Jackquann Button is 14 years old. He spells his name J-A-C-K-Q-U-A-double-N. He lives with his grandfather at Upper Camp in Alice Springs.

He has been in detention. In Alice Springs, where the youth detention centre reopened. He describes the routine:

"At six o'clock you get locked down. You wait till tomorrow."

What do you do during the day? "Play basketball." What is detention like? "Boring."

Where would he rather be?

"Home."

Why?

"Detention. That's not my home."

Kristy Bloomfield, Oonchiumpa co-founder and traditional owner, knows Jackquann's story from the inside:

"I think the challenges that led into that — being naughty or getting into trouble — was around peer pressure, and being part of the gang, showing that he's tough. What led him out to being where he is now and off Operation Luna, not sighted uptown, is that experience in Don Dale, away from family, away from country, but also that he was restricted from visiting anybody and had to be isolated from everybody."

Jackquann has been through Don Dale. He has created a rap about not wanting to be caught up in the system. He wants a normal life.

"These are little things that the public don't hear about, and we wanna be able to share that with the public to be able to listen to their little voices."

— Kristy Bloomfield

Asked what would stop him getting in trouble, Jackquann's answer was not about punishment or surveillance. It was about responsibility:

"Look after my family."

He is going to court. He feels good about it. "They gotta drop my charges." Asked what he would tell the people who lock kids up, he said one word: "Stop."

For judges, this is what the system looks like from the other side. A 14-year-old who wants to go home, look after his family, and stop being locked up. The question is whether the system can hear that.