Giovanni and Martina
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.
Giovanni is in year 6. He and his mother, Martina, are both autistic.
‘I am an exhausted parent, who has tried to advocate and fight for the right of my child to an inclusive and abuse-free education within the state school system,’ Martina told the Royal Commission.
Giovanni attended a primary school in Queensland. Before he started, Martina met with the principal to agree on a transition plan. The school’s head of inclusive education was present too.
‘She was fantastic … I really felt that she understood the process and that we were setting him up for success, rather than setting him up to have a difficult time.’
Giovanni was excited and ‘looking forward to going to school’. But Martina said ‘it became apparent really quickly’ that the support wasn’t there, which was ‘one of the biggest shocks’.
Martina had informed the head teacher that she’d recently left Giovanni’s father, and that both she and her son were ‘victims of inexcusable domestic and family violence’.
The principal also knew Martina had applied for sole parental responsibility, but a court order meant the father was still involved. He was ‘in the teacher’s ear’ and ‘coaching her from the sidelines’, Martina said.
‘So, I think that anything that I had to say about [my son’s] disability and his needs was completely dismissed.’
Martina had ‘many interactions with the principal that were manipulative and abusive’ or ‘deliberately overt in their warnings’. The principal was ‘constantly monitoring’ her.
Once, Martina was working at the school crossing, watching as her mother dropped Giovanni off to class.
‘As usual, he didn't want to go and he didn't want my mum to leave. My mum was calming him, and about to leave.’
The principal ‘witnessed this distress’, but ‘without introduction’ steered Martina’s mother away and said, ‘Come on, nanna, it's time to leave.'
Often she would have staff ‘coax him away’ in a similar manner. Martina said the idea was always to separate Giovanni from his family, ‘regardless of the distress it caused’.
The school’s ‘failure to provide adequate supports’ impacted Giovanni’s ‘mental and physical health’. He had a ‘big meltdown and shutdown’, and for months had ‘debilitating’ agoraphobia.
‘He just didn't speak, didn't eat, didn't wanna sleep. He would have a panic attack if we were to try and leave home … He couldn't get to a psychologist because the agoraphobia was so bad.’
Giovanni is now doing distance education and things have improved.
‘We're back down to a sort of calmer space … It’s a very insular world we are living in. But I do make sure that he keeps contact with the school friends and we invite them over to sleep.’
Martina feels her son was ‘pushed out’ of mainstream education. She has left the door open for Giovanni to return to school, but for now, ‘he's terrified’.
‘I think since then there's been so much trauma, the idea of being in a room full of people … It's really intimidating.’
She said schools need to individualise the ‘vague framework’ of reasonable adjustments, ‘because every child obviously has a different need … a different disability’.
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.