Leith and Glynis
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.
Leith, in his 30s, is autistic and has intellectual disability.
‘He had quite complex and challenging behaviour issues [as a child],’ his mum Glynis told the Royal Commission. ‘Lots of screaming, spitting and no language et cetera. So quite, you know, a challenging thing to organise.’
Glynis’s family didn’t believe Leith was autistic.
‘As a young mother I think the hardest thing was that … they were not supportive of me and didn’t actually believe that my son had a disability and weren’t willing to help because they found him too hard.’
A mainstream primary school expelled Leith because of his behaviour.
‘Other parents watched the principal dragging him physically down the stairs and telling him what a horrible child he was. All the while my child was screaming.’
The other parents told Glynis they didn’t want Leith at the school.
‘They felt that he was disrupting their child’s educational experience. So I would often be abused by other parents and asked why don’t I take him somewhere else.’
Glynis said despite Leith’s intellectual disability he was ‘quite intelligent’ and was learning at the school with the help of speech therapy. But because the principal didn’t want him there, the education department suggested a special school, which Glynis feared ‘was not going to meet his needs’.
‘But he ends up there anyway … I worked really hard to get him into services, to get him into therapy. I did everything I could because I wanted him to have the best life.’
Glynis had more children and Leith’s behaviour deteriorated. He only slept a couple of hours a night and one time tried to hide one of the babies.
‘I’m sitting at three o’clock in the morning with a baby in each arm and trying to stop, you know, control his behaviours and manage everything.’
Exhausted and with no family support, Glynis asked the child protection department for help.
‘The only way I could get a foster care arrangement, which I was hoping for two to three months, was to … effectively sign a form to say that I was abandoning my child.’
Leith’s behaviour improved with his foster family, where he was better supported.
‘I think it was the environment. Smaller community, less going on. The school was accepting of him. And [Leith] ultimately ended up staying with those foster parents.’
‘The big issue there for me was that if I had been provided with support I could have kept him with me … [What] has affected me personally and obviously [Leith] quite deeply, is that I had to officially abandon my child to get support. And it’s something I’ll never recover from.’
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.