If you’re an avid (or even “casual”) reader, chances are, you picked up the habit early on in life. After all, it’s not something that most people tend to “take to” on a whim post-childhood or -adolescence. Particularly since that’s usually the period in one’s life when they become chained to a job (or several) until the end of their days (though not all of those jobs will have “9 to 5” hours—not that any really do anymore, especially when factoring the hour or more it can take to get to and from a “place of business” that isn’t counted in one’s paycheck). A job that soaks up the majority of their time and energy to the point where reading a book can often feel, to many, like more work rather than a form of relaxation. That is, unless you were conditioned to read for pleasure and escapism at a young age.

The library, as a general institution and resource, is often the place where kids from all walks of life can start to experience this “conditioning.” Can have their interest and passion for literature “sparked.” Especially since most public schools, at some point or another, make an effort to take their classes to the library and introduce students to the wealth of resources (far beyond the internet) at their fingertips. But for those parents who want their children to start even earlier in life vis-à-vis literacy and developing a “reading-as-pleasure” habit, there’s Dolly Parton’s Imagination Library, which started in 1995. The “flagship program” of the Dollywood Foundation, itself established in 1988. And Parton’s decision to pursue this particular cause was hardly a coincidence, for her own father, Robert Lee Parton Sr., was illiterate as a result of his circumstances of birth and geography.

As Parton told CNN of her father’s generation, “Kids had to (skip school and) go to the fields and work to help support all of these big families. My own father didn’t get a chance to go to school. He couldn’t read and write, and that hindered him a great deal because he was so smart. It really bothered him a lot.” Alas, despite the theoretical progress of such conditions for children so that they don’t have to grow up that way anymore, there remains an alarmingly high number of people in the U.S. who can’t read or write. As of the time of Parton’s death, roughly thirteen percent of Americans are completely illiterate and twenty-one percent are functionally illiterate. The latter meaning “the condition of having reading and writing skills that are too basic to manage everyday tasks, jobs, or normal life in society.”

So while the functionally illiterate might be able to read a simple sign or write their own name, anything more complex, such as comprehending “flowery prose” or following written instructions, can be both impossible and frustrating. Not so surprisingly, there’s a strong link between poverty and illiteracy, as Parton’s own father would have attested to. And with nothing like the Imagination Library at his disposal to empower himself, Robert simply never learned to read or write.

Thus, in brainstorming what one of her most major philanthropic endeavors would be, Parton felt that taking on the challenge of illiteracy would be a cause near and dear to her heart. And one that her father got to see her champion while he was still alive. As she told People in 2017, “I said, ‘Dad, why don’t we put together a little program where we give children books from the time they’re born, once a month, until they start school?’ That way, they can learn to read, love books. If you can read, you can kinda self-educate.” Which brings one back to the reason why poverty is so intertwined with illiteracy: the so-called educated fucks (and since the likes of George W. Bush and the Orange Creature are among those so-called educated fucks, it says a lot about how many “successful” people literally buy their educational credibility with an Ivy League or private university degree) at the top don’t want the “hoi polloi” to inform themselves. To become more intelligent, therefore more empowered.

Parton, as someone who grew up as a card-carrying member of that “hoi polloi,” knew firsthand how limiting—“crippling,” to use the same word she did during her acceptance speech for the Carnegie Medal of Philanthropy in 2022—it could be. Not just in terms of watching her father struggle with it, but in regard to her own narrow world in Locust Ridge and Pittman Center, Tennessee. As she told Chapter 16 (an online publication run by Humanities Tennessee), “The only thing I ever saw growing up was poor people in overalls and brogan shoes and ragged clothes. But in my books, I would read about kings and queens with their velvet clothes and big diamond rings. That’s how I knew there was a world outside the Smoky Mountains.” A world that Parton not only conquered, but also sought to make a better place, one gifted book at a time. Or rather, sixty gifted books by the time a child turns five years old (and has been signed up for the program since birth), starting with The Tale of Peter Rabbit—because that’s as good a place as any for a novice to begin their reading journey.

Parton’s adamancy about any family, no matter what their household income, being able to participate in the program further speaks to how important it was to her for books to reach those in most dire need of them (though, of course, the flipside is that those in the least dire need also get access). As her father was, as her entire family was. In an open letter on her Imagination Library website, Parton wrote, “Before he passed away, my Daddy told me the Imagination Library was probably the most important thing I had ever done. I can’t tell you how much that meant to me because I created [it] as a tribute to my daddy. He was the smartest man I have ever known but I know in my heart his inability to read probably kept him from fulfilling all of his dreams.”

As it continues to for many in the U.S. and elsewhere (hence, the library’s expansion into other territories including England, Canada, Australia and Ireland). And while some diabolical entities are simply “feeding” (and, in some cases, actually shredding) books to the AI machine, Parton still held out hope that learning to read genuine, human literature could make the world a better, more equal place. And she wouldn’t be wrong, if only there weren’t so many negative forces at play to attempt to hinder this extremely essential initiative. One such negative force being the Orange Creature that had the gall to pay tribute to her while his own party actively works to defund the public facets of the government that make the Imagination Library available in specific counties and states. That’s why Time reported the day after Parton’s death, “…the future of the program has become more uncertain in states such as Indiana and Missouri as Republican lawmakers have cut or reduced public funding over the past year.”

Naturally, the Republican party has long been known for ruining education in the U.S. (the ironically titled No Child Left Behind Act certainly comes to mind). But it’s also the party that tends to service the most rural areas of the country, keeping their constituents in a perpetual state of ignorance that ensures allegiance to the party. Nonetheless, the Imagination Library will endure so long as the donations, in conjunction with local-level funding, keep coming in. Perhaps it’s only in this way that the U.S. can somewhat avoid the full extent of becoming the nation depicted in 2006’s Idiocracy. As for Parton, she once said, “If I’m remembered a hundred years from now, I hope it will be not for looks but for books.” At the rate things are going in terms of importance being placed on literature in general, maybe we’ll all just be lucky if anyone remembers what a book is at all a hundred years from now.