Cedar and Trista
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.
‘I do not want to see my boy fail. He sometimes sees prison as a life choice, because life is just too hard for him to negotiate.’
Cedar, early 20s, was born drug dependent,’ his foster mother Trista told the Royal Commission. He has attention deficit hyperactivity disorder, complex post-traumatic stress disorder and anxiety.
‘He cannot perform even simple mathematical tasks of addition and subtraction,’ she said. ‘He cannot remember key personal information such as his date of birth or phone number, and is unable to sign his full name. He cannot tell the time and has no real sense of time passing.’
Trista had also cared for Cedar’s father when he was a teenager and says children in the out-of-home care (OOHC) system don’t receive the interventions and support they need.
‘I believe that many young people raised in OOHC have significant cognitive and or mental health [issues] as a direct consequence of their birth parent’s alcohol and other drug use and generational trauma.’
Without support, Cedar struggled and his behaviours escalated. He would throw and smash things and sometimes threaten Trista. In his mid-teens, Cedar began to intimidate and frighten the other children in Trista’s care. She had no choice but to ask him to leave.
‘It was an incredibly difficult decision to make knowing full well that he was very immature and very vulnerable.’
The foster agency was unable to find alternative accommodation, so Cedar ‘couched surfed’ with ‘mates’ he met on the street.
Trista would meet up with him and bring him food.
The foster agency referred Cedar to an 18-month program for young people leaving care who needed support to develop independent living skills.
Trista said it was a challenge trying to get him to accept the offer before he turned 18 and became ineligible.
As part of the program, Cedar lived in a flat on his own. Support workers were meant to help him develop the skills he needed to live independently.
But after a short time, the provider reduced his support because in their opinion he didn’t have high support needs.
Trista raised her concerns several times.
‘Despite this and being provided with numerous assessment reports to the contrary, [the provider] never really understood the breadth of [Cedar]’s disability.’
Cedar never learned to prepare meals. He never used his oven – ‘when he moved his pots and pans were all pristine’. He never used the washing machine and never changed his sheets – Trista had to buy him new sheets.
‘His bathroom was foul and the kitchen sink full of detritus.’
Cedar would spend his entire weekly pay in two days. No-one supported him to pay bills and he left with unpaid debts.
At the end of the program he was evicted.
‘There was no exit strategy … [The provider] found him a shared room in a boarding house … I said this was unacceptable.’
Trista said there were some positives – the provider engaged the NDIS and helped him get a job and stay there for a year.
Following a recent arrest, Cedar was diagnosed with intellectual disability.
The lawyer negotiated with police and they dropped the charges.
Cedar is now living in boarding house accommodation. He feels safe but refuses to use the kitchen and returns to Trista’s house to shower.
‘[He] finds life very difficult most of the time. He is really struggling,’ Trista said. ‘I feel that I have been left unsupported trying to hold him and keep him safe while he hopefully continues to grow into the amazing young man he can be.’
‘I am particularly concerned for young people with disability compounded by trauma who have left, or are leaving, the care system across Australia. These young people and their carers need to be better assisted by the state and the commonwealth.’
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.