt for people who are different from us.
She was a woman of faith who made room for people of different religions, colors, backgrounds and walks of life. She resisted making her celebrity primarily about partisan politics and understood that her audience included people who did not all think alike.
We can believe deeply without hating.
We can disagree without losing our humanity.
We can be unapologetically ourselves without demanding that everybody else become exactly like us.
Perhaps that is Dolly Parton’s ultimate universal lesson:
Love your neighbor.
Be who you are. Dream big. Believe in yourself. Never allow someone else’s limitations to become your own. Remember where you came from. Give back when you can. Respect people who are different from you.
And once you are fortunate enough to find your own wings, help somebody else find theirs.
I will do that through my work in Jewish education and with my writing. Each one of us should find a way to take on Dolly’s message with whatever tools you have in hand.
Then we will surely leave the world a better place after our time, just like Dolly herself did.
