There are many things that have already been said about the life and death of Jade Goody, but what was her legacy? Everyone has to have a legacy these days, good or bad, from politicians to actors to teachers and chefs.
As someone who watched her roller-coaster life from the sidelines, often with a mixture of derision and pity, I was never really a big fan. I was horrified by the footage of the infamous Big Brother battle between Goody and Shilpa Shetty and this simply reinforced my opinion that Jade was a misplaced role model, giving credence to the children who tell their careers advisers that when they grow up they 'want to be famous'.
When I heard of her cancer diagnosis it shocked and upset me. As a breast cancer patient with young children, I instinctively knew what Jade was going through. Her fears for her children, the sudden awareness of her own mortality and anger at the injustice of it all.
There is no denying that she was inexcusably robbed of her childhood, let down by her parents, family, education and the state. I remember reading in a magazine, a 'top tip' by Jade, which advised women to keep teaspoons in the fridge so that if you have been crying and your eyes are red and puffy, you can place the teaspoons on your eyelids to help soothe them. Immediately I felt great pity for Jade; I surmised that for someone to have such a tactic, she must have cried frequently and was always prepared for the next bout of tears.
And cry again she did, on television for everyone to see, as she was given some of the most devastating news a young mother can be given. I clearly remember the day of my diagnosis, I see it almost as though it too was on a television screen. I can visualise the room, with my Consultant, clinical staff and a MacMillan Nurse; my husband and I sat waiting for the hammer-blow. No matter how much you expect it or – as in my case – are in denial about it, that is what it is. It was wrong that Jade was given this news in the most heartless and cruel way, on the telephone with no support and no one to hand her a tissue or offer a comforting hand. Revenge in the highest, Shilpa had been upset by Jade in the UK 'Big Brother' house and now, Jade had been reduced to a wreck in the Indian 'Big Boss' house, in the most dramatic way possible.
Jade was a force in the media, she milked her fifteen-minutes and stretched it into years of fame, on the basis of being a gobby girl from a rough part of South London. She told her story throughout her illness, the only way she knew how, through the television camera and celebrity magazines. She was no intellect, probably wouldn't have been able to write the diary of a terminal prognosis as John Diamond and Ruth Picardie had done so eloquently, but then, Jade's core fans would probably not have read such things. She knew who she was, where she was and what she was famous for, the only way for Jade to tell her story was on television, that is where we met her, loved or loathed her and watched as she thoroughly enjoyed every minute of her fame.
Many of us underestimated Jade, when asked if she was going to sue because of the delay in correctly diagnosing her cancer, she replied that she didn't think people should sue the NHS. A stand that I respected her for, she showed that she wouldn't do anything for money. Ghost-written autobiographies, perfume and fly-on-the-wall documentaries are positively respectable compared with what some reality TV 'stars' do in the name of 'celebrity' and at least Jade was always fully dressed when she fell out of a nightclub!
I did not know Jade, but I and many other parents I have spoken with or read comments from on Internet discussion boards have a very basic commonality with Jade that allows us to feel much empathy for her. As parents, we cannot comprehend the idea of leaving our children while they are young and still need us. For Jade to have to do that, aged 27 and still so young herself is tragic.
I read with interest her ideas for how to explain her diagnosis and prognosis to her boys, I didn't agree with what she chose to tell them but I understand that it is an incredibly personal and difficult thing to do. How do you tell your children that when you didn't look or feel ill, you actually were ill, and now, the medicine that you are being given to help fight the illness is actually making you look and feel very ill indeed? It is hard enough for an adult to comprehend the disregard cancer has for everything one holds precious, without trying to explain that to a child.
For those of us who have received a cancer diagnosis Jade has brought our fears back to the fore. We have had our surgery, the horror of chemotherapy and seen our children, watching us suffer the indignity of it all and not understanding why Mummy is so ill and has no hair. We have endured the devastation that cancer wreaks on every aspect of our lives, how it changes you, your relationships, your career, your family and your life forever more. But we are the lucky ones.
We were not claimed by cancer, we live on. Jade's legacy is not her 'kebab', the 'BB race row' or anything she did in the name of fame. Jade's legacy is simply this: there are women today who will live to see their children grow because Jade did not. Cervical screening rates are up and some young women are going for the first time for a smear test; lives will be saved.
Jade achieved something no one ever expected of her, something respectable and something for which many will be thankful. That is her legacy.
As someone who watched her roller-coaster life from the sidelines, often with a mixture of derision and pity, I was never really a big fan. I was horrified by the footage of the infamous Big Brother battle between Goody and Shilpa Shetty and this simply reinforced my opinion that Jade was a misplaced role model, giving credence to the children who tell their careers advisers that when they grow up they 'want to be famous'.
When I heard of her cancer diagnosis it shocked and upset me. As a breast cancer patient with young children, I instinctively knew what Jade was going through. Her fears for her children, the sudden awareness of her own mortality and anger at the injustice of it all.
There is no denying that she was inexcusably robbed of her childhood, let down by her parents, family, education and the state. I remember reading in a magazine, a 'top tip' by Jade, which advised women to keep teaspoons in the fridge so that if you have been crying and your eyes are red and puffy, you can place the teaspoons on your eyelids to help soothe them. Immediately I felt great pity for Jade; I surmised that for someone to have such a tactic, she must have cried frequently and was always prepared for the next bout of tears.
And cry again she did, on television for everyone to see, as she was given some of the most devastating news a young mother can be given. I clearly remember the day of my diagnosis, I see it almost as though it too was on a television screen. I can visualise the room, with my Consultant, clinical staff and a MacMillan Nurse; my husband and I sat waiting for the hammer-blow. No matter how much you expect it or – as in my case – are in denial about it, that is what it is. It was wrong that Jade was given this news in the most heartless and cruel way, on the telephone with no support and no one to hand her a tissue or offer a comforting hand. Revenge in the highest, Shilpa had been upset by Jade in the UK 'Big Brother' house and now, Jade had been reduced to a wreck in the Indian 'Big Boss' house, in the most dramatic way possible.
Jade was a force in the media, she milked her fifteen-minutes and stretched it into years of fame, on the basis of being a gobby girl from a rough part of South London. She told her story throughout her illness, the only way she knew how, through the television camera and celebrity magazines. She was no intellect, probably wouldn't have been able to write the diary of a terminal prognosis as John Diamond and Ruth Picardie had done so eloquently, but then, Jade's core fans would probably not have read such things. She knew who she was, where she was and what she was famous for, the only way for Jade to tell her story was on television, that is where we met her, loved or loathed her and watched as she thoroughly enjoyed every minute of her fame.
Many of us underestimated Jade, when asked if she was going to sue because of the delay in correctly diagnosing her cancer, she replied that she didn't think people should sue the NHS. A stand that I respected her for, she showed that she wouldn't do anything for money. Ghost-written autobiographies, perfume and fly-on-the-wall documentaries are positively respectable compared with what some reality TV 'stars' do in the name of 'celebrity' and at least Jade was always fully dressed when she fell out of a nightclub!
I did not know Jade, but I and many other parents I have spoken with or read comments from on Internet discussion boards have a very basic commonality with Jade that allows us to feel much empathy for her. As parents, we cannot comprehend the idea of leaving our children while they are young and still need us. For Jade to have to do that, aged 27 and still so young herself is tragic.
I read with interest her ideas for how to explain her diagnosis and prognosis to her boys, I didn't agree with what she chose to tell them but I understand that it is an incredibly personal and difficult thing to do. How do you tell your children that when you didn't look or feel ill, you actually were ill, and now, the medicine that you are being given to help fight the illness is actually making you look and feel very ill indeed? It is hard enough for an adult to comprehend the disregard cancer has for everything one holds precious, without trying to explain that to a child.
For those of us who have received a cancer diagnosis Jade has brought our fears back to the fore. We have had our surgery, the horror of chemotherapy and seen our children, watching us suffer the indignity of it all and not understanding why Mummy is so ill and has no hair. We have endured the devastation that cancer wreaks on every aspect of our lives, how it changes you, your relationships, your career, your family and your life forever more. But we are the lucky ones.
We were not claimed by cancer, we live on. Jade's legacy is not her 'kebab', the 'BB race row' or anything she did in the name of fame. Jade's legacy is simply this: there are women today who will live to see their children grow because Jade did not. Cervical screening rates are up and some young women are going for the first time for a smear test; lives will be saved.
Jade achieved something no one ever expected of her, something respectable and something for which many will be thankful. That is her legacy.
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