The Princess and the Average Person’s Legacy
By Jas Calcitas
Rarely do my Mum and I sit down to watch something on Netflix together, unless it’s a PG movie. But, when I put on ‘Diana: In Her Own Words’, a new documentary in which Diana narrates her own story, we sat in total silence for two lengthy hours. Everyone and their aunties were in awe with Diana, the people’s princess. She, herself, didn’t understand why she received so much attention. She wasn’t good enough, she thought. Humanitarian, philanthropist and icon to the whole world, she was still not immune to insecurity. When Diana fatefully died in a Paris car crash, I have been told that it felt like the world stopped. After having consumed the entirety of The Crown: Season Four I felt like I was in the 80s, and I was witnessing Diana whilst she was alive. I scoured through the internet to watch interviews of her, find pictures of her, to bring life to her again. So, when in the documentary, we watched her funeral procession, I sat in a stream of tears. She had died again, in a way, and this time it really hurt. She appeared in my dreams, too. I couldn’t look at William and Harry on the news in the same way. It was only then that I truly recognised her legacy.
Legacy. It stems from the Latin for ‘delegated person’. Who decides if you should be delegated, and how high must you be delegated? Would Diana have been so celebrated had she not been in the single most public position in England? Diana knew from the moment she was married into the Royal Family that nothing in the world would be treasured like her womb would be. Not even herself. Through The Crown and her documentary I learned that Diana struggled inexplicably from bulimia, which started just after her engagement. She was so young, and whilst she wasn’t entirely ‘ordinary’, being the daughter of an Earl, she was still as close to normal as the public as they could have imagined. A kindergarten teaching assistant, cleaner to her sister, lover of parties. Royal decorum didn’t suit her, and she wasn’t afraid to break the boundaries and make a name for herself. She stood up for her family; royals rarely took their children to royal visits, but Diana had to take her young son, William, with her, no matter who thought it may be a nuisance. The monarchy has been long judged for their traditional ways with anti-monarchists not being alien in England and around the world. So, when we found Diana, who was the epitome of relatability, it’s no wonder we all latched on.
I’m sure we all want to have a legacy, even if it’s not necessarily to have our faces plastered over tea towels and plaques. Sometimes I wonder, what if nobody remembers me when I die? I’ll be a forgotten face, no matter what I do. But then I realised, we don’t need a massive legacy. Does it matter more that we take over the world or make little differences in our day to day lives? If I’m honest, I couldn’t imagine the strength and effort it must take to be blown up into an icon so quickly and to such a great extent. I can barely deal with being perceived by strangers I see on the train, and here I am talking about legacy. Don’t be so silly. I wonder if Diana ever thought this. But she couldn’t possibly have been thinking about how she would look during all of this. It’s like, you know you’re being watched, but that doesn’t matter as much as using your platform for good. Not all of us are going to have a massive platform, so, I think it is more important to be like Diana in your own lives. Benevolence, charity, kindness: these are the little things we can do to produce a ‘legacy’. It is formulated through what we give to others, and not what we want for ourselves. Legacy is a selfless thing.
My cousin told me that she slipped a note to her Starbucks server saying thank you for everything they do. They were elated. I can imagine the relief and joy they must have felt, all whilst having to prepare for the next person who might not show the same appreciation. I’m sure they’ll think about her for a while. I’ve started to make sure I reach out to a different friend or family member at least once a day, just to make sure they are okay. Or, I hear them talking about something they have been craving, or had their eye on, and I’ll surprise them with it. My Mum never refuses a beggar change, because she thinks, what difference will my spare change make me.
I’m sure Diana would be in complete wonderment if she knew how much her good deeds inspired others. If I can make even one person’s day a little better, and they remember me for that, but then are inspired by me for that, that’s all that’s important. Nothing else.