Blaze and Aviana
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.
Blaze, 30, is autistic and has attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, a sleeping disorder and anxiety.
In his final years of high school he went to a small private school. His mother Aviana said the school ‘didn’t support disability’.
‘They didn’t understand it … I had to argue with great intensity, almost to the point of having to – close to threatening, not quite – to get accommodations. They didn't think that it warranted it, even though we had medical documentation galore.’
Blaze became suicidal, Aviana said, so she withdrew him from the school and sent him to another one that specifically catered to academic students with autism or mental health issues. Unlike the previous school, this one assessed students’ work with exams rather than assignments.
‘My son would only sit exams, he would not do assignments. The assignments made him so anxious because he couldn't get 100 per cent in the assignments, so he was just distraught.’
Blaze did well at the school and secured a place at university. Despite his academic abilities, Aviana said, it didn’t work out.
‘He couldn't cope with all the students and he couldn't cope with the pracs and all the assessments where you're with people all the time … He failed miserably.’
Blaze experienced severe migraines and became extremely ill.
Aviana was Blaze’s advocate, but the university’s disability officer wouldn’t recognise her role.
‘She said, "I don't want you ever coming again, he has to advocate for himself.”’
Aviana said the university has lots of policies about how people with disability should be treated.
‘But the thing is they don't implement them. They don't implement the Disability Discrimination Act or the Disability Standards for Education. When I'm told I was not to come again, that is against the actual Act … So, you know, there's policies and an Act, but there's also people who are employed by the government, or the university in this case, who didn't understand it.’
Unable to access the support he needed, Blaze withdrew from university.
Blaze enrolled at another university and that didn’t work out either. He then enrolled at TAFE, studying for a certificate. Although he failed that course, TAFE encouraged him to enrol in a diploma, with fees of $5000.
‘He failed every subject except one because he didn't hand the assignments in,’ Aviana told the Royal Commission.
‘So that's another complication that people with disabilities [face], getting into debt unnecessarily, and without their real understanding … They're just, you know, going, "I've got to do something."’
Too often, she said, they end up with debt and no qualification.
‘And then you continue the social disadvantage.’
She would like to see TAFE fees reduced. Subsidies exist for people on a Disability Support Pension, but not others with disability.
‘A lot of people who have got disabilities who haven't been classified or verified or diagnosed, whichever term you wish to use, are always at a significant disadvantage financially, socially, emotionally, family-wise because of these issues.’
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.