Cornelia and Nance
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.
Cornelia is autistic and in high school.
‘All … our children have specific learning disabilities and I have imputed dyslexia as well,’ Cornelia’s mum Nance told the Royal Commission. ‘Her older siblings have actually all finished school now, all doing degrees and PhDs and masters. So we have quite a long-standing experience of the education system.’
Nance said Cornelia has a high IQ but still needs support at school, particularly for her dyslexia. Nance and her husband, both medical professionals, chose a primary school that promised to be supportive.
‘We tried to bring in additional supports through technology and use of software programs, but none of those seemed to be taken up by the school. They kept giving her activity books which were two or three years below her.’
Nance said Cornelia felt humiliated in front of her friends and began to self-harm. Nance consulted experts and offered to pay for assistive technology such as speech-to-text software, but would ‘just get brick wall after brick wall after brick wall until … [Cornelia] asked to finally leave the school’.
The next school also told Nance it would support Cornelia using assistive technology.
‘They did exactly what she'd had before. Give her written information, large amounts of it, expecting her to be able to read it. Then when she can't, assuming that that lack of being able to access written print seems to constantly be considered a reflection of her intellectual capacity.’
The school gave Cornelia books that had exercises beneath her ability, such as join the dots. Cornelia was embarrassed to attend the class and began to fall behind her peers. When Nance complained, the teachers became defensive.
‘We're now getting more and more antagonistic … so the teachers are then not emailing things.’
Instead of giving her access to assistive technology, the school decided Cornelia ‘didn’t need’ the same laptop that the other kids used.
‘There's like a whole philosophy that says it's okay if I just put a big neon sign over you that says you're different and you're not good enough, you don't fit.’
Cornelia’s high school also refused to make reasonable adjustments or allow her to use assistive technology.
Nance said the high school boasted about being inclusive, but segregated children with disability.
‘It came to the point where [Cornelia] was in year 7 doing hands-on-head Simon Says. And we said to her, “What were you doing that for?” She says, “Well because that's what they want us to do.” So she was embarrassed to be in that class.’
Nance said the school received tens of thousands of dollars to support Cornelia, but never explained what it spent that money on. Nance and her husband still struggle to negotiate with the school about reasonable adjustments for their daughter.
‘How do … parents [who] don't have literacy skills to be able to read all those documents [cope]? … We have several [degrees] … but even this has sent us both bonkers. Our family is sick of it. We're sick of it.’
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.