I have a secret southern accent. When I say it that way, it seems a little like I’m an FBI agent. That’s not the case. Both of my parents were raised in North Carolina. They come from a long line of folks who have lived their entire lives within a 100 mile radius of the hospital they were born in. These people, and their southern accents, entice my own southern drawl to the surface. Well, that and alcohol.
As an Army brat, my southern tone softened for an accent most people consider neutral. I guess that’s what happens when you go to 13 schools across the United States, each with completely different ways of speaking the same language. That’s one of those nuances I’d never notice without this much exposure to different places. It was mostly little things like saying sneakers or tennis shoes. Soda or pop.
I am fluent in all the regional dialects, but my first language was always southern. I was embarrassed by that as a kid. In the North, people made fun of simple southern sayings and accents. As I got older, I started to understand the dark history of the South. As much as each region had different words for objects, some words had different meanings when they were said in the South. Words like freedom. Saved. Gay.
Gay in America, but especially gay in the South, felt like a death sentence in the 90s as I was building my early impressions of the world. Living out loud - flamboyant with a drawl - felt impossible. In some ways that changed with gay marriage rights. But that didn’t change the fear that lived inside people like me that we were not safe. It didn’t change the way people talked about LGBT+ people. You certainly never heard someone with a southern accent talk about being accepting of gay people. Then, Dolly Parton said something to Larry King 10 years ago, right in the middle of my self-discovery process after losing touch with my family.
She said:
“If you're gay, you're gay. If you’re straight, you’re straight. We are who we are. I don’t believe that we should criticize and judge other people. I think we should be accepting and loving. We are all God’s children. I keep saying, well, if you’re the kind of Christian you think you are, why are you judging people? That’s God’s job. We’re not God. We’re not judges. We’re supposed to love one another.”
Watch the clip here.
It felt like a love letter to me from some long distance family member with an accent that has always felt like home. A message that I was not unlovable because of who I was. I blamed God when it was the “good” people who were judging me. Their hate made me question God’s love for me. But not Dolly.
Dolly Parton died this week. I know she will be remembered by so many as a voice of love, kindness, and compassion. From her music to her social justice work, she made this world a better place. She taught me to be helpful when I don’t know how to be hopeful. Her work, a reminder that love and compassion translate in every language.
