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Callum, Saul and Allanah

Content Warning: These stories are about violence, abuse, neglect and exploitation and may include references to suicide or self-harming behaviours. They may contain graphic descriptions and strong language and may be distressing. Some narratives may be about First Nations people who have passed away. If you need support, please see Contact & support.

‘We are trying to make disabled people look like able people. By being inclusive, we are ignoring what they really need.’

Allanah is in her 40s and is the mother of two boys with intellectual and physical disability. Callum, the eldest, has level 3 autism and a genetic disorder that effects his speech and mobility.

‘He could not gain access to a special school,’ Allanah told the Royal Commission, because his cognitive impairment fell short by one point.

‘To get into a special school is so hard and our education system is not supporting children who are disabled. It is killing them. Stuffing kids into mainstream school is not inclusion. That excludes my son from learning. He can't learn in that environment. He doesn't actually want to.’

Students physically and verbally abused Callum from preschool to year 3. Allanah felt she was sending him into the ‘lion's den’ each day knowing he would be ‘kicked, pushed and punched’.

‘He was bullied and beaten until he tried to kill himself when he was eight years old.’

Allanah felt the mainstream schools ‘wanted to blame him for what was happening to him’.

‘They felt that he needed to change his behaviour so that other children wouldn't bully him. But he has an intellectual disability. He was never supported. For five years, every single day until I pulled him out and we were forced to homeschool. And I am not Robinson Crusoe you know.’

Allanah works as an NDIS support coordinator and says she has witnessed many children with disability ‘in the same boat’.

‘If you have an intellectual impairment, it is not set up for us at all. That leads to our children being abused at school and they are being neglected by our schools every day.’

Meanwhile Callum’s younger brother, Saul, has been attending special schools. He has high support needs, which Allanah says the schools have neglected.

‘They weren't changing his incontinence aids, they were not doing his tube feeds, he was coming home half naked.’

Allanah said that when she wanted to move Saul ‘from one special school to another’ to get the right care, the education department ‘outright threatened’ her. She had to sign a statutory declaration saying she would not ask for extra supports, otherwise they would not process his enrolment.

‘So at the [new] special school he wasn't provided with a chair to be fed in, so he had to roll around on the floor. He had major medical emergencies and I wasn't contacted.’

Saul missed out on some of his schooling because the special schools didn’t have the staff for high-needs students. Outside school hours care was non-existent, Allanah said.

‘We don't have before-school care, we don't have after-school care. So you are stuck. When I am sick and I can't get up, [Saul] doesn't get fed.’

Allanah is advocating for more funding for informal support networks around children with disability.

‘Having paid workers as the only option to support our kids is not the answer. The standard line we get is parental responsibility. We are screaming for help and are made to feel that we are just being lazy and shirking our responsibility. And that is not the case … It is a community responsibility.’

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Disclaimer: This is the story of a person who shared their personal experience with the Royal Commission into Violence, Abuse, Neglect and Exploitation of People with Disability through a submission or private session. The names in this story are pseudonyms. The person who shared this experience was not a witness and their account is not evidence. They did not take an oath or affirmation before providing the story. Nothing in this story constitutes a finding of the Royal Commission. Any views expressed are those of the person who shared their experience, not of the Royal Commission.