Fabien and Ginger
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 thought I might have a part-time job by now like other kids. I am very hurt about everything and that I can’t do what I wanted to when I grew up. I feel that it was taken off me.’
Fabien is in his teens. He was diagnosed with autism and anxiety in prep.
Ginger, his mum, told the Royal Commission his school ‘had no idea what autism really was or how it affected a child living with it’.
‘There would be times when I used to be called early in the day to come and collect [Fabien] because the teachers would not be able to handle him.’
Ginger refused to do this after a while as it ‘was becoming a learnt behaviour’.
‘He knew if he played up he would be able to come home early. He needed to stay.’
In primary school, at Ginger’s insistence, the school eventually agreed to provide Fabien with teacher aide support for part of the week. But the aide was ‘taking off’, filling in for other teachers, and had ‘no idea about kids with disability’.
In year 8, Fabien was coming home with lots of bruising. Ginger knew he was being bullied, but the school said it was not their ‘problem’.
‘The school did have a no-bullying policy but just didn’t seem to do much when it came to us.’
When Fabien returned to school after a break, there were ‘more incidents with the bullies’.
‘They were always being rude to him prior to school starting, calling him names like retard.’
The principal ignored Ginger’s emails as the bullying got worse.
‘One boy said he would kill him if came to school,’ Ginger said. The same boy stabbed Fabien with ‘a very sharp pen’ and punched him ‘multiple times’.
It wasn’t just the students.
One teacher would make fun of Fabien’s stutter in front of the class.
‘He mimicked how he was speaking to him when asked a question. The teacher made the whole class laugh … to the point [Fabien] left the classroom crying.’
Ginger said the principal ‘was aware of everything’ that was going on. Ginger wanted the school to take disciplinary action against the teacher, but nothing happened. It ‘seemed to be just dropped’.
Fabien was so ‘physically and emotionally hurt by bullies and teachers’, he was ‘too scared to go to school’. He was upset every morning and ‘blamed’ Ginger for taking him there.
‘He felt if I kept him home he would not get bullied. He did not feel safe. He even said to his therapist that he would rather kill himself rather than go back to that school.’
Fabien did attempt suicide. He was prescribed antidepressants.
Ginger said that after further incidents of bullying and inappropriate teacher behaviour, the school effectively forced Fabien out.
‘We were a liability they had to get rid of. It has really damaged my son.’
Fabien told the Royal Commission he doesn’t want this ‘to happen to any person with autism at any school’. He and Ginger feel the ‘educational neglect’ has diminished his chances of getting into uni.
‘When I graduate this year, [at least] I know that I did my best to earn my certificate,’ Fabien said.
He is thinking of going to TAFE instead.
‘He was robbed of the education that he should have been given to be able to live his dream of going to university,’ said Ginger.
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.