Jory and Hagar
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.
Jory is in primary school. He is autistic and non-verbal and communicates with a computer tablet.
‘With COVID his anxiety levels went through the roof and it's come out in his behaviour,’ his mum Hagar told the Royal Commission. ‘His behaviour has turned, I guess, violent … and most of it's directed at me for whatever reason.’
One day when Jory was damaging furniture and hurting himself, Hagar called the police to help her control him. They handcuffed him.
‘I don't think it helped and actually one of the support workers even said to the guy who'd been struggling with [Jory], "Hey mate, he's a child … Like why are you handcuffing him?"’
Hagar had Jory admitted to a hospital psychiatric unit.
‘[The staff] decided that he doesn't understand what's going on. I said to them, “No, he understands, [but] he needs a communication partner.”’
Jory’s communication partner uses a communication technique that psychiatric unit staff consider unscientific and they wouldn’t let that person come in to help him.
‘They feel that is controversial, the facilitated communication. But that's my choice and that's my son's choice … The school that he goes to has accepted it very well.’
The hospital discharged Jory.
‘[The hospital] told me that they can't help and not to bring him again. They also called child protection on us.’
Hagar said the hospital also wrote to the NDIA accusing Jory’s communication partner of being ‘not just ineffective, but dangerous’.
‘I just feel like I'm in an abusive relationship … I think [the NDIA is] also looking at options of how they don't need to fund people. So I think that the report from the [hospital] suited their narrative that, you know, here's something we don't have to fund.’
The NDIA told Hagar that if she continued to use the communication technique they’d stop her managing Jory’s funding.
‘That's terrible, like you've got some supports in place that he's very close to and feels very comfortable with, and [taking some away] would actually destroy him.’
She said the NDIA wasn’t letting her and Jory ‘choose what works’.
‘Some people find a therapy dog really helpful. Well, [Jory] doesn't. For [Jory] I wouldn't even think of it. He doesn't particularly like dogs. So you can't group everybody [together].’
When Jory’s behaviour deteriorated during COVID-19, Hagar asked the NDIA for more support.
‘[They’re] telling me that I should be looking after him. I feel like saying, "If you came I would like you to look after him. He doesn't let me anywhere near him at the moment. That's why I've got people to help me."’
The NDIA kept asking her for reports ‘over and over again’ from specialists such as Jory’s psychologist, who were ‘sick of it’.
‘I felt like I had to justify every decision I made … I'm his parent, this is my role, I need to look after him and … I need to just be given credit rather than be demonised as someone that is causing trouble.’
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.