Jace and Kas
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.
Jace, early 20s, is autistic and has attention deficit hyperactivity disorder and an intellectual disability.
Three years ago he was living by himself in supported independent living (SIL) accommodation managed by a disability service provider.
Jace would often get erections. Staff ‘scorned him’ and referred him to Kas, an occupational therapist specialising in sexual health.
The first thing Jace told Kas was that he was unhappy. He said, ‘I want to get rid of [the service provider].’
Kas told the Royal Commission Jace was on a number of antipsychotic drugs. Despite this, she found Jace engaging and personable. He participated well in sessions with her, but she noticed his level of alertness diminishing as the day wore on because of the antipsychotics. Jace has no history of psychosis and Kas believes his GP was overmedicating him as a form of ‘badly managed chemical restraint’.
Kas said that before she could address Jace’s sexual health, the provider needed to address the neglect. Jace was ‘baby sat’ and didn’t ‘live a meaningful life’. No-one was addressing his continence issues. He had no activity programs.
Kas was shocked when she saw his apartment. ‘He didn’t have a bed that fit him, he didn’t have air-conditioning … there was no furniture.’ He didn’t have any money yet there was $11,000 ‘building up in a bank somewhere’.
‘[Jace] was exploited and seen as a way to get money … he had no therapists despite the sizeable plan.’
Boredom is a trigger for Jace, and when he’s bored he has outbursts. He can read and write but needs reading glasses, yet the provider didn’t bother taking him to an optometrist. They also refused to allow him to use a mobile phone or tablet. During lockdown, Jace didn’t even have a television to watch.
Support staff ignored Jace and spent most of their shifts on their mobile phones. One staff member posted an online dating profile for Jace with ‘disgusting’ comments about what he’d like to do to women. Kas knew Jace was ‘respectful to women’ and wouldn’t have been involved with this.
With Jace’s consent and after talking to some of the support workers, Kas arranged for him to see a psychiatrist.
Kas asked Jace for his consent to speak to the NDIS Quality and Safeguards Commission on his behalf. Jace told her he wanted to make a complaint too. He wrote ‘people are mean to me’ and ‘people steal my things’.
Kas drafted both complaints and at the same time spoke to the provider’s CEO and care coordinator about their ‘passive neglect’.
Almost immediately a guardian was appointed to act for Jace. The guardian banned Kas from treating Jace and refused to allow her to hand over to a new occupational therapist.
The provider has since moved Jace, and Kas is unsure where he is. ‘[He is] missing … because he is worth money,’ she said. His NDIS package went from $300,000 to $550,000 and is slated to become more than $1,000,000. Kas believes if the provider developed Jace’s capacity he wouldn’t need such a large package with so many support staff and could live in shared accommodation.
Kas believes Jace is ‘a cash cow for a company that is expert at profiting within the disability sector’. The provider ‘has a long history of poor management, burning out its workers and unsafe practices’, but is ‘well connected to the NDIA, the offices of administration and guardianship and alternative SIL companies’.
‘Working together they are successfully draining the financial resources of the scheme and bringing misery both to people with disabilities in their care, and the support workers they employ.’
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.