Lesley
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.
‘When I was able to show them that I could do the job [the supervisor] was like, “Wow. And you're Deaf and you did this job!”’
Lesley is in her 50s. Auslan is her first language, but in her public service job she’s expected to lip-read and write notes.
‘I've worked there for 30 years in the public service and in that time I've not been provided interpreters. Not for 30 years. No interpreters at all.’
As a result she missed meetings, work events and office conversations, and missed out on promotions.
‘My supervisors constantly refused and said, “You don’t need [an interpreter]. No, we’re not getting one.” They knew I had reasonable written English so they expected me just to write notes … If I didn’t understand something I would ask someone to write it down for me. And they would write these very longwinded, complicated notes.’
Lesley said she was ‘blocked’ from getting a promotion despite often being asked to work at higher levels than she was paid.
‘When I was looking to apply for a promotion … the job selection criteria that happens within government jobs was so very difficult to manage. There was no other option except to write written English to all of the responses.’
She would have preferred to apply through an interpreter using Auslan.
‘Many Deaf people who work for the public service have told me the same thing. It’s way too hard to make an application and there’s no flexibility to suit access needs.’
Lesley’s husband is also Deaf. He works in the private sector where he’s been using an interpreter for years, funded by the government’s Employment Assistance Fund (EAF). Lesley said she told human resources that the department wouldn’t have to pay for the interpreter if they accessed one through EAF, but they still said no.
Lesley said she’s lobbied for many years to be promoted and develop her career, but has come to ‘realise it’s just a waste of time’.
‘The public service doesn’t really have the opportunity for people with disability to progress. It seems to be the same old thing regularly.’
Recently, when her department was being restructured, Lesley was given an interpreter for the first time so she could understand what was being said at a meeting.
‘I was happy to leave my old [job] and move onto the new department. So I did have interpreters for that.’
Lesley was late on her first day at her new job.
‘I was on a train and … the train stopped. And I said to someone, “What’s happening? Why has the train stopped?” And one passenger said, “Well there’s floodwaters on the track. We can’t get through.” But then I realised I’d been missing all of the audio announcements. I had no idea what was going on. I got no alerts on my phone.’
Lesley struggled to find alternative transport and had to wait at the station for the tracks to reopen.
‘Again, you know, there was nothing set up for Deaf people. There was no visual alerts. There’s nothing, no [messages] on my phone. And I worry about that. That’s a really dangerous position to be in.’
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.