‘Are you ready?’ Michael asked. I took a deep and slow breath, trying to hide my fear.

I started with an image and explanation of Patty Mills’s Mabo Day shoes, hoping it was going to be the key image that gained my classmates’ attention. And I could see immediately that it was working, which helped me relax.

When I got into the hard stuff – the politics, explaining Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander ownership of land, the things Mabo fought for, the things now recognised in Australian law – I got a bit flustered, thinking about my classmates’ connection to Country, some of their parents’ ownership of vineyards, their peoples’ fight to make Australia home. And then I explained my vision of a shared future where we understand and respect each other, where we give each other the space to live our lives.

And as I played footage of Patty Mills playing for Australia in the Olympic Games and shooting the winning points in the dying seconds, out of the blue, unplanned, maybe prompted by the Midnight Oil song we were singing in morning circle, I quoted lyrics from another Midnight Oil song about Aboriginal connection to Country and how it can’t be broken.

Then I exhaled.

My classmates applauded. Matilda stood from her seat and I thought she was going to give me a serve and I’d be back in the principal’s office any minute. When everyone settled down, she said, ‘Thank you for your presentation, it was really awesome. And again, I’m sorry about the other day.’

I could’ve hugged her, but instead I just said thank you and took my seat, feeling relieved and proud of myself. Where the hell did I pull those Midnight Oil lyrics from?

Jamie gave me a thumbs up, which was really nice. I was glad that he was seeing me do something good for once, rather than being drunk, spewing or in hospital.

When we walked out of class at recess, Matilda held out a basketball to me and she said, ‘Wanna play?’ I nodded and she gently flicked the basketball my way. I started dribbling and Matilda said, ‘Congratulations again on your presentation, it really was awesome.’

‘Yeah, it was cool,’ Caroline added.

‘I’m learning stuff,’ Matilda said. I thought about how Dad was always telling me that it wasn’t really people’s fault that they were racist, they’d just grown up being taught the wrong information, and that talking and education was the key to better understanding.

‘I won’t ever push you or pull your hair again,’ I told Matilda, ‘and if you do something to upset me, I’m going to tell you.’

‘That’s fine,’ she said.

And then we ran onto the basketball court and I made a lay-up. It felt good to be back on the court again with my new friends, running around, and I even scored a few points before the bell rang.