Kalel and Jaliya

Kalel is autistic and has obsessive-compulsive and attention deficit hyperactivity disorders. His family immigrated to Australia when he was a young child, and he is now in his early years of high school. He has attended five or six schools in Australia, as the family has relocated often for his father’s work.

Kalel’s mother Jaliyah said there have been good experiences and bad.

At Kalel’s first school, the principal was welcoming and Kalel had a school learning support officer (SLSO). But on her visits to the school Jaliyah noticed that Kalel was usually on his own. ­

Jaliyah told the Royal Commission that coming from another culture, she did not quite know what to expect from Australian schools.

‘I never know any – anything is standard or education law or whatever, I did not have any idea. Maybe at that time, my approach was not very professional, mostly emotional.’

Jaliyah took the advice of an allied health professional who was working with Kalel, and employed a disability advocate for him.

‘Advocate try to get some support in the classroom and in the playground so my son can participate in the academic stuff,’ she explained.

This helped, and with the additional resources Kalel managed well.

When the family moved interstate, the principal at their local school would not let Kalel attend for the full day because of his disability, despite his good academic record. This was difficult for Jaliyah, who needed to get a job.  

‘I ask for a meeting, so the school principal, assistant principal, me, my husband – we all join. The principal … told [us] that having your son in the classroom without education assistant is not fair for other children.’

Jaliyah contacted a local disability advocate, who told her to remind the principal it was Kalel’s right to attend school full-time. The advocate then emailed the school as well.

‘She said “You are not abiding the Australian law and we will help the family to lodge complaint against Department of Education,”’ Jaliyah recalled.

This threat was effective. The school organised an SLSO and Kalel was then able to go to school full-time.

There continued to be issues, however. The school communicated poorly with Jaliyah and didn’t make simple adjustments that would have helped Kalel, such as writing his tasks down on a sheet of paper rather than making him read them off the board.

Kalel began self-harming.

The disability advocate made a formal complaint about the school on the family’s behalf.

When Jaliyah’s husband got a new job and the family prepared to move interstate again, the school filed a complaint about them with child protection services.

The complaint came as a shock, and Jaliyah’s husband was ‘very very angry, sad, frustrated’. It was assessed by the agency and quickly dismissed as a misunderstanding of something Kalel had said.

The disability advocate told Jaliyah that it was a ‘tactic’ on the part of the school – ‘Like, every time the school get complaint by parent, parents are victimised by this.’

At Kalel’s next school, things went well.

‘Most of the kids were really kind to him. Class teacher was very good to him and as my son was happy, we were not worried about his academic [progress],’ said Jaliyah.

The school encouraged Kalel to enter an extracurricular competition, which he won.

‘He still cherishes memory and he was – he was valued and he did really well.’

Kalel is now entering puberty and new issues are emerging to do with appropriate behaviours at school. As Jaliyah tries to ensure Kalel’s needs at school are met, she finds being a migrant whose first language isn’t English makes everything harder.

‘I can still, like, when I go and try to talk to the meeting …  I – I – I shut down very easily. They shut down me very – I could not – I cannot finish my talking,’ she said. ‘I feel like it was racism lots of times.’