Jackie Hagan’s death has left the poetry community in Manchester and further, bereft of the most amazing person. The disease she had lived with, which caused the loss of two limbs, finally claimed her. Jacks was only in her early forties but the impact created by their presence was truly amazing. Jacks was so bright in the way they dressed, lived, smiled and related to people. Their poems were long and loose, filled with wry insights and observation that evoked both laughter and tears. I loved the accent, having a close relationship with Liverpool myself but not from there, I identified. Jacks was from Skem (‘our imaginary town’), a Liverpool overspill town.
I met Jacks a short while into her performance career, and was impressed by their energy and uniqueness. There was no-one else writing or performing anything like that. I don’t think Jacks noticed me: it was at a book launch at the Green Room in Manchester with so many readers. I heard them perform a few times after that, but missed lots of other chances. However, my dear friends Steve Waling and John Calvert were going to Magical Animals, and said they would look after me. I wanted to read but was very nervous about how my work would go down, because I am not a ‘performance poet’. (By which I mean I don’t know my poems by heart and they are not scripts) However Jacks gave me a ton of encouragement and a lovely introduction, and so I read my two poems, and later, Jacks sent me two photos I was in. I had a wonderful time, despite my nerves. Jacks made everywhere a safe space where anyone could find a place.
I never knew Jacks very well, but watched from afar and admired their attitude to life, which could be summed up by the phrase ‘get stuck in’. Jacks was incredibly intelligent, and her poems are all about the human experience. Jacks loved the brokenness in people and I wish I’d known someone like them when I was the weird kid at school. Jacks always made people feel they were OK.
The last time I saw her in the flesh was at Postbox Poets, a night organised by Sarah Dixon. I think I had a guest slot, but can’t be sure. I was there with Steve and John, my husband Dave had driven me there, so maybe I did have a slot. Anyway, Jacks took a slightly blurry photo of the three of us, me with John and Steve either side of me and said they loved us and were we not great mates. I still love that photo. It was so perceptive of Jacks to notice our quiet bond.
I stayed in touch with Jacks on Facebook, lost in admiration by the way they handled things through hospital procedures. At no time was Jacks’ sense of self lost, there was so self-pity. Jacks used the time to get to know people on the ward, and make their lives a little bit shinier. The humanity Jacks demonstrated towards them was impressive. I modelled by own attitude when I was in hospital with my fracture, on Jacks’. I learned loads from Jackie Hagan and I think there will be many others who feel the same. Those who were close friends were very fortunate but now are most bereft, and I think of her mum and brother and her lovely partner Miles.
I wrote a poem for Jacks, after Jacks, and sent it to Miles to be written on her coffin, decorated by friends. It’s not much but I’ve tried to show what I learned from Jacks, and how knowing them the little I did made my life more special.
For Jackie Hagan
Who showed it was ok to be working class
even after you’d lost your accent, like me
it was more than OK to be dressed out of jumble sales
OK for a page poet to read at Magical Animals –
with an intro just as good as all her mates had
OK to be scared
OK to be broken, Jacks understood brokenness
OK to rebel and act daft and tell things like they are
OK to be however you are, love who you love
OK to be disabled, you can still rock up
with glitter on your disability, be proud of survival
OK to be overweight or too skinny
OK to dye your hair mad colours, make a rainbow
OK to be nosy, dead interested in everyone’s life
even if they are old and grumbly or losing their mind
OK to be human in fact. OK to laugh and dick around
and cry if you need to, OK to swear.
All that is good for you, get it out, express yourself.
Goodbye bright star, glitter pixie
who showed us how to live and how to die.
In a world without Jackie, we all have to be more Jackie.
Angela Topping
July 2024
Angela Topping 