Filling His Shoes

Jackson Lindsay Clarke. Just a name to you, but to us, he was so much more a friend, a

leader, a light in our community. Jacko wasn’t just our 2024 school captain - he was the guy who could make everyone laugh, even on the toughest of days. If you knew Jackson, you knew he had this infectious energy that could fill a whole room. 

When I heard the news about his car accident, it didn’t feel real. It still doesn’t, in some ways. Because someone like Jackson, well you can't imagine him not being around. He was meant to be there. In assembly, playing basketball, singing Sweet Caroline. 

But in an instant, he was gone. 

But that’s the thing about loss: it doesn't ask for permission. It just arrives, and everything after it looks different.  

6 months after Jackson had passed, I was named school captain. 

It was an honour. But it didn’t feel like a celebration. And for the first few weeks, I felt like I was pretending. Like I was wearing someone else’s jacket and trying my very best to make it fit. Every speech I gave, every meeting I led, I kept asking myself, “What would he have done?” 

It changed to “What would I do?” Because I realized something. 

I wasn’t asked to be him. I was asked to honor him. To carry what he stood for  - not copy it. To lead in my own way, with my own voice. Some roles aren’t passed on, they’re carried forward. 

Grief doesn’t just come and go. It lingers and for us? It showed up in the silence at morning tea. In the questions younger students still ask.  

Jackson’s absence was felt everywhere but so was his impact. 

There’s a quote I came across recently which is as follows, “You can’t fill someone’s shoes, but you can walk in their spirit.” 

What we are doing now is walking forward in the spirit of someone who showed us what it means to care deeply, to lead with kindness, and to live with purpose. We may never be able to fill their shoes, but we can carry their values, their laughter, and their love with us. In our actions, in our words, and in the way we support each other, their spirit lives on.  

So here’s to Jackson. 

And here’s to all of us  - trying, stumbling, growing. 

Filling shoes we never expected to wear, but continuing shuffling onwards. 

Ashah Hillier