On this special day we’re celebrating the tenacity, philanthropy, and creativity that is Dolly Parton’s legacy. Fittingly, 9.25 (aka 9 to 5) now doubles as Give Like Dolly Day — the Dollywood Foundation's annual push to fund local Imagination Library chapters, continuing her literacy advocacy by shipping free books to children through age five, regardless of family income. 

Since her passing on August 25, 2026 at the age of 80, I’ve felt a particular sense of empowerment when playing “The Dolly Parton” hand in Texas Hold ‘Em — a nine and a five. The two hole cards can be a winning hand for a Straight or, if the same suit, potentially even better as a Flush (and better yet a Straight Flush). 

Parton, who described her upbringing as “dirt poor” growing up in The Smoky Mountains of Tennessee, taught generations of women that self-possession is the ultimate strategy. She rose out of the ashes of poverty, by building a multi-million-dollar entertainment empire centered in East Tennessee, headlined by the Dollywood theme park, which hosts millions of visitors annually and serves as one of the region's largest employers. Parton played the hand she was dealt with big-hair and heavy-makeup flair and didn’t let anyone dictate her value. 

She famously kept full ownership of her publishing rights, turning down Elvis Presley's manager when he asked for half of "I Will Always Love You".  She made a huge move with incomplete information, effectively keeping her equity instead of splitting the pot for an immediate payoff. Nearly twenty years later, Whitney Houston's cover became one of the best-selling singles ever, a shrewd business decision that yielded millions. 

That wealth sustained her efforts to empower people, evident in her prominent philanthropic moves. Parton founded her global literacy initiative, Imagination Library, in 1995, which has gifted over 200 million free books to children under age five and inspired me as a part-time freelance writer to continue championing the written word. She donated $1 million to Vanderbilt University Medical Center in 2020, which directly helped fund the critical early-stage research for the Moderna COVID-19 vaccine.

When I started playing poker, worried I didn’t know what I was doing, I recalled Dolly as bold and unafraid to insert herself even where it didn’t seem like she belonged. I took my seat at the table and soon found myself surrounded by men as less than 10% of global players are women. 

Quickly, I adopted a personal mission to close the gender gap, realizing that if I didn’t practice the skills that the game forced me to sharpen — operating with incomplete information, having the courage to take risks, knowing when to fold — I'd be the only one at the table still playing not to lose, flinching at every raise while the rest of the room played to win. 

That's the real test of decision-making: knowing when to let people underestimate you, and when to prove them wrong. Dolly knew this better than anyone. As she put it, “I've done business with men who think I'm as silly as I look. By the time they realize I'm not, I've got the money and gone.”

From Nashville boardrooms dominated by men in grey suits to being listed by Forbes as one of America’s richest self made women, she inspired me to prop my elbows up confidently at conference tables and poker tables alike. The bigger the room, the calmer she played it.

Her famous retort when asked what she thought about being called a “dumb blonde” has been a guide for how to operate when I feel bullied at the card table. Parton said, “I'm not offended by all the dumb blonde jokes because I know I'm not dumb — and I also know I'm not blonde.” 

I’ve been called “girlie, sweetie, and honey” by guys impatient for me to make a poker call or fold. Dolly’s savvy taught me how to respond with a cool, “You can call me anything you want as long as you settle up when I win.” 

She wrote more than 3,000 songs in her life — "Jolene," "Coat of Many Colors," and, of course, "9 to 5," the song that gave The Dolly Parton Hand its name. Today, when I stack my chips and look across the felt, I'm still hoping for the same thing: a nine and a five, and the nerve to play it like she would have.