Lesson 12: Tackling problems that seem too big to solve, the Dolly Parton way

From day one in The School of Dolly, we’ve playfully referred to our teacher as Professor P, and that’s been intentional.

Our foundational premise here is that, while most of the talk about the East Tennessee native has been about her remarkable entertainment career, her outrageous persona, and her Midas-touch business and philanthropic pursuits, there’s not been enough focus on the foundational principles that have guided her unlikely success.  So, we’ve referred to her as our “professor” because when it comes to leading and succeeding, the facts are obvious; the East Tennessee native who’s been underestimated her entire life is doing something right, so others who also aspire to do “something right” will do well to look, listen, and learn.

In this lesson, we’re focusing on another nickname. This one was given to Dolly Parton by a child. And of all the things Parton had accomplished - the music, the movies, the multi-million dollar business empire - it was the one thing that made Parton’s father the most proud.

“He loved it when the kids called me ‘The Book Lady.’” Dolly said in a 2019 interview.  “He was prouder of that than saying that my daughter's a star.  He’d say, ‘My daughter's The Book Lady.’”

On the surface, The Book Lady nickname is easily explained. In 1995, Dolly Parton founded the Imagination Library in Sevier County, the East Tennessee community where she grew up. With help from her charitable foundation and through a partnership with local public and private donors, children got free books mailed to their home every month from birth through age five. Often, her photo would be on the introduction page in the book. So as far as kids were concerned, Parton wasn’t a wealthy superstar. She was The Book Lady, and it’s clear her father Robert Parton absolutely loved it.

"Well, my Dad, like so many country people, the hard-working people, especially back in the rural areas… My Dad never had a chance to go to school because he had to help make a living for the family,” Dolly said. “And so, Daddy couldn’t read and write." 

Pay attention here. Dolly Parton’s father - the man who raised arguably one of the most famous people on the planet - was illiterate. Through no fault of his own, he’d never been given the opportunity to learn.  And he wasn’t alone. Robert Parton was one of countless others in rural Appalachia held back not by a lack of intellect but by a deficit of opportunity.

“He was very crippled by that,” she told Parade Magazine.  “My daddy was very, very smart, and I thought, God, if he’d had an education, I wonder what all he might’ve been?”

Long before she became The Book Lady, the colossal problem of illiteracy was very real to Dolly Parton, and it was intensely personal. It had a name, and that name was Daddy. Growing up poor in Sevier County, the problem stared her in the face every day, and even after she grew up and made millions, it stared her in the face every time she came back home to see family.

"He was such a smart man, though,” she told NPR in 2018. "But Daddy thought it was just something he couldn't learn after he was grown, so he never tried to learn to read and write. And that was just kind of embarrassing to him.  But I didn't want Daddy to feel embarrassed."

And this was the moment of truth. Faced with the complex and deeply rooted problem of insufficient access to literacy education, Dolly Parton could have chosen the common response to complex and deeply rooted problems - the path of inaction. 

When it seems like nothing can be done, the temptation is to do nothing, to opt for acceptance, and to resign oneself to the immutability of it all.  Instead of addressing the issue at hand, we soldier on as if we have no choice in the matter.  The stench of the problem lingers, out of sight but very much not out of mind -  like the unseen dead mouse who croaked behind the baseboard in the kitchen wall. 

But that’s not what Dolly did.

“So when I got ready to start the program...I thought I'm going to do this for my dad and I'm going to bring him along with me to help me with that,” she said.

That was in 1995, a year that wasn’t all that remarkable in Parton’s entertainment career.  The only song she released was a rehash of “I Will Always Love You” as a duet with Vince Gill.  Her on-screen achievements that year were even less remarkable.  She starred in a couple of TV sitcom pilots, neither of which got picked up by the networks.

But that year, Dolly’s attention was on something else. Back home in East Tennessee, her Dollywood theme park - her scheme to bring economic prosperity to her home community - unveiled a major new expansion.  And that same year, she launched the Imagination Library in Sevier County. Her library would be built out of something more powerful than bricks.  It would exist in the bookshelves and in the imaginations of children across Sevier County, and it would grow exponentially every month.

In response to the unsolvable, Dolly Parton took action, and that action inspired a movement that’s spread across the United States and to four countries around the world: 222.9 million books delivered in the U.S. and four other countries since 1995, 2.8 million children currently registered, and private and public funds dedicated to mailing free age-appropriate books to children every month from birth to age five.

"We never thought it would be this big," she told NPR. "I just wanted to do something great for my dad and for my home county and, at the most, maybe a couple of counties over. But then it just took wings of its own, and I guess it was meant to be."

Robert Parton died in 2000, five years after the Imagination Library began.  “So, he got to live long enough to see it really take off and start doing good,” she said.  And he lived long enough to hear her called “The Book Lady.”

This wasn’t Dolly just being nice. This wasn’t Dolly just being generous. This was Dolly teaching a masterclass in how leaders solve big problems.

It’s been my observation that, when someone steps forward in good faith intent upon making things better, others will take notice and even join the cause.  I watched it happened in my home county, about an hour and a half drive from Sevier County.  Around 2004, our very wise County Mayor at the time heard about the Imagination Library in Sevier County and got the ball rolling to start a local chapter.  Fast forward to today, and in my county (population 56,000 +/-) more than 440,000 books have been given away since 2005, and more than 2170 children a month get Imagination Library books in the mail through an efficiently managed process funded and administered by a devoted board comprised of  local teachers (retired and active), business leaders, and volunteers.

All because one person decided to do something about a problem that many would have said was too big to solve.

The Book Lady nickname is a reminder that good leaders see big problems and do something about it.  Good leaders see challenges that, on the surface, seem too complex to overcome, and they inspire others to work toward a solution fully aware that failure is possible. Good leaders make the problem personal, and their approach, though potentially complex in execution, remains fundamentally simple: do what you can, where you can, and when you can to make things better, even if only just a little bit.

Students in the School of Dolly - what is the problem you’re living with that’s too big to solve?  For Dolly, it was illiteracy and insufficient opportunity at home in East Tennessee.  What about you? What is your problem that’s too big to solve? At home, in your community, or at work - what is the bur in your saddle, the itch you can’t scratch, the gnawing reality that you can’t seem to forget?

You probably have an idea of what you can do in service of a problem’s solution.  And you probably are keenly aware of the high probability that doing something won’t make the problem totally go away.  

Do it anyway.

You probably will have people around you saying, “Are you crazy?  You can’t save the world, so why even try?”  

Do it anyway. 

You probably are exhausted by the problem and most days would rather hide in the foxhole than march onto the battlefield with bullets flying all around?

Do it anyway. 

You will be tempted to measure the success of your attempts. Good leaders do that instinctively and for good reason. But the demand for results can be a formula for paralysis.  

Almost 30 years after the creation of the Imagination Library, literacy gaps remain a big problem across the country.  So has it failed?  I don’t think you’ll find anyone who would say it has. And when I brought up the Imagination Library in my interviews with Dolly Parton, I heard nothing but pride in what had been accomplished over the years.

Instead of measuring success by “problem solved” or “challenge removed,” Professor P proves that good leaders measure success in small ways when attempting big things: a child encouraged, a mind expanded, and a moment of hope in the midst of a hard life.  For Dolly, I suspect success was measured in making her father feel proud. In paying attention to the small steps, good leaders are free to celebrate progress and communicate excitement to the people they lead.  

That’s the fuel that keeps us going when the days are long, the needs are great, and the problems seem hopelessly unsolvable.